Skalitsa Village Farm - Planning Crops

Back to the Skalitsa farmhouse and jobs on the farm were waiting. There had to be potatoes sown (yes more). Not knowing what the weather was like we knew that generally it is always different from the Yambol weather even though just 35 kilometres away and we never usually know until we get there.

Arriving is always exciting here in the village, it had been six days since I was last here and the onions and garlic were making a move skywards already, the tuliups had began to open their head and the bird life was deafening around us. A stork had already taken up residence in a local telegraph pole and the whole scene was about to burst into life. Galia now having seena stork placed here Martenitsi on a lilac tree with the others we had put there from the past years.

Looking at the ground, there must have been a lot more snow yesturday than in Yambol, it was too heavy to work with even though the very warm sun had been drying it out for a couple of days. Therer wasn't much I could do as far as planting and digging was concerned to my attention fell on the black covering that had lay on an extended part of the land for a year.

The plan was for each year to cover a section of land each year with the black nylon material to stop the grow of lucerne and couch grass, then each spring uncover it and another section will be ready for putting crops effectively the area for growing will be bigger each year.

As I uncovered the strip on turned it over for another strip to become ready next year, the area left was perfect now for digging over and planting, but far to wet, it would have to wait another day or so to dry out. Now this method is my own English method and looked upon as very strange from neighbours who query what I do. All they would do to prepare fallow land is plough it up with either a tractor or a horse and plough prior to winter, and another session prior to April, the frost would have also done the business and it's ready for planting in spring. I suppose I should succum to this method which was used in my first year here, but it's about getting this system organised and only being here a couple of days a week makes that quite tricky. Besides which, my neighbours would have certainly taken over telling me that the whole area should be farmed - Not what I want, but as usual they always know what is best for me.

By the end of the weekend and a little drier all the working areas were prepared for the sweetworn, two melon varieties and pumpkins. All these could go without water for up to a week and less stress on my part. Also the strawberry patch was weeded, there was a 70% success rate of the newly planted seedlings from the autumn, not too bad. the runners that form later in the spring will fill in the gaps so no worries there. Again, they can survive a while without water in the summer as they have established quite deep root bases now and they will be under the shade of the vines leaves overhead that will form a canopy by the end of spring.

It is all about organising and choosing the right crops for the right growing environment. Hopefully the thought that has gone for the Skalitsa farm will make me sleep better in Yambol knowing that the crops have a good chance of survival this year with minimum maintenance.

Well Behaved Bulgarian Bees

Bulgarian bees are very different over here as I found out yesterday as the grape harvest was gathered form the garden.

It was that time of year when the grapes, after the weather and starlings have had their share, were to be gathered and turned into the wine and rakia that makes up one of the the most renown traditions of Bulgaria. It was quite a fear that came over me as the grapes were approached, this was based on my previous experiences of bees and wasps 2000 miles away. Many a brave soul would run from British bees and wasps, they always had an attitude over there and something that lay in the mind every time one was seen in Bulgaria.

The humming bees became quite deafening to the ear as the hanging grapes were to be tackled. It was clear that part of the harvest was currently being shared by another winged species of thieves. They initially piece the skin of the grape and make their way into the sweet grape juice within. After which they buzz back to their hives and deposit the sweet content which turns out in jars in the Yambol market a few weeks later. I should have a stake in this honey made from my grapes as a good 10% of the crop had been impeached and taken away for profit to be made on it by someone else.

So a fear of getting hut by these bees was a contention that I was forced to subject myself to. I could wait until dusk and the bees go back in their hives to sleep but then it gets dark very quickly and this job was to take a couple of hours that wasn't an option. It had to be done now, no time early in the morning either.

Gingerly the hand went into bunches of grapes with bees hiding their feast within individual grapes, the buzzing more intense as I mingled further into the crop. After a few disturbances I found that the bees would realize that there was something going on and just let themselves drop off and fly away. At no point did any bee become aggressive, even it I accidentally touched one when reaching up they would still not turn against me.

It got to the stage where a system of gently tapping the stem from which the grapes hung prior to cutting would in fact clear that area of bees. It was a warning that the party was over and their food supply was now at an end. If I could speak bee I would swear they were thanking me and and saying goodbye see you next year.

Two hours of grape harvesting in an atmosphere not quite reaching swarm status but quite close to it in stages and not once did any bee act aggressively, furthermore no stings inflicted. What a nice kind bunch of bees Bulgaria has and what a difference from the nasty aggressive nature I had grown up endured in the UK.

A funny thought to end with but now with the grape harvest in all I have for the first time in nearly 40 years having learned again about the birds and the bees, this time without embarrassment.