#farming blog

[nishantkapoor]

Sweet Corn Farming in India: A Brief Guide

Sweet corn farming has gained popularity in India, which is attributed to the growing demand and profitability of the crop. Farmers are adopting this crop because it takes a short time to grow and is a versatile crop.

 Let’s learn more about sweet corn farming in India, its cultivation process and market value.

Land Preparation and Sowing

Sweet corn prefers well-drained soil rich in organic matter. Before planting, plough the soil to make it loamy and well-aerated. Sowing is generally done in the kharif season, when the climate is warm, and the soil temperature is more than 10 °C. Agricultural improvement involves using implements such as Indian tractors. These tractors help till your land in a shorter time than the manual process, increasing the farmer's efficiency.

Seed Selection and Planting

It is very important to select the right variety of seeds to get optimum yield. Today, numerous types of sweet corn hybrids can be bought, which are disease-free. Seed planting should be done 1 inch deep, and the distance between rows should be 2 inches. Space is also useful for getting proper sunlight and aeration for growth of plant.

Irrigation and Fertilization

The proper growth of sweet corn requires a moderate amount of water, which should be supplied regularly. Always ensure you rinse your crop well, particularly when the crop is at the silking or ear development stage. The fertilizer which should be applied in the early stages of the crop is a balanced one to supplement the nutrients. Some of the tasks that can be easily done by Sonalika Mileage Master tractors include fertilization, where fertilizers can be evenly distributed throughout the field.

Pest and Weed Control

Effective weed control is critical if one is to cultivate sweet corn successfully. Competition can be made between the weeds and crops for the nutrients needed so that less yield will be harvested. When it comes to fields, make sure to use herbicides and manually pull off the weeds in order to have clean fields. Monitoring is required in order to control pests such as the corn borer and the aphids. That is why an IPM plan needs to be applied to minimize crop losses.

Harvesting and Storage

Sweet corn is ready to harvest after 100 days. When the silk’s skin turns completely brown, and the kernels in it are well-filled, it is time to harvest. Using tractors like the SWARAJ XT TRACTOR makes harvesting easy and faster with mechanical combine harvesters.

[nightbunnysong]

That girl energy because we are that girl

[kawaiibabeshop]

🌷 Kawaii Shop 🌷

Use code "TUMBLR" for a deal

[cutevintagetoys]

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[unknownn-girl]

I said it's nice to love and be loved

But I'd rather know what God knows

[thisischeri]

iMac G4, Apple, 2002

instagram: cheri.png

[pettyprocrastination]

The Revenant Wife

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of grief and death. 

Summary: Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband. 

Word count: 1.6k

Note: ficlet is based off of this previous post about Joel getting separated from his wife during the outbreak and assuming you died until you find one another years later. Reader is described to look like Sarah. Title came from the ever lovely @djarin-junk​ <3

Tagging those I think would enjoy: @pedrostories​ @thesadvampire​ @joel-mlller @softanon​ @max--phillips​ @captainsamwlsn​ @hooplahoopla​ @moondirti​ 

-------------------------------

Ellie didn’t know that Joel had a wife. 

Granted, she didn’t know much about his old life at all. 

She knew he built things. That he had a brother named Tommy and a daughter named Sarah, but didn’t like to talk about the latter that much. In one fleeting conversation, full of mumbles as her eyes began to close while they rested under the night sky she heard him mention you but was far too gone to truly hear what he said. Nothing more than the vague rumble of his voice saying “my wife” before her eyes opened once more. 

“You’re married?”

She asks with such incredulous shock it sounds more like “somebody married you?” but girls at her age hardly ever have filters. 

“I was.” 

There’s the same bristle in his throat and far off look in his eyes as when she first asked about his daughter. An open answer but one that carries enough unsaid to tell Ellie of your fate. To warn her that she should change the subject or simply shut her mouth and go to sleep before plucking his raw nerve one too many times until he snaps- 

“What was she like?” 

But Joel learned early on that Ellie wasn’t one to follow warnings. 

“Kind.” His breath stutters. “But not a pushover- she didn’t take shit from anybody.” He stares up at the sky, feeling his chest grow tight and fingers twitch by his side until there’s a rustling, the girl next to him rolling over to face him and he turns to find Ellie peeking out from her sleeping bag with a smile. 

Damn this girl. 

“Not even from you?” 

