Secret Gardens

I have probably mentioned before that I spent the first thirteen years of my life running wild on a farm west of Petaluma. My parents bought the farm before I was born with the intention to get back to the land - they wanted to grow their own everything and be a bit more sustainable in an increasingly unsustainable world. My Dad kept his day job, but his nights and weekends were spent tending to animals, mowing the fields, working in the garden, and fixing broken pipes and sputtering wells. Perhaps I am a bit more capable of farming and working as hard as I can regardless of consistent paychecks because my earliest example of farming was of my folks who weren't trying to make money as much as they were cultivating a lifestyle for my family.

Our twenty-five acre farm was not perfect - it didn't have much water, it was windy all the time, and it was a bit on the cold side, but I loved it more than anything else in my young life. We had cows, sheep, chickens, and a hodgepodge assortment of other animals that came and went as a part of my Dad's attempts to be a farmer (on top of his day job). I recall a couple of horses and a pony that were too mean to ride, but that I still had to take care of (I became good at avoiding bites and kicks at a young age). We had a breed of sheep called Barbados, which were supposed to be excellent grazers and great for meat, but the problem was they were mean, fast, excellent escape artists, and you couldn't catch them to save your life.

Although I loved the animals, my favorite thing about the farm was its expanse. To a kid, twenty five acres is huge! I would pack my backpack or my doll carriage and set out for the far reaches of the property with my pet sheep, Jane, in tow. My favorite spot was a lovely stand of Poplar trees in a corner of pasture furthest from the house. I would settle in and read books, write stories, or play with my friends until I heard the enormous dinner bell (a vestige from the farm's life before my family) calling me home. Even though I was a fairly outgoing kid, I treasured my solitary adventures and relished being able to get lost for a day in a patch of land that I knew so well.

When I was about twelve, I was enthralled with Lewis Carrol's, "The Secret Garden." I wanted my own secret garden, overrun with old-fashioned flowers and hidden from all except for me. I saw potential in one corner of our backyard that was hedged in by a tall, grape stake fence and our deck. The area was completely tangled with blackberries and other weeds and was hardly accessible. I had a vision, though, and I set out to create my secret garden. I cleared a narrow entrance, tore out the blackberries and weeds, creating a clean palate with which to work. My Mom took me to the local nursery and we picked out roses and other flowers befitting my old-fashioned secret garden. To be honest, I don't really remember much about my secret garden after its creation. I probably moved on to another interest or hobby and my garden was probably overtaken by weeds again. Nonetheless, I vividly remember the process of creating that garden and how much I enjoyed taking a brambly and unloved space and making it special and beautiful.

This year we are growing some cut flowers for our CSA and the process of cutting them and making bouquets has made me think a lot about that farm where I grew up. When I was a kid, I would tell anybody with an ear how much I loved my farm. When I was thirteen and we moved, I was actually a little bit devastated. I never thought, though, that I would find my way back to a farm and the farming life. Now that I have returned to my earliest passion and calling, it seems unbelievable that I strayed so far from my homesteading roots for as long as I did.

Other news -

We've been a little concerned about one of our goats, Shosanna, who has developed some very round udders even though she isn't pregnant and has never had babies. She's not acting sick, still has a healthy appetite, and doesn't have any noticeable wounds. In fact, her only symptom besides the voluptuous udder is a slight increase in goofy and hormonal behavior. Since we are relatively inexperienced goat owners, we are pretty clueless about whether this recent udder growth is normal. I've searched the internet, poked and prodded the poor goat's udders, and called the Vet, and, finally, it seems that we have an answer. The most likely diagnosis is something called precocious udder. How great is that? Basically, Shosanna is going through puberty and is developing all the necessary parts to make her a baby goat and milk making machine. I just think that precocious udder is a fantastic name for a puberty related ailment. I can actually think of some teenagers I know who might be suffering from precocious udder...

Victory!

The first tomatoes that we planted this year (April 1st) had really crummy weather for the early part of their lives. It was wet, it was cold, it was drab. Those poor, little tomatoes did their best, but they became ridden with blights. Hating to lose our whole early planting, Jeff and I went to work trying to bring the plants back to health. We spent hours doing everything we could think of to curtail the blight and then sat back, crossed our fingers, and hoped the tomatoes would outgrow their weakness.

Well, I'm happy to report that we just ate the most delicious, perfect Early Girls. A slice of Early Girl, a slab of fresh Mozzarella, some basil, and a sprinkle of salt...incredible.

So the moral of this story is: With perseverance, hard work, and the right intentions, what you want to happen will quite likely occur.

Our monster volunteer sunflower. The plant has got to be close to 15 feet tall. Healthy volunteers are a sign of a super healthy farm.

