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?
June 23, 2009
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. :)
May 12, 2009
Nice Doing Business With You
I must begin this entry with a shout out to Akin's Building Center of Clarinda, Iowa.
Halla!
(I'd put up link to them, but they don't see the need for a website. It probably wouldn't bring them any more business than they already have.)
As you may have read in this space, we've been building a barn on our land. We got the roof on a couple of weeks ago and it was time to order the walls. We shopped around and found that our local (Clarinda) hardware store had the best deal, so we ordered from them, by phone, one day last week.
They said they could deliver the panels of metal and skylight plastic panels (they even had them cut to our specs for no extra charge). I told them we'd be at the farm on Saturday and could they deliver it all then? (They were very upfront with us that the delivery charge would be $12.50. I thought we could stomach that and gave them the green light.) 'Round about 11am on Saturday morning, there was a knock on our cabin door. It was the guys from Akin's with our walls.
They brought the panels, corners, and screws (which we hadn't ordered, but which they knew we would need). Andre helped them unload the materials and we contemplated the next phase of building the barn. (The goal is to make it more or less waterproof so that we can install a bed so that Andre can finally get a decent nap!)
I don't usually share personal, financial information, but, in this case, I must tell you that the total for the wall panels, et al, came to over $1,500. The reason this is significant is because all of the preceding happened without any money changing hands. We hadn't been in to Akin's to pay for anything that we had ordered and yet, somehow, it all came! I guess they knew we were good for it.
We went in later that day to settle up.
It was in no way out of the ordinary for the folks at Akin's.
God bless 'em!
Halla!
(I'd put up link to them, but they don't see the need for a website. It probably wouldn't bring them any more business than they already have.)
As you may have read in this space, we've been building a barn on our land. We got the roof on a couple of weeks ago and it was time to order the walls. We shopped around and found that our local (Clarinda) hardware store had the best deal, so we ordered from them, by phone, one day last week.
They said they could deliver the panels of metal and skylight plastic panels (they even had them cut to our specs for no extra charge). I told them we'd be at the farm on Saturday and could they deliver it all then? (They were very upfront with us that the delivery charge would be $12.50. I thought we could stomach that and gave them the green light.) 'Round about 11am on Saturday morning, there was a knock on our cabin door. It was the guys from Akin's with our walls.
They brought the panels, corners, and screws (which we hadn't ordered, but which they knew we would need). Andre helped them unload the materials and we contemplated the next phase of building the barn. (The goal is to make it more or less waterproof so that we can install a bed so that Andre can finally get a decent nap!)
I don't usually share personal, financial information, but, in this case, I must tell you that the total for the wall panels, et al, came to over $1,500. The reason this is significant is because all of the preceding happened without any money changing hands. We hadn't been in to Akin's to pay for anything that we had ordered and yet, somehow, it all came! I guess they knew we were good for it.
We went in later that day to settle up.
It was in no way out of the ordinary for the folks at Akin's.
God bless 'em!
April 20, 2009
Yep...Green is My Favorite Color
- I have tried for many years to live by the following quotation: "To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring." (George Santayana) Sounds good, doesn't it? We love that fall foliage in New England, don't we? It gives us a reason to tolerate winters in Nebraska, right? But, as I get older, I am more interested in what is true than what should be true. I check my feelings and...
Witness the dependable emergence of grass in mid-April (which has already been mown once! Ah, the wonderful smell of it!).
Witness the sprouting of lettuce, spinach, peas, turnips, and mustard greens in the garden.
Witness the blooming of flowers after a long, winter's sleep. (They're hard to see, but trust me, they're there!)There are good reasons why we love spring so much -- the re-birth, without fail, of the world every year; the warm rains that bring life to the ground; the literal birth of the farm animals as if on a schedule; the voluptuousness of warmth, seedlings, and life all around us. No wonder there is a quotation that reprimands us for being so in love with spring! The other seasons probably got together and worked on it since they were so far behind in the race for human predilection.