Joel scoffs. “Especially from me. The amount of times she gave me and Tommy and earful-” he shakes his head, Ellie watches a smile grow on his face in silence, as if worried she may frighten it away. 

“Did she cook?” 

Ellie thinks of the stories the older kids would tell her. The ones who remembered life before the Outbreak, who told her of freshly baked pies on weekend and fluffy pancakes in the morning. 

Joel remembers the first time you tried to bake him a cake for his birthday back when he was sixteen. How he opened the door to your forlorn face and a store bought sheet cake in your hands because as your mother told him over the phone, you damn near burned the whole house down trying to bake for him as a surprise. 

“From time to time.” 

There was only so much she could get out of him before his voice became clipped and eyes full of an emotion she didn’t quite know the name of that he told her to get some rest. Leaving her with nothing to do but to stare at the sky and wonder about these stories in the shape of a woman who unveiled a little bit more about the mysterious man she traveled with. 

Of all the silence and secrets that made up the man that protected her, she created stories to fill them. Stories of Joel Miller, husband, father, brother and badass contractor that everybody loved.   Of his soldier brother, of his wife and their smiling daughter between them both. 

In Ellie’s mind, you didn’t work. 

But not in a ditzy lame way like some boring housewife. But just because you didn’t have to. 

Joel said that everybody loved contractors so that means he probably got paid like, a ton of money to build stuff for people so you got to stay at home all day. Ellie imagined your house to be ginormous. Maybe Joel made it himself for you when you guys first got married. It was big enough that when Joel came home everyday he’d call out your name and it’d echo through  the hall as you called him into the kitchen, where your daughter sat reading as you set dinner on the table. Sometimes you’d get upset if he came home late but then he’d kiss your cheek and you would roll your eyes but smile before you all sat down and ate as a family. 

Ellie imagines Joel’s daughter, she wonders if Sarah looks more like her mother than her father. 

Ellie wonders as the sleep takes over her body, if they could have been friends. 

When it happens, months later after she’s come to think of Joel as something akin to family and he thinks of her as something he can’t say out loud just yet, she’s shocked. She’s face to face with a woman holding her at gunpoint that looks nothing like the smiling mother she dreamt of during cold nights. 

You don’t match the stories Ellie made up in your head.

You’re mean. 

No. Mean isn’t the right word. 

Cold. Yes. you're very cold. 

Ellie watches in shock as you ask where they're headed, gun focused on the center of her chest while the two boys at your side point their own at Joel, who has yet to speak. 

She waits for him to answer, but he just stares at you in awe. The same man she’s seen kill and threaten to keep her safe day in and day out is rendered speechless until all he can do is utter your name and she realizes that he knows you. More than that, judging by the way he surrenders his gun to you with no fight, something she had never seen him do. 

You lift your head to look at him, the brim of your hat raises just enough to clear the shadow cast over your face and Ellie can finally see your eyes and the snarl on your face. 

You’re also very pretty.

“I won’t ask again.” 

The two boys standing on either side of you have your eyes. Same color and intensity, narrowed into slits like guard dogs waiting for an order and Ellie sees the way Joel stares at them. 

She wonders if Sarah had brothers. 

“Out west.” He manages. “Takin’ her to her family.” 

Your eyes move to her and she holds her hands higher in the air. 

“That true?” “What?” 

“Is he telling the truth?” 

The taller one, Duke, she had heard you call him, had already ripped the bag from her back and emptied its contents onto the ground, she had nothing else to hide from you. 

But then she sees something in your eyes. A concern for her that she hadn’t seen since Tess or Marlene. 

And she understands. 

“He’s telling the truth.” Ellie forces out. 

You watch her for a moment and there’s a moment of panic where she thinks you can see right through her lie. 

But then you lower your gun and jerk your head over your shoulder. 

“C’mon.” is all you say before you begin to walk away. The boys gawk at you for a moment before you give them a look of warning and they follow in your step, occasionally casting glances behind them at Joel and Ellie who follow suit. 

She’s quick to grab onto the sleeve of Joel’s jacket and pull with a harsh whisper as the other’s march forward. 

“You know this psycho?” 

Joel flinches at her voice as it pitches up. If any of you heard her, which he gathered you did because Ellie didn’t have an inside voice to save her fucking life, you didn’t care enough to react. 

