As Hubby and I were cleaning out the garden barn, our eleven-year-old joined us and mostly sat on the lawn mower and watched. At that age, children are too cool to do anything in the barn. To her credit, though, she is a very helpful girl and assists willingly in the slightly less earthy areas of life around the house.
We had transported an old desk to the farm to put in the barn as a work table for me. We put a pallet on the dirt floor, put the desk on it, and happened to place a chair nearby. Our daughter asked Dad what Mom was going to be doing in here. He turned to her and jokingly replied that Mom could sit and write at the desk. Our girl pondered this image for a moment, a bit confused as to how one would write without a computer, and, after arriving at an idea that translated into her vernacular, in all seriousness, said, "Oh, you mean old-fashioned blogging!"
Of course, that's what he meant.
*Song title courtesy of Bob Dylan, who is even older than I am.
July 20, 2009
July 10, 2009
Some More Tao of Farming
Let us gaze upon the beautiful wheat of this summer that will probably not be harvested to be used as food for people who make bread. Such are the ways of the world these days.
But wait! This is not a negative piece. I simply wanted to thank Mother Nature for producing the awesome sight seen here. Because of the current system of economics and insurance, it is more profitable for us to forsake our lovely wheat and collect the insurance for it. (For the gruesome details, see previous post.) Nevertheless, there is no cost to appreciating it for what it is -- the fruits of our labors and the bounty of Mother Earth. Also, it will not be totally forsaken as it will be baled along with the clover for hay for some very lucky cows!
If we look at this event as an instance in time along a continuum of life, the monetary rewards become stripped of their importance, to some extent. Not everything valuable is directly related to money, fortunately. So, I take a page from the fabulous writings of my daughter, Julie, and give you a list of those farming things that do put a smile on my face, time and time again:
(Here is that smile, by the way)
True? Definitely.
*A reference to the good ole' boys of Boston Legal as they solved all of life's problems at the end of every show on a fancy balcony with a glass of brandy and cigars (we use wine and snacks).
But wait! This is not a negative piece. I simply wanted to thank Mother Nature for producing the awesome sight seen here. Because of the current system of economics and insurance, it is more profitable for us to forsake our lovely wheat and collect the insurance for it. (For the gruesome details, see previous post.) Nevertheless, there is no cost to appreciating it for what it is -- the fruits of our labors and the bounty of Mother Earth. Also, it will not be totally forsaken as it will be baled along with the clover for hay for some very lucky cows!If we look at this event as an instance in time along a continuum of life, the monetary rewards become stripped of their importance, to some extent. Not everything valuable is directly related to money, fortunately. So, I take a page from the fabulous writings of my daughter, Julie, and give you a list of those farming things that do put a smile on my face, time and time again:
(Here is that smile, by the way)- cooking over the open campfire in the firepit we made
- watching the children run wild and grow like weeds
- sitting on the patio watching the deer walk up the ridge across the pond, stopping at their salt lick, looking over at us, and heading on to the forest (maybe minus one during hunting season)
- enjoying 'Denny and Alan time'* complete with matching wool pajama tops
- hiking our land...yes...OUR land!
- taking pride in the home and barns we built ourselves
- checking on the beavers and their dams on the creek and wondering just how many trees to share with them
- putzing in our respective barns
- taking the raft out on the pond, disturbing the great blue heron so that she dropped her fish (sorry!)
- cuddling farm kittens and enjoying their antics, watching them grow
- tractoring around
- napping
- gardening
- mowing
- fishing
- viewing the moon and stars without the interference of city lights
- welcoming friends and family from near and far (Marlin can't wait for Jayne's visit)
- basking in the friendship and protection of our beloved neighbors
- reveling in the changing of the seasons and enjoying the charms of each one: planting new items in the spring, harvesting wonderful fruits in the summer, witnessing the colors of the fall, catching snowflakes in the winter
- looking forward to retiring on our little slice of heaven one day.
True? Definitely.
*A reference to the good ole' boys of Boston Legal as they solved all of life's problems at the end of every show on a fancy balcony with a glass of brandy and cigars (we use wine and snacks).
July 8, 2009
The Tao of Farming
Live and learn.
You win some, you lose some.
C'est la vie.
All these axioms may help us face little failures in life but I'm seriously considering putting farming in a class by itself.
Farming's axioms could include:
No matter what you do, you will fail.
Everything is for naught.