I swear to keep working on discovering the beauty in each season, but I refuse to try to temper the fact that spring has it goin' on, by far, over all the other seasons!
Happy SPRING, everyone!
April 3, 2009
Things That Go Bump in the Night
Yet another update on Musical Cars.
Dear Reader, you are simply not going to believe what I have to report this time about our car situation. But it is all too true.
At precisely 12:06am (that's just after midnight for you am/pm challenged folk) a couple of weeks ago, there was a knock at our door. Now, one teenager is in France so I didn't think it could have to do with her. The other teenager was safely tucked into her computer in her room. The younger children were long gone to slumberland. So, who could it possibly be? Should we even answer the door? Is one of our neighbors in trouble? Should we get the bat? Well, no, if it were a robber or intruder of some sort, why the knock? A polite thug? These thoughts are not coherent because they occurred in a flash, and they occurred, as I mentioned, at 12:06am.
Omaha's Finest*, it turns out, work the night shift, and the fact that the rest of us may be sleeping does not deter them from carrying out their duties.
And what was the infraction that brought this particular officer to our door, you may ask? Well, the fact that one of the cars in our driveway had Iowa license plates on it. I couldn't believe my ears. I even asked quietly if it was a joke. I was assured by the officer that it was not a joke. Uh-oh. We were busted.
A little background...we have the six cars. Three of them are licensed here in Omaha, Nebraska, and the other three, two trucks and a car, are registered in Iowa since we use the trucks on the farm (which is located in Iowa and on which we pay taxes) and the car to go back and forth delivering produce during the growing season. Right now is not the growing season and the car has been on vacation here in Nebraska. Logical, no? Well, no, as it turns out. You see, the rule is, any car that is located in the state of Nebraska for 30 days or more must be licensed in Nebraska. (Oh, did you figure out that it's a little bit cheaper to register a car in Iowa than in Nebraska? Yes, we have deep, dark motives for our anti-social behaviour!)
Our visitor was understanding and gave us some ideas about how to redeem ourselves. I spent the next half a day getting bumped back and forth among various municipal departments that handle such matters and finally was told the following: one of our neighbors must not have a life and called in the fact that a car with an Iowa plate was sitting in our driveway for more than the 30 days maximum. We were instructed to keep the car parked in a garage when not in use.
Seriously? Seriously.
It seems to me that said neighbor should be given the bill for the taxpayer dollars that were wasted in having that officer come to our house at midnight (he probably gets time and a half for working the night shift) and another bill for wasting my half a day calling around and another bill for all the time city bureaucrats spent on the other end of those calls trying to figure out what to do with us. And for good measure, let's add a penalty on top of it all for just being silly.
Ah, what a perfect world that would be!
*For those of you across the pond, police officers
Dear Reader, you are simply not going to believe what I have to report this time about our car situation. But it is all too true.
At precisely 12:06am (that's just after midnight for you am/pm challenged folk) a couple of weeks ago, there was a knock at our door. Now, one teenager is in France so I didn't think it could have to do with her. The other teenager was safely tucked into her computer in her room. The younger children were long gone to slumberland. So, who could it possibly be? Should we even answer the door? Is one of our neighbors in trouble? Should we get the bat? Well, no, if it were a robber or intruder of some sort, why the knock? A polite thug? These thoughts are not coherent because they occurred in a flash, and they occurred, as I mentioned, at 12:06am.
Omaha's Finest*, it turns out, work the night shift, and the fact that the rest of us may be sleeping does not deter them from carrying out their duties.
And what was the infraction that brought this particular officer to our door, you may ask? Well, the fact that one of the cars in our driveway had Iowa license plates on it. I couldn't believe my ears. I even asked quietly if it was a joke. I was assured by the officer that it was not a joke. Uh-oh. We were busted.
