Waxing Poetic (farm blog)
Dry aging "carrots" (venison seasoned with vengeance)
Until recently, I’ve never thought of myself as a vengeful or spiteful person. But then, there was discussion of attending the Watauga County Farmers’ markets through the month of November in the cold!! And I thought back to those early Hickory markets in April, when I rousted myself out of bed at 4:30, leaving a pleasantly sleeping Jason in bed, to stumble down the hill, load the truck and make the trek to market alone. And I thought (vengefully and spitefully), “Jason should know what it feels like to leave a soundly sleeping partner in bed while I get up and work.” (I would like to note here, that I did, in fact, get up and attend last Saturday’s Watauga market with Jason, but it was probably so that I could see myself as less vengeful and spiteful).
And then the deer descended on our carrots. Our friend Joel came to our rescue and eliminated four of them. And we found ourselves dancing in delight at the fact that there were four less deer around to damage crops. We’re sure beyond a doubt that venison seasoned with vengeance will be the tastiest venison ever.
Deer are a factor on our farm. A fact of life we have become accustomed to. We think we know their habits and their hierarchy of tastes. First sweet potatoes, then beets and chard, then strawberries, etc. Turns out they like lettuce a lot too. But never, never have they messed with carrots. Until we made them mad. We dug the measly sweet potato crop and mowed the vines, then we covered up the chard that they had been enjoying quite heartily. And we put deer netting on the sides of the strawberry tunnels so they couldn’t get in there to eat those either. Honestly, we left them a lot to eat. There was still the remainder of the lettuce planting that they took out earlier, after all. But no, we took away their favorites. So, in retaliation (I can only imagine), they decimated the entire beautiful carrot planting. I happened by there the next day and had to go ask Jason if he’d already harvested the carrots. They were pulled entirely from the ground. Some remnants were scattered around. It looked like a stampede had run through those beds. Even the drip irrigation tape was scattered as if someone had been in there harvesting. The best carrot stand we’ve had in years, completely gone. Hours later I was still picking my jaw up off from the ground. Wow, I just didn’t see that coming.
Shiloh with the last ginger harvest (before frost)
Have you ever felt so lazy your eyes glazed at the mere thought of lifting a finger? I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately. We drag ourselves unwillingly out of bed in the morning (it’s still dark!!!), flopping about the house like fish dying for water, wishing only for more bedtime. We’ve just plum run out of steam. Nathan is the only reason we show up to work in the mornings. Knowing he’ll be there, ready and motivated to get it done. That, and the promises we made. We curse the tomatoes like last night’s liquor for making us think it was a good idea to keep producing food through November. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Back when we were drowning, and the tomatoes were blighted, and we weren’t so seasonally hung over. That’s exactly what this onset of laziness feels like too. A hangover. When we wish we hadn’t been quite so enthusiastic earlier. But like all hangovers, this too, shall pass.
View of South Charlotte from our hotel room on the 23rd floor (sorry, I never took any pictures of the Value Village outfit)
Jason and I went to Charlotte this weekend. With medical bills arriving, we figured this was our chance at any sort of “vacation” getaway. We did one of those Priceline things and got a good deal on a swank hotel room, spent a half an hour picking out our “city slicker costumes”, picked out a restaurant and a show to attend, then got up at 4:30 as usual and headed off to farmers’ market. By the time we got back, unloaded the market stuff and loaded our city stuff, I was in a bit of a feverish haze. It wasn’t until we checked into the hotel and collapsed on the cushy bed for our nap that I realized that I had forgotten all of my city slicker clothes. There I was in my crocs and smelly market clothes. Places to go, but not all dressed up. Value Village to the rescue! Instead of indulging in a fancy dinner, we found ourselves wading through miles of used clothing and shoes, but we managed to successfully disguise me as a city girl and made our comedy show in style.
Happy belated National Kale Day!
Already October was my favorite month. It contains my birthday, my anniversary, Halloween, and, of course, the awe-inspiring color display that slithers down the mountain. But now, I find out that October 2nd is National Kale Day! Talk about gilding the lily! It reinvigorated my adoration of kale chips, and made me smile to boot. Who knew even more greatness could be bestowed upon this glorious month?