Ellie whispers his name again. Insistent and angry for answers but he just keeps looking forward. He can’t take his eyes off of you or the boys ahead and it fills her with worry but she doesn’t know why. 

“She’s my wife.”

You lead them to a cottage. Its paint is chipping and the fence is reinforced with wiring around the perimeter but it looks like a home. She can vaguely hear the soft clucking of chickens nearby and there's a flash of fur behind the fence with a pair of pointed ears that duck away just as fast as she saw them. 

Ellie has seen the remnants of homes before the outbreak. The plates still stacked in the sink and the jacket still hung up on the hook. A story telling a family that once lived within its walls and is now nothing more than memories that ghosts along its foundation. 

But this one is real. It’s yours. 

 There is a rickety wooden table in the dining room. Each chair around it seems to have been brought from a different house and is varying shades of faded brown. You kick the leg of one and nod toward it.“Sit, both of you.”

Ellie looks to Joel before sitting. He follows suit, choosing the chair closest to her. 

“I’m gonna get some bandages for that leg-” 

Joel shifts forward. “I don’t need-” 

“I wasn’t fucking asking, Joel.” 

You’re not stronger than Joel, if she had to guess. You both look the same age, but she’s seen his strength, his violence, all done for her safety and knows if it came down to it, you might not win in a fight against him. 

But at your order, he sits back in his chair. 

You turn and set a shoulder on your son’s shoulder. 

At least. She thinks he’s your son. 

Softly spoken words are exchanged while the other keeps his eyes on Joel and his hand on his holster. The boy says something back in insistence, but you tilt your head and he nods. 

“If either of them try moving or taking anything.” You offer them one final look over your shoulder before slipping out of the room. “Shoot them.” 

They listen to your footsteps slowly retreat until there’s nothing but the subtle creak and groan of the wood floor beneath them. Ellie leans forward to look at Joel, setting her hands firmly on the dinner table in announcement. 

“Dude-” The young girl breathes out. “Your wife is a bitch.”

[120daysofsodomm]

[kettlefire]

Age is but a Number (DPxDC)

Daniel Fenton was only thirteen months old when he took his first steps. Only fifteen months old when he said his first words. He was two years old when he uttered his first sentence.

Danny could walk back his whole timeline from the moment he opened his eyes into this world. Except, none of those moments counted. They held no true weight for Danny's life.

No, there were certain moments that mattered. That had a clear shift to his life. Not every moment, not every milestone mattered.

Danny was five years old when he first felt the sting of disappointment at his parents missing a school event. He was six years old when the lab door was closed in his face for the first time, but not the last time.

He was eight when his young mind realized who was the one raising him. The one feeding him, waking him up, getting him dressed, and dealing with his tantrums.

Danny was ten when he learned to love and hate his parents for the true first time. Seeing both the good and the bad in them, and still loving them despite it.

He was eleven when he watched his sister crack under the pressure. Stood teary-eyed in the doorframe of her bedroom as he watched her cry and sob. He was twelve when he got into his first real fight with his mother, hiding away at Tucker's place for a few nights.

Danny was fourteen years old when he stepped into his parents' portal. When he accidentally hit the on switch. When a combination of ectoplasm and electricity ruined his life.

He was only fourteen when he experienced death for himself. Felt his life force leave him, and flood him at the same time.

Danny was still only fourteen when his world changed. New powers and abilities appear out of thin air. When a crazed billionaire latched on to him. When Danny had taken the mantel of a hero without meaning to.

He was still just fourteen when his life was filled with constant fighting. Both ghostly and human. Things got more tense between Danny and his mother. School was a weight that Danny wasn't sure he could handle.

Danny was fifteen when he had an existential crisis. The weight of a looming crown he was meant to take on the moment he turned eighteen or died fully. Having witnessed timelines where his family was gone. Having recognized a pattern of repetition in a life that Danny didn't want.

He was still fifteen when he made an impulsive decision. It was stupid and rash. Something expected from an angsty teenage boy, and not from an heir to a throne and a town to protect.

There had been no big fight. No big showdown. His parents still didn't know his secret. Danny hadn't bothered telling Tucker, Sam, or Jazz about his great plan. One moment, Daniel Fenton was in Amity Park. The next moment, he was gone without a trace.

Danny is just a fifteen year old boy, perched on a hill miles away from home. He didn't know what he was doing or what he was going to do. He didn't even know what state he was in.