Jeff high-tailin' it through the melons.

Woah! Look how long those beds are! Although I miss the shade of the trees in our Orchard, farming on a bigger scale and starting with a blank slate feels quite a bit more efficient.

Wild Farming

Things are definitely growing on the farm. Each warm and sunny day brings us closer to catching up after the slow, wet late Spring season. The farm feels especially wild this year - I've seen more swarms of bees, wild animals, and other crazy displays of nature than I have in years past. It goes to show how much living things (plants, animals, insects, humans, you name it!) are dependent on adequate rain for life.

Here are some current farm photos:

We noticed this swarm of bees in an apple tree yesterday. I think this is the fourth or fifth wild bee swarm I've seen on the farm this year.

That really tall plant is a sunflower. The crazy thing is we didn't plant it! We grew sunflowers in this area two years ago and they're still coming up on their own. I think this particular plant is close to twenty feet tall and it's still growing! Sometimes the things you try to control the least grow the best.

Jeff's melon patch is doing great so far! Sunflowers at the ends of the rows increases pollination for the melons and look pretty too!

A crane melon peeking out through the leaves.

Our veggie block at Kick Ranch is beautifully wide open, which allows us to farm on a bigger scale. Look how long those rows are!

Defining the relationship: I'm going to be the farmer's wife

So our biggest news is that Jeff finally did the dirty deed and popped the question. Apparently he likes me a whole lot and wants to get married to me and have babies someday. I'll be honest, I'd been hinting for awhile now, but he had me pretty well convinced that he was just too busy to think about turning me into the Mrs. I wasn't taking it personally - we have been working harder than we've ever worked before and hardly have time for dinner each night, let alone deciding to get married. So it was my birthday on June 16th and I was just hoping not to get any presents that would require me to do more work (last year I was given Shosanna and Isabella, our rambunctious goats). The morning of my birthday, Jeff told me to go out to the goat barn with him and I thought, "Crap! Is it going to be a donkey? Another goat? Maybe a pig?" As soon as I entered the barn, Jeff handed me a wrapped box, which I opened to find a ring box. Still disbelieving, I thought, "Now this is a low prank...tease me with a ring box when he knows that's what I want more than anything." I kind of stood there with the ring box and he told me to open it. When I did, lo and behold, there was the most sparkly and beautiful ring I've ever seen. Me, being the classy gal that I am, asked, "Is it real?" What I meant was, "Really? You really want to marry me?" Jeff, thinking I was asking whether the ring was real, said, "Of course it's real, stupid! So, are you going to say yes?" That's when I said no....JUST KIDDING! Of course I said yes...with the goats as my witness, I eagerly, happily, ecstatically said yes to becoming Jeff the farmer's wife. So, that's the biggest farm news - we've finally, officially defined our relationship. No, I'm not an intern, nor am I just his amorphous "partner." I'm Jeff's fiance and he is mine and it is awesome!

Other exciting farm news:

• The first Armenian cucumbers are starting to come in and they are just as good as I remembered them!
  
• We ate the first ripe Early Girl tomatoes on our grassfed beef hamburgers last night and they were so good! Next on my first tomatoes of the year list: BLTs!
  
• We're getting closer to opening the new and improved Redwood Empire Farm store, so keep your ears and eyes peeled for more info.
  

I'm back!

Believe me when I say that I feel extremely guilty when I neglect my blog. I’m quite proud of this written record of the life we are living and building and I really don’t want too many gaps and omissions in my account. I have a really good excuse for not writing recently, though, I promise. I have been fighting with technology – my computer’s been on the fritz, my internet connection has been extremely shaky, and my printer is completely out of ink and I haven’t had time to drive down the dreaded Santa Rosa Avenue to get more. Contrary to what you might imagine, I don’t have a fancy, high-speed computer control room where I coordinate our business and write my emails and blogs. I have a hand-me-down Blackberry and a laptop that chugs along well enough, but no real internet connection or phone lines. It’s a rustic and improvised technological infrastructure I deal with, to say the least.

It’s not so bad though, because when technology gets the best of me, I seek solace in the outdoors and throw myself into work on the farm. Not that I really have a choice about how much work I do on the farm – we have so much to do that Jeff and I are both busy from the moment we wake up until well after dark. Today, for instance, has been jam packed with planting tomatoes, preparing beds for planting peppers and basil, picking squash, broccoli, kale, and arugula, and taking care of a slew of other farm chores
We are busy, busy bees these days. It’s hard to imagine that not that long ago I still thought I could pursue a career as a teacher while farming. I was 95% sure that my decision to dedicate myself to farming was right, but now that I have put all of myself into the farm and the farm has given back so much more than I ever hoped, I know that my decision was perfect.

