MOLDY NETTLES AND COLLAPSE

The harvest was supposed to happen in late August, early September. But Kristine had also said I could harvest until all the leaves had fallen off, or the fiber had released the stem at the root. So as the sun shone in summer temperatures, I continued to harvest through September. The plants hung dry and brittle in rows, and the season as a wall decoration in the garden's ballroom was drawing to a close.

300 nettles, or 12,000 nettles, had been harvested and dried. Now they awaited the next stop on their journey - the deep rest inside Ryghsetras barn in Hagatjern, Mjøndalen. Here they will dry until July 2022.

But the barn also had to be prepared. Every year, Aud and Gunnar Bakken organize courses and tree defoliation with an emphasis on practical management of biodiversity. Now the barn would also have to accommodate 12,000 nettles while still providing good ventilation and accessibility.

THE GATES OF HEAVEN OPEN

Then the meteorologists rattle their umbrellas and warn of floods and rain! And rain and high humidity can prevent you from drying out the moisture from the nettles. Which in turn can lead to mold. Which in turn can destroy the fiber.

So that the dry, fine plants wouldn't get soaked just before the barn dry, I moved them under roof and cover. OUTSIDE! In addition, I stacked plates around so that the coming rain wouldn't bounce on the plants. And those that didn't get orchestra space were moved to the outhouse. Firewood, car trailers, lawn mowers, garden furnitures and snow shovels were thrown out so that the plants would stay dry on their toes. I was both a Samaritan and a mother hen.

But all these good measures only did harm and no good! Because when amateurs like me tamper with nature or agriculture, it just becomes NONSENS.

HOW DID IT GO?

So how to fix the damage? Oh my, these nettle bundles had become much bigger to me than weed stalks. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I love them like an animal or a child!

Some bundles were hung out to dry, and those that remained under cover were given more space and more draft. The gang inside the outhouse got an extra "treat", - a fan with cold air and draft. And the wet plants dried just fine.

At Ryghsetra, Aud and Gunnar were waiting with poles and hangers. I have no words for what an experience it was to get the plants into this good house with draft and the smell of hay, nettles and leaves. The barn had dried crops for (several?) hundred years and is today managed by safe people with experience in harvesting and drying in harmony with nature. We celebrated with the farm's apple cake and apple juice inside the barn. I shrugged my shoulders and thought: I BELIEVE IN A LIFE BEFORE DEATH!

WHAT DID I LEARN FROM THIS?

Well… Unfortunately Kristine still doesn’t get to come and look at the “crop”, so I’m crossing my fingers that there are manageable amounts of mold that don’t break down the fiber. If I had left them hanging outside, they wouldn’t have mold and sooner or later dried. Or would they? What if the rain hadn’t stopped? We’ve had years where it rained for weeks? Wouldn’t that have become a form of retting?

I learned something very simple and brutal; Sometimes things just go wrong! It did in the old days too. Sometimes an entire crop would go to pieces. Nature doesn’t deal with strategic plans or contracts. Most likely the fiber will be fine. And if it doesn’t, I’ll have to harvest even more next year. My son-in-law comforted me: “Either it goes well, or it will past!”