October also encompasses a shift in workload. Just when our biological clocks (not that kind!) are indicating it’s time for daylight savings time to end, when we need a few more minutes of sleep, and a few more days off. When our attention spans can no longer focus entirely on the farm. Finally, we get to less time sensitive duties. The deconstruction of things. Slowly putting the farm into hibernation mode. I know, I know, we still have nearly two months left of production! But still, most of the planting is done; it’s now just maintenance and destruction. Which, I might mention, is a lovely combination of things:)
The days ooze by like oil. Viscosity alone moves me through the day. After two weeks of solo farm management, my mind scattered across zillions of tiny details, I’ve eased into a bit of tunnel vision. My long term and big picture visors have gone up and all I can see is the immediate task list. I just put one foot in front of the other and repeat. I just float along on the liquid days.
Tomorrow though, my farm partner returns to us. Although relief is palpable, there’s also a bit of proprietary pride that has evolved over the last few weeks without him. We rallied. We managed. We did it all and made it through just fine, thank you. So now, we’re not totally jumping at the bit to let Jason take back over all his previous jobs. I mean, I’m pretty happy with Nathan managing the packing shed. And don’t even think about changing out harvest schedule! There just might be a bit of grinding of gears as we ease him back into the farm workload, but we’re glad to have him back and we’ll be back to oozing before too long.
fall is in the air
After Jason’s accident, I was worried how I was going to get it all done around here. For a couple of days, everything seemed daunting and impossible as I tried to keep my cool face on for Jason. But then the rescue happened. Parents came rushing down to take on the household duties and help on the farm. The community reached out with their safety net with offers of food, labor, anything we needed! A neighbor even offered to take time off from work to help out! Suddenly, I found myself getting surprising things done on the farm, and coming home to find the kitchen clean, supper cooked, etc. Wow! Last Saturday, a farmer friend helped work our farmers’ market stand in Boone. This week, two of our former employees are here helping out and another fellow farmer is coming to help us get the harvest in and the shares packed tomorrow. Then a crew organized by another former employee/fellow farmer is coming on Thursday to help us get that hoop house up before the plants arrive the following week. I’ve never even known gratitude like this before. I mean, we’re going to be okay. We really are going to get by with a little help from our friends.
When my grandfather passed away many years back, we discovered things that my grandmother was unable to do simply because she hadn’t done them in 50 years. She didn’t know how to drive or write a check. Little things we take for granted. I remember thinking to myself that I was never going to let that happen to me. I was going to be self sufficient. There would be nothing that I relied upon a partner to do. 10 years down that road, it seems quite the lofty goal. The reality is, we have partners for more reasons than love and companionship. We have partners because there’s really too much work for one person to manage alone. This is true in running a household and running a business, but it’s especially true for the running of both. So after Jason’s now infamous burning accident landed him in Winston-Salem luxury accommodations for the weekend, I find myself in a very similar situation (minus a few years) to my grandmother’s all those years ago. Wait, payroll taxes are due? How does he do that? Wait, we have to build another hoop house before the end of the month? I never touched the very beginning of the process! Each day of his absence I find myself in awe of all the little things my partner does that I barely even notice. I find it daunting to tackle the mountain of tasks that the two of us take on every day. The first to go, for me, is food. Today, it was high time I ate something nourishing. I’ve been sleeping little and driving lots, eating bits here and there, but hardly anything we grew on the farm. But I didn’t even have the energy to “make” a salad. I just shoved a handful of arugula in my mouth and bit into a pepper. There, check “cooking” off my list. Boy, do I miss my partner.
Cleaning up the hoop house for strawberry planting
It’s September! Nobody even told me! Do you know how I found out? I began to lose focus a little bit. With more or less all the fall planting done, management of the farm switches to mostly harvesting, washing and packing and disassembly. We begin to prepare the farm for hibernation. Aside from the harvesting, washing, packing and markets, the schedules and deadlines get a little fuzzier. Well, that trellis needs to be disassembled but it doesn’t absolutely have to happen today. So I find my mind wandering. I start to read more, hang out with friends more, watch football, think about vacation… I’m just not completely focused on the farm like I am the rest of the season. It was these signs that clued me in to the fact that it is September.