A little background...we have the six cars. Three of them are licensed here in Omaha, Nebraska, and the other three, two trucks and a car, are registered in Iowa since we use the trucks on the farm (which is located in Iowa and on which we pay taxes) and the car to go back and forth delivering produce during the growing season. Right now is not the growing season and the car has been on vacation here in Nebraska. Logical, no? Well, no, as it turns out. You see, the rule is, any car that is located in the state of Nebraska for 30 days or more must be licensed in Nebraska. (Oh, did you figure out that it's a little bit cheaper to register a car in Iowa than in Nebraska? Yes, we have deep, dark motives for our anti-social behaviour!)
Our visitor was understanding and gave us some ideas about how to redeem ourselves. I spent the next half a day getting bumped back and forth among various municipal departments that handle such matters and finally was told the following: one of our neighbors must not have a life and called in the fact that a car with an Iowa plate was sitting in our driveway for more than the 30 days maximum. We were instructed to keep the car parked in a garage when not in use.
Seriously? Seriously.
It seems to me that said neighbor should be given the bill for the taxpayer dollars that were wasted in having that officer come to our house at midnight (he probably gets time and a half for working the night shift) and another bill for wasting my half a day calling around and another bill for all the time city bureaucrats spent on the other end of those calls trying to figure out what to do with us. And for good measure, let's add a penalty on top of it all for just being silly.
Ah, what a perfect world that would be!
*For those of you across the pond, police officers
March 17, 2009
Water, Water Everywhere and Nary a Drop to Drink.
(a.k.a.: A second update on Musical Cars)
Those of you who follow this blog may find it hard to believe the following: I was without a car this morning. Yes, we have six cars for three drivers, but, as fate would have it in her twisted sense of humor, the planets aligned this morning to make it impossible for me to drive anywhere. You see, one vehicle is at the farm. One is the one My Honey drives to work and he left early this fine morning. One is the one our teenager drives and there's the rub. She took her car to the shop to try to figure out the cause of its dying now and then. Rather than get my big, fat, you-know-what out of bed at o-dark-hundred this morning to give her a ride, I gave her the keys to the car I usually drive, assuming that, with the plethora of cars around here, that I'd be able to take the little ones to school this morning in some sort of secondary conveyance. Ah, was I mistaken! Of the two cars remaining, one was in the garage and the other was right behind it, jacked up with a missing wheel, rendering both unusuable.
Fortunately, it was an unexpectedly warm and beautiful spring morning here in Omaha (60+ degrees) so the little ones didn't mind walking the few blocks to school. They even called a friend and made an event of it, bless their little hearts. Fortunately, also, I didn't have anything planned that necessitated a car. Fortunately, finally, the teenager felt the need to get her car back from the shop (they couldn't figure out what was wrong, by the way) at lunch time (friends were meeting at a local restaurant, after all) and, therefore, freed up my car for moi! I still didn't need to go anywhere in particular.
But, hey, order was restored in the universe.
Those of you who follow this blog may find it hard to believe the following: I was without a car this morning. Yes, we have six cars for three drivers, but, as fate would have it in her twisted sense of humor, the planets aligned this morning to make it impossible for me to drive anywhere. You see, one vehicle is at the farm. One is the one My Honey drives to work and he left early this fine morning. One is the one our teenager drives and there's the rub. She took her car to the shop to try to figure out the cause of its dying now and then. Rather than get my big, fat, you-know-what out of bed at o-dark-hundred this morning to give her a ride, I gave her the keys to the car I usually drive, assuming that, with the plethora of cars around here, that I'd be able to take the little ones to school this morning in some sort of secondary conveyance. Ah, was I mistaken! Of the two cars remaining, one was in the garage and the other was right behind it, jacked up with a missing wheel, rendering both unusuable.
Fortunately, it was an unexpectedly warm and beautiful spring morning here in Omaha (60+ degrees) so the little ones didn't mind walking the few blocks to school. They even called a friend and made an event of it, bless their little hearts. Fortunately, also, I didn't have anything planned that necessitated a car. Fortunately, finally, the teenager felt the need to get her car back from the shop (they couldn't figure out what was wrong, by the way) at lunch time (friends were meeting at a local restaurant, after all) and, therefore, freed up my car for moi! I still didn't need to go anywhere in particular.
But, hey, order was restored in the universe.
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