It's a zero-sum game and you'll get zero as the sum. Every time.
You get the idea.
Here is a photo of our beautiful wheat that is just about ready to be harvested. Last year, we lost most of our wheat crop to the floods and we didn't have insurance. We did manage to recuperate some of our losses as organic wheat went for $18/bushel (as compared to regular wheat that was going for about $5/bushel) and we got about 50 bushels off our land. (We should have gotten over 700 bushels.) So, we were able to pay for the combining, had a little money from the wheat, and milled some of it into flour for our CSA members and ourselves.
We re-planted wheat for this year AND took out insurance on it. (We're pretty bright.)
Well, last weekend, we traveled around our land and were thrilled that the wheat was looking very good (full heads, ripe, drying out like it should) and the clover and grass we planted this spring was coming up just as we hoped under the wheat to make hay in the late summer and fall. Of course, not all the fields were primo, but the fact that SOME were really excited us. Our farm was really coming along. It wasn't simply comprised of weed fields anymore. Our planning was working out. And, remember, we were insured.
What could go wrong?
We did what we always do. We called our mentor, Dan, to schedule the combining of our lovely wheat. He had the sad duty of informing us that organic wheat prices had fallen to $6/bushel.
WHAT???????
OK. OK. Let us recover ourselves. OK. We'll be OK. We had counted on the insurance to pay around $9/bushel. But that would only happen if the crop failed. What do we do now that we have good wheat that will only bring $6/bushel?
Do you see how unfair this all is?
So I proceeded to call the local grain dealer to find out the exact going price of organic wheat. Kevin was very happy to take my call but also had a sad duty to perform. Not only is organic wheat going for very little, it is not going AT ALL. He knew of NO ONE wanting wheat. Everyone he knows has wheat leftover from last year. He is recommending that we find a place to store our wheat (another expense) for at least two months and then, MAYBE, we'll be able to sell it. No guarantees.
Too bad we didn't have the floods this year.
You win some, you lose some.
C'est la vie.
All these axioms may help us face little failures in life but I'm seriously considering putting farming in a class by itself.
Farming's axioms could include:
No matter what you do, you will fail.
Everything is for naught.
It's a zero-sum game and you'll get zero as the sum. Every time.
You get the idea.
Here is a photo of our beautiful wheat that is just about ready to be harvested. Last year, we lost most of our wheat crop to the floods and we didn't have insurance. We did manage to recuperate some of our losses as organic wheat went for $18/bushel (as compared to regular wheat that was going for about $5/bushel) and we got about 50 bushels off our land. (We should have gotten over 700 bushels.) So, we were able to pay for the combining, had a little money from the wheat, and milled some of it into flour for our CSA members and ourselves.We re-planted wheat for this year AND took out insurance on it. (We're pretty bright.)
Well, last weekend, we traveled around our land and were thrilled that the wheat was looking very good (full heads, ripe, drying out like it should) and the clover and grass we planted this spring was coming up just as we hoped under the wheat to make hay in the late summer and fall. Of course, not all the fields were primo, but the fact that SOME were really excited us. Our farm was really coming along. It wasn't simply comprised of weed fields anymore. Our planning was working out. And, remember, we were insured.
What could go wrong?
We did what we always do. We called our mentor, Dan, to schedule the combining of our lovely wheat. He had the sad duty of informing us that organic wheat prices had fallen to $6/bushel.
WHAT???????
OK. OK. Let us recover ourselves. OK. We'll be OK. We had counted on the insurance to pay around $9/bushel. But that would only happen if the crop failed. What do we do now that we have good wheat that will only bring $6/bushel?
Do you see how unfair this all is?
So I proceeded to call the local grain dealer to find out the exact going price of organic wheat. Kevin was very happy to take my call but also had a sad duty to perform. Not only is organic wheat going for very little, it is not going AT ALL. He knew of NO ONE wanting wheat. Everyone he knows has wheat leftover from last year. He is recommending that we find a place to store our wheat (another expense) for at least two months and then, MAYBE, we'll be able to sell it. No guarantees.
Too bad we didn't have the floods this year.
July 1, 2009
All Grown Up
"When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years." Mark Twain
And a less benevolent, albeit true-at-times one,
"Mothers of teenagers know why animals eat their young." Unknown author
But I digress.
Let's stick with the Twain quote. It's much more appropriate.