I have always wanted to make a difference in the world, my community, and the lives of those around me. I am sure that Jeff and I, in all of our efforts and strides to grow our farm and ourselves, are making a bigger difference than I could make any other way. I get to grow beautiful food that brings people happiness and health, I get to meet and work with people who share my vision, and I’m even finding a way to be a source of knowledge, experience, and support for young people who want to learn to be farmers too. Our farm is organic in so many senses of the word – it grows naturally, sustainably, and adapts to the world in which it is firmly seated. The farm’s ability to transition and adapt to the changing world and our community’s needs is what will make it long-lasting, successful, and is what makes Jeff and I so excited every day to do our work.

Beautiful Dirt

Good dirt is a beautiful thing. Black, rich, moist, crumbly – it practically emanates life and the desire to grow. I was just riding along with Jeff on the tractor as he did his final disking of our bottom pasture in preparation for its planting. As we drove along, I watched, delighted, as the strong soil erupted out of the ground, turning itself into what I know will be fertile land. Every once and awhile my reverie was broken and I had to hop off and clear rocks by throwing them into the bucket of the tractor. I’m not complaining, though, because there’s nothing better for one’s constitution than some hearty rock tossing.

Perfect soil is not easy to come by, which is why it’s so gratifying when it finally reaches its prime. A couple years ago, our bottom pasture was just an ordinary horse pasture full of rocks and weeds and too rough even for our retro tractor. But now, after two years of cover cropping, chicken raising, horse manure, and vegetable growing, it’s ready to go. We have dug that pasture by hand, pushed wheelbarrows full of rocks from it, watered it, added nutrients to it, and talked to it. I can’t even tell you how many watermelons Jeff sacrificed in its honor last summer; he would cut out the heart and eat it, leaving the shell behind for the pasture to use for its benefit. We have put ourselves into that land and now, hopefully, it will reward us more than it already has.

On a less philosophical note, today was a market day. Markets require a lot of preparation (picking, packing, loading, etc) and are always a bit stressful because we depend on them to sell the majority of our produce each week. A busy market is loads of fun, but a slow market can quickly become nerve-wracking as I start to worry about making sure none of our product is wasted and how we will cover our bills. Farmers really do rely on the Farmers’ Markets to help them do business – they are, in many cases, the only outlet for farmers to sell their produce.

In addition to being our place of retail business, the farmers’ market is also a place where we gather together with other agricultural professionals, as well as our customers, and share our blessings and burdens. Every week, there is some intense topic of conversation, whether it be the good weather, the bad weather, fungus and pests, weeds, insurance, restaurants, wholesalers, varieties of plants, and equipment. By the end of the day on Saturdays, my head is usually spinning with all the ideas that have been sparked and I’m ready to pass out in a tired stupor.

Jeff and I have always thought that farmers’ markets would make a great subject for a “mockumentary” movie (think “Best in Show”). The places are filled to the brim with individuals who have all sorts of eccentric qualities – and I’m including Jeff and myself in the mix. Because of the unique nature of our jobs, we always have weird and improbable stories to tell and, because we’re only human, there’s always at least a half dozen soap opera-esque dramas playing. I’m pretty sure that the farmers’ market would make such a great movie, I am hereby exercising my intellectual property rights and staking claim to the idea. You read it here first, folks - the Market movie was mentally birthed by Jeff and Ariel of Redwood Empire Farm

Blights and Scapes

Today was another long and hard work day. We weeded, watered, picked, and planted. We spent a few hours trying to help some tomatoes that have a nasty blight from all the rain and cold. I felt like a surgeon trying to remove cancerous cells as I crawled along the rows, reaching up into the plants, and carefully removing blighted leaves. Working with sick plants isn't fun at all. The whole time, I'm sad for the plants, like they're my good friends who aren't feeling well.

The highlight of my day was pulling garlic scapes. If you don't know about scapes, here's the deal. Not long before it is mature, hardneck garlic throws up a long, slender, big chive looking thing thing that, if left, would eventually turn into the flower. It's best to remove the scapes when they appear, because that improves the overall garlic bulb formation. Well, the lucky coincidence is that scapes are great to use in cooking. They taste just like garlic cloves, except slightly more mild and light in flavor (somewhat like chives). My favorite thing about scapes is that they're super easy to use - you just chop them up and use them as you would garlic. If you want to get your hands on some garlic scapes and try them out, we will have them at the market for a couple of weeks or you can check with any organic farmer usually grows garlic. Chances are that if a farmer grows garlic, he'll have garlic scapes.

Garlic Scapes!