I Get My Soil Tested

In preparation for the big garden I intend to have, I had my soil tested by the University of Georgia Cooperative Extension Service. It’s hard for me to admit that I had anything to do with the University of Georgia since I am a long time Florida Gator fan, but that’s one of the sacrifices I have to make if I want to live in rural Georgia.

I obtained a small soil test bag from the local agricultural extension service agent. The bag came with detailed instructions on how deep to dig for the sample and how much soil to put in the bag.

I wish they gave equally detailed instructions when you give a urine sample. I know how deep to dig for the sample, but I’m never certain on how full I should fill the vial. I feel like it’s a competition, so I go right to the brim. I don’t want to be out-peed by anyone, especially those sickly characters in the waiting room.

I also wish the urine sample vial was as large as a soil sample bag. I can’t speak for every man, but the opening of a urine sample bottle is a mighty small target for a very inaccurate weapon. You would think that the medical establishment would know by now that men have accuracy issues and help us out. We’re not exactly wielding a laser guided smart bomb. Our technique is best described as spray and pray. We hit our target about as often a Wiley Coyote. If we can’t hit an open toilet, how the hell are we supposed to pee into a small bottle? I suggest a sample bottle with a larger opening−one the size of Rhode Island should be about right.

While I’m on the subject, do you think they could give you a bigger container just in case you really have to go? Like most every other thing in my life that part of my anatomy has two speeds: stop and go. When I say I have to go with the flow, I mean it. I think they should give you a container the size of a milk jug just in case.

Anyway, once you have gotten your soil sample, you drop it off at the extension agent’s office, and a few days later, you get emailed the test results.

I suspect my test results are fairly standard for the soils in this area. The pH is 5.1, meaning the soil is acidic. The recommended pH is 6.0 to 6.5. I did not expect the report to read like the label of a One-A-Day multi-vitamin. It said I need to add phosphorous, potassium, calcium, magnesium, and zinc to the soil. I was waiting for page two to tell me the soil needed vitamin A, vitamin C, glucosamine, castor oil, and a high colonic enema.

Fortunately, the soil test report told me what I need to do to correct these soil deficiencies. It recommends that I use 95 pounds of dolomitic limestone per 1,000 square feet of garden. I have no idea where one gets dolomitic limestone, but I assume it’s available locally. I’d really be screwed if I needed something that is only available in sub-Saharan Africa or North Korea. I just hope the limestone doesn’t come as one large lump of rock.

I’m also supposed to apply a half pound of sulpher or two pounds of gypsum per 1000 square feet of garden. This could be a long shot, but I bet I can get the sulpher or gypsum at the same place I get the limestone. It’s probably on aisle 9 between cold remedies and foot care.

All this seems manageable if you’re planning on having a 1,000 square foot garden, but here’s the problem. I also have four or five acres of field. People around here say that they lime their fields to improve the quality of the grass, and I’d like to do the same. An acre is 43,560 square feet. At 95 pounds per 1,000 square feet, that comes out to over 4,000 pounds of dolomitic limestone per acre. Multiply that by four or five acres, and you’re talking 16,000 to 20,000 pounds of limestone. Holy cow! I’m not trying to build the Lincoln Memorial; I’m just trying to grow a few tomatoes. Does the stuff come in dump trucks? How does one put ten tons of limestone on a field?

Obviously, I have a lot to learn about this whole subject. I’m heading for the library and the extension agent’s office tomorrow. I’ve got a long list of questions that need to be answered.

Yogurt. As I said in my first post on this blog, one of the reasons I moved to a rural area was to learn to do stuff the old fashioned way. I took a baby step in that direction a couple of days ago when I made yogurt. I realize that you don’t have to live in the country to make yogurt. I also realize that making yogurt is about as complicated as sharpening a pencil. But it’s a start.

The yogurt turned out to be quite good. It occurred to me, however, that making yogurt probably doesn’t qualify as doing things the old fashioned way. I don’t remember reading anything about colonial Americans making yogurt. I can’t picture Washington at Valley Forge wolfing down a cup of yogurt for breakfast or Daniel Boone starting the day with Yoplait.

I imagine that a pioneer breakfast was more like a large haunch of deer and four pounds of hominy. You can get away with a breakfast like that when your day consisted of chopping down a forest or discovering Kentucky. My day consists of wandering back and forth between the cabin and the workshop and taking long naps, so the yogurt is probably a good idea for me. I want to stay nimble just in case there is an aggressive Bigfoot in these parts.

Now that I think about it, yogurt was probably invented in a yurt in Mongolia. I doubt many Mongolians were early settlers in the New World. As I say, the yogurt is a start. Making cheese is next on my list. We’ll see how that turns out.