My eldest daughter called me today with a question I have been waiting 20 years to field: "Tell me about my heritage." My first reaction was to laugh with recognition that yours truly was about the same age when she had the wonderful opportunity to spend some months with her own grandparents, basking in their love and picking their brains for that all-too-dwindling oral history of our family.
My response was to refer her to my initial entries about our ancestry: I Finally Got One and Coming Full Circle Times Two. Not to brag, but these do seem well-written and succinct, two qualities appreciated by the young.
Her next question was just as much fun.
"What, exactly, is meant by 'organic'?" (See recent entry about said daughter's new job.)
I love it!
So, I proceeded to give her about an hour's worth of organic farming, from the global issues of sustainability and feeding the world's population to the big, bad evil Monsanto, Syngenta and Bill Gates and their monopoly on conventional farming and their interest in the Svalbard Seed Vault to the history of farming itself to the reason organic food is here to stay to the politics of it all and everything in between.
I could feel her almost taking notes over the phone.
"Wow, Mom, you know so much! Can you jot the main points down and send them to me in an email?" So, I guess I get to take the notes. Oh, well. That's OK.
I'm just glad I was ready and had learned so much in the past seven years.
And a less benevolent, albeit true-at-times one,
"Mothers of teenagers know why animals eat their young." Unknown author
But I digress.
Let's stick with the Twain quote. It's much more appropriate.
My eldest daughter called me today with a question I have been waiting 20 years to field: "Tell me about my heritage." My first reaction was to laugh with recognition that yours truly was about the same age when she had the wonderful opportunity to spend some months with her own grandparents, basking in their love and picking their brains for that all-too-dwindling oral history of our family.
My response was to refer her to my initial entries about our ancestry: I Finally Got One and Coming Full Circle Times Two. Not to brag, but these do seem well-written and succinct, two qualities appreciated by the young.
Her next question was just as much fun.
"What, exactly, is meant by 'organic'?" (See recent entry about said daughter's new job.)
I love it!
So, I proceeded to give her about an hour's worth of organic farming, from the global issues of sustainability and feeding the world's population to the big, bad evil Monsanto, Syngenta and Bill Gates and their monopoly on conventional farming and their interest in the Svalbard Seed Vault to the history of farming itself to the reason organic food is here to stay to the politics of it all and everything in between.
I could feel her almost taking notes over the phone.
"Wow, Mom, you know so much! Can you jot the main points down and send them to me in an email?" So, I guess I get to take the notes. Oh, well. That's OK.
I'm just glad I was ready and had learned so much in the past seven years.
June 23, 2009
Always Listen to Your Mother
Joined by our four wonderful girls, we enjoy life on the farm as often as we can.
I must come clean.
Even though this sentence can be found in the About Me part of this blog, it is not entirely true. Most weekends, we are joined by our two younger daughters -- Maddie, 11 and Maya, 8 -- over whom we still hold some sway, which is tenuous at best. (As a friend/therapist reminded us recently, our job as parents was pretty much done when they were 4 or 5 years old.)
The older two girls -- Julie, 20 and Amelia, 18 -- are off on their own now and can't be bothered with this organic farming experiment that the old folks are on.
Therein lies their mistake! (Bwah-ha-ha)
A recent case in point:
Julie, our 20-year-old, recently called me to tell me that she was being sent to a trade show in Chicago as part of her new job. She called me as she was on her way to the show. She was panicking. She felt out of her element and at a loss, lacking in background. This is the young woman who has traveled the globe, commands the respect of her peers and colleagues at Loyola University, and can talk her way out of just about any situation -- in two languages! But she never really wanted to pay attention when the subject was organic farming.
I pause to take a moment to revel in the satisfaction that rarely comes with motherhood.
Her new job, you may ask?
Representative for the the Agricultural and Fisheries Division of the Quebec Delegation in Chicago.
The trade show she was attending?
The All Things Organic international trade show.
Can you say karmic justice?
I must come clean.
Even though this sentence can be found in the About Me part of this blog, it is not entirely true. Most weekends, we are joined by our two younger daughters -- Maddie, 11 and Maya, 8 -- over whom we still hold some sway, which is tenuous at best. (As a friend/therapist reminded us recently, our job as parents was pretty much done when they were 4 or 5 years old.)
The older two girls -- Julie, 20 and Amelia, 18 -- are off on their own now and can't be bothered with this organic farming experiment that the old folks are on.
