ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

For the record, I don't keep very good records

We've had plenty of major weather events this growing season and Michael Johnson has not recorded any of them -- until now.

rain gauge.JPG
The rain gauge at the Johnson homestead has seen plenty of action in 2024 after taking a break during the 2023 season.
Michael Johnson / Agweek

This morning as I write this column, Tuesday, July 30, 2024, we had our biggest hail storm of the season so far at just before 6 a.m.

The stones could be heard striking the gutters and windows with great force. For a homeowner with a vehicle sitting outside, it’s worrisome. To a gardener who has rows and rows of vegetables, flowers, apple trees and months of harvest yet to come, the storm sounded gut-wrenching.

ADVERTISEMENT

After about five minutes of pummeling, the sun provided enough light to see the nickel and dime sized hail that remained in the grass outside. A closer look at the crops showed that for the most part there was minimal damage. Whew — crisis averted. As a bonus, we had three-quarters of an inch of rain in the gauge. It was, for the first time this growing season, moisture that we’d really needed. After that, I quickly moved on with the day without making note of the occurrence (until I wrote this column).

hail.JPG
A hailstone remains in the grass following a severe thunderstorm that hit Otter Tail County on Tuesday, July 30, 2024, near Henning, Minnesota. Hail ranged in size from nickels to dimes.
Michael Johnson / Agweek

All through my childhood, my mother recorded any such weather events. Every time it rained, she’d jot down the total on a calendar by the phone on the wall. She’d record the first frost and make sure her mountains of pumpkins were doing well. She’d write down high and low temperatures on occasion, adding exclamation marks for emphasis. She’d use words like “Windy!” “Cold,” or “Lots of snow!!”

If anyone asked, she could quickly go back to her records and report on any interesting phenomenon that struck the farm. I assume she still does this.

I myself am a reporter who records people’s words and actions for much of my living, and yet, I keep basically no records of the day-to-day weather we experience at home. I do like to look at how much rain we’ve had and gauge my watering based on that last amount, but some excellent recordkeeping is something I really do want to strive for.

I don’t have to tell you why good recordkeeping matters, but I’m going to anyway. Like any recorded history, it helps us to learn from our mistakes. If I plant three varieties of tomato, it helps to know what performed well and what failed. If I plant the same seeds every year and they continuously fail, it’s fair to say, you can’t blame that on the weather. I know it's what I should do, I just don't. But I hope to change.

Recordkeeping can pay huge dividends into the future, as the hard work upfront can make life easier down the road. Those new to farming need to record everything, daily. If you’re 40 years in, you’ve figured a lot out, and instead of daily recordings, you can look back at why you are where you are today — and hopefully smile or laugh about all those crazy things you once tried.

I gained some inspiration on keeping a gardening journal from . In the article, they go far deeper into recording than I see myself doing, but I can see the rewards in going all in.

ADVERTISEMENT

Here’s a great example of how good intentions can fail without some simple recordkeeping. My wife and I harvested our garlic this week. There’s still curing and selling to do, but the harvest is really the indication of whether things worked out well or not. Some looks good. Some didn’t meet our expectations. My wife researched varieties that she felt would be best for our location and that she felt would sell well. We planted as directed. We mulched and cared for them leading up to winter. We had a plan to water, fertilize, weed and care for their needs to the end.

garlic 2024.JPG
Part of the garlic harvested in July 2024 at the Johnson garden.
Michael Johnson / Agweek

But when it came time to harvest on an 85-degree night, with mosquitoes bearing down on us from all sides and the humidity making matters worse, we plucked the garlic as quickly as we could. We made a few big piles and then piled them high on a wagon to put it under cover for the night. Aside from color of the bulbs, I cannot tell you which variety is which. I’ll never be able to tell you which did best and which ones I’d avoid planting in the future. I had no plan of how we were going to record and organize that garlic and so, to an extent, the garlic experiment was a bust.

Simple recordkeeping helps move the farm forward toward better growing.

Of course, the best recordkeeping in the world can’t stop drought conditions, flooding, hail and other disasters that are destined to keep coming. But if my mother’s growing abilities are any indication, recordkeeping and plenty of prayers sure do help.

Michael Johnson is the news editor for Agweek. He lives in rural Deer Creek, Minn., where he is starting to homestead with his two children and wife.
You can reach Michael at mjohnson@agweek.com or 218-640-2312.
Conversation

ADVERTISEMENT

What To Read Next
Get Local

ADVERTISEMENT