He had just flown through the sky, a bag of emergency supplies slung over his shoulder. Danny had no intentions of stopping. That was until he stumbled cross a state line, and felt it.

A strong sense of caring and love. A feeling that Danny could only compare to the love he felt from Jazz. There was a strangeness in the air, but also a feeling of home. It drew Danny in like a moth to a flame.

Danny was just fifteen, curled up on a damp hill. Staring up into the night sky, and wishing for things to be different.

Not completely different. He didn't want to get rid of Phantom. Didn't want his life to go back to how it had been. Danny wanted things to get better. He wanted to feel like a kid again, something he realized he hadn't felt in a long time. Despite Jazz's best efforts to shield him.

The first tear had left Danny before he even realized it. A shaking hand wiped the tear away, silently cursing at himself for being such a baby.

Except that wasn't the only tear. It was like a dam, he never knew was there, had broken. Tears streaked down Danny's cheeks faster than he could wipe them away. Choked muffled sounds quickly turned to harsh gasping sobs.

Danny was only fifteen when he finally broke. Curled up on a random hill in a random state in the middle of nowhere. A glowing young teenager whose glow only seemed to dull with each gut-wrenching sob. Yet the stars seemed to twinkle even brighter than ever on this countryside.

So lost in the whirlwind of emotions that Danny was too young to fully decipher, he never noticed the approaching vehicle. Didn't so much as flinch when it came to a stop near him.

Danny's pain radiated with each sound he made. With each tear that left his toxic eyes. There was seemingly no end to it all. Until a single voice managed to pierce through Danny's bubble.

"Oh, dear... It's just a boy. Quick, grab a blanket!"

A small, frail voice was all it took. A voice weathered with age, and a tremble to it. Danny's whole body froze, head lifting to look at the speaker.

Except his vision had been quickly covered for a brief moment as an old flannel blanket was suddenly wrapped around Danny's shoulders. It smelt of dirt, hay, and warmth.

A kind old woman quickly followed to take a seat beside the glowing teenager. A warm, loving smile on her lips as she brought a thermos to Danny. An equally old and warm man seemed to follow behind her.

Danny's sobbing had quieted as quickly as it had started. The teen was completely bewildered, stunned to silence. This old couple, the embodiment of the American dream, didn't so much as blink at the sight a glowing boy crying on their land.

She had called him a boy. She had called him a boy. Danny was just a boy to her. His hands trembled as he accepted the thermos, taking a drink from the still hot coco inside.

Danny's stunned silence must have spoken volumes. The old man had given out a chuckle, moving to stand beside his wife.

"Don't worry, bud. Our son is just as strange as you."

Danny was just fifteen years old when he stumbled onto the Kent farm. When John and Martha Kent stumbled upon a crying glowing boy. When a sweet old couple hadn't cowered in fear but instead embraced Danny. Offering kindness and comfort with no strings attached.

He was only fifteen when he found himself a new home. A new life. One where he didn't have to be anything more than a teenage trying his best. When his powers weren't needed, only appreciated. Never expected.

A life where a warm home-cooked meal and a mother's kiss seemed to greet him every morning and night. Where a father's touch seemed to linger in every tractor lesson, every game of catch, and every time Danny learned more about the farmer lifestyle.

Danny was fifteen when he found his family. When he met the equally kind son of an amazing couple. When he had someone willing to teach him how to handle his powers, but never expected him to.

But Danny was seventeen when his past came back. When a town and people he cared about, all came flooding back in. When the guilt and shame of abandoning them came flooding back in.

When his new picture, perfect life started to crumble around the edges. When he realized life never went well for a Fenton and Fenton-adjacent. The perfect safe bubble had to burst eventual.

And well, that's a story for another day.

[k9emote]

FARM EMOJIS SET

highland cow

cow

cow sit

goat

goat sit

sheep

sheep sit

ram sit

sheep dog snorking zzzz shooo mimi

[noseysilverfox]

October 2024

[nightbunnysong]

"You can really feel the nature, right?

What a glorious feeling..."

[photos from Pinterest]

[handmade-flower]

Tiny tiny farm •_•

[cutevintagetoys]

🌸 Kawaii Shop 🌸

[tomorrowsgardennc]

okies, time to put my money where my mouth is...

RECOMMEND ME BOOKS ABOUT GARDENING!! GO GO GO GO!!

i shall buy a few to read 💚💚💚