Therein lies their mistake! (Bwah-ha-ha)
A recent case in point:
Julie, our 20-year-old, recently called me to tell me that she was being sent to a trade show in Chicago as part of her new job. She called me as she was on her way to the show. She was panicking. She felt out of her element and at a loss, lacking in background. This is the young woman who has traveled the globe, commands the respect of her peers and colleagues at Loyola University, and can talk her way out of just about any situation -- in two languages! But she never really wanted to pay attention when the subject was organic farming.
I pause to take a moment to revel in the satisfaction that rarely comes with motherhood.
Her new job, you may ask?
Representative for the the Agricultural and Fisheries Division of the Quebec Delegation in Chicago.
The trade show she was attending?
The All Things Organic international trade show.
Can you say karmic justice?
June 18, 2009
Guess Who Likes Beet Greens?
When one grows one's own food, one tends to get a bit more careful about what one discards when preparing said food.
Let's take beets.
A little background...I have been trying to grow beets for three years now. Each year, I have planted at least two rows (usually four or five) of a couple of varieties of beets. Out of a cumulative 100-plus row feet of beets, mother nature blesses me (in a good year) with maybe one meal's worth of beets per season, i.e., about six beets.
This year was different. I planted only two rows in a new spot, added loads of compost, a little boron (which, I found out, beets need) and was pleasantly surprised to get a meal's worth about two weeks ago with the promise of a few more meals left in the rows for subsequent weeks.
Don't get me wrong, the rows were by no means full of beets, but they were exponentially better than in any prior year.
But back to the greens.
We brought home that beautiful, first, beet harvest. As I contemplated cutting off and discarding the greens that I had waited three years for, I felt a little silly. Why throw these beautiful greens away? So, I cleaned them up and sautéed them up with a little garlic, salt and red onion. I placed them as a bed under fresh tomatoes and herbs and grated parmesan cheese on top. Much to my surprise, everyone really liked the addition to the salad! Even my Mom commented that she really enjoyed the greens. I was thrilled.
So, you can imagine my utter dismay when, upon arriving at the farm last Tuesday evening, two large female deer were leisurely grazing INSIDE MY GARDEN. Apparently, a storm had damaged the fence and they were able to get in. Even worse, however, is that they evinced a particular fondness for the beet greens. Up and down the two rows of beets, all that remained were half-eaten beets and deer hoofprints.
Balance was maintained in the universe, I suppose. I had my one meal's worth of beets yet again this year.
Let's take beets.
A little background...I have been trying to grow beets for three years now. Each year, I have planted at least two rows (usually four or five) of a couple of varieties of beets. Out of a cumulative 100-plus row feet of beets, mother nature blesses me (in a good year) with maybe one meal's worth of beets per season, i.e., about six beets.
This year was different. I planted only two rows in a new spot, added loads of compost, a little boron (which, I found out, beets need) and was pleasantly surprised to get a meal's worth about two weeks ago with the promise of a few more meals left in the rows for subsequent weeks.
Don't get me wrong, the rows were by no means full of beets, but they were exponentially better than in any prior year.
But back to the greens.
We brought home that beautiful, first, beet harvest. As I contemplated cutting off and discarding the greens that I had waited three years for, I felt a little silly. Why throw these beautiful greens away? So, I cleaned them up and sautéed them up with a little garlic, salt and red onion. I placed them as a bed under fresh tomatoes and herbs and grated parmesan cheese on top. Much to my surprise, everyone really liked the addition to the salad! Even my Mom commented that she really enjoyed the greens. I was thrilled.
So, you can imagine my utter dismay when, upon arriving at the farm last Tuesday evening, two large female deer were leisurely grazing INSIDE MY GARDEN. Apparently, a storm had damaged the fence and they were able to get in. Even worse, however, is that they evinced a particular fondness for the beet greens. Up and down the two rows of beets, all that remained were half-eaten beets and deer hoofprints.
Balance was maintained in the universe, I suppose. I had my one meal's worth of beets yet again this year.
June 9, 2009
Re-thinking That "Green is My Favorite Color" Entry
So, I've mentioned previously that I'm hopelessly in love with Spring. Well, yes, after a winter in Nebraska and Iowa anyone would be, I suppose. But, heady with all the new life of the season, I forgot about the other green things that come with the season, namely, weeds.
But, before we tackle them, let us enjoy the memorable fishing experience that Maya had with our beloved GodCarol (yes, she is very close to the Almighty). We stocked our pond three years ago and had not fished a single item out of it, mostly because we are not fishermen. Carol happens to be an expert and shared her knowledge with Maya and actually caught a decent fish! Thanks, Carol! Now we know that our pond has fish in it. And we have Maya, the eight-year-old, to teach us what to do to repeat the event.
The problem with Spring is that many folks want to usurp it for their own purposes. It's not just the time that life returns. It is also the time when the school year ends, children graduate, (I've got one in the above picture and will have more in the years to come, as you can see), and, because of said graduations, relatives arrive to visit, dinners must be prepared, couples argue about said relatives and dinners, other couples get unnerved about the family presence itself, other members chafe at each other because they are not used to each other, other members contemplate the meaning of life and relationships and everything under the sun.
All of which brings me back to the weeds. The weeds at the farm are almost out of control. (I'll get to them eventually, don't worry.) But I am reminded of a National Geographic article I read about ten years ago. It featured an African farmer who grew a crop for grain. It was full of weeds. When some well-intentioned Westerner asked him why he allowed the weeds to grow rather than killing them with some Round-Up type of herbicide, the farmer responded that he harvested the weeds and fed them to his cattle. Given the desert conditions, he was glad to have the weeds to feed to his animals.
Another anecdote that came to mind while contemplating the omnipresent weeds was the one where the neighbors of a certain homeowner got together to comment on said homeowners lack of mowing. The response by said homeowner was that he was "growing children that year". This is our thought as we notice our grass growing at home. Mowing is not high on the priority list when you have live, little beings clamoring for your attention.
But back to tackling the weeds...just last weekend, one of said relatives, my sister, Dec, spent a couple of hours cleaning out the Brussels sprouts, cabbages, and cauliflower. They should do well now. We also mulched the tomatoes and peppers and eggplant before the weeds can take over. I still need to clean out the herb garden and the asparagus bed. And don't get me started on the potatoes and squashes! Ugh!
I guess it's the price one pays for growing things that you want amidst things that you don't want. But those things you don't want are part of the life that comes in the spring. :)
But, before we tackle them, let us enjoy the memorable fishing experience that Maya had with our beloved GodCarol (yes, she is very close to the Almighty). We stocked our pond three years ago and had not fished a single item out of it, mostly because we are not fishermen. Carol happens to be an expert and shared her knowledge with Maya and actually caught a decent fish! Thanks, Carol! Now we know that our pond has fish in it. And we have Maya, the eight-year-old, to teach us what to do to repeat the event.
The problem with Spring is that many folks want to usurp it for their own purposes. It's not just the time that life returns. It is also the time when the school year ends, children graduate, (I've got one in the above picture and will have more in the years to come, as you can see), and, because of said graduations, relatives arrive to visit, dinners must be prepared, couples argue about said relatives and dinners, other couples get unnerved about the family presence itself, other members chafe at each other because they are not used to each other, other members contemplate the meaning of life and relationships and everything under the sun.
All of which brings me back to the weeds. The weeds at the farm are almost out of control. (I'll get to them eventually, don't worry.) But I am reminded of a National Geographic article I read about ten years ago. It featured an African farmer who grew a crop for grain. It was full of weeds. When some well-intentioned Westerner asked him why he allowed the weeds to grow rather than killing them with some Round-Up type of herbicide, the farmer responded that he harvested the weeds and fed them to his cattle. Given the desert conditions, he was glad to have the weeds to feed to his animals.
Another anecdote that came to mind while contemplating the omnipresent weeds was the one where the neighbors of a certain homeowner got together to comment on said homeowners lack of mowing. The response by said homeowner was that he was "growing children that year". This is our thought as we notice our grass growing at home. Mowing is not high on the priority list when you have live, little beings clamoring for your attention.
But back to tackling the weeds...just last weekend, one of said relatives, my sister, Dec, spent a couple of hours cleaning out the Brussels sprouts, cabbages, and cauliflower. They should do well now. We also mulched the tomatoes and peppers and eggplant before the weeds can take over. I still need to clean out the herb garden and the asparagus bed. And don't get me started on the potatoes and squashes! Ugh!
I guess it's the price one pays for growing things that you want amidst things that you don't want. But those things you don't want are part of the life that comes in the spring. :)
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