Weeks 4, 5, & 6

It’s been a while since my last post—sorry for the delay! I’ve had busy weekends; one hiking in the Adirondacks and one at home in Vermont. I got out of the habit of writing every day, so I’ll do my best to recap the events of the past few weeks.

 North Country sky

First of all, here’s a recipe for homemade bug dope that actually works. It’s been a savior for me in the gardens, as the deer flies and mosquitoes tend to be relentless. The ingredients are listed in order from most to least—I don’t do well with exact amounts.

            Olive oil
            Bay Oil
            Eucalyptus
            Pennyroyal
            Rosemary

Mix it, bottle it—ta da—deet-free bug dope that works!

Anyway, in the past few weeks, Mike and I have made kale chips, picked peas, broccoli, golden and red beets, and green and yellow beans, helped Paul weed and mulch his blueberries (after which I felt like a piece of toast, colored to a nice golden crisp), moved and stacked piles of firewood, prepared a primitive campsite in the woods behind the house, weeded in a complete downpour, weeded in the sweltering heat, felled trees at Paul’s that were shading his gardens, and moved solar panels, relocating them to a mount on the side of the house.

One morning after we finished packing the CSA boxes, there was some excitement on the farm. All of a sudden I heard “what the hell?!” come from Mike, who was standing at the counter making coffee. I looked out the window where he was and saw dirt flying through the air around the asparagus plants. I was confused, and wondering why the dirt seemed to have a mind of its own, when Mike exclaimed, “the chickens are loose!” Clearly the coffee would have to wait.

Mike grabbed what was basically a glorified butterfly net with an extra-long handle and began the chase. Out of over 10 chickens, only one had decided to stay in the coop and not follow its sisters into the great unknown. When a chicken was caught, I clipped one side of its wing feathers so it couldn’t fly out of the coop. The whole thing was very comical—I wish one of us had been equipped with a video camera. Maria and Ian arrived home and assisted us, trying to get behind the birds that had wandered into the woods and coax them out. Mike joked that a chicken was going to come up the hill with Ian in the net. Ha! After much yelling, running, and squawking, all the birds were back where they belonged, and I was happy to have witnessed my first animal-escape farm crisis.

Yesterday was all about garlic, as we attended Birdsfoot Farm’s annual Garlic Festival. Basically, they invite all their friends over to help pull, peel, and hang nearly 10,000 bulbs of garlic—all with the promise of good food and conversation throughout the day. Many hands make light work, and we were done pulling garlic by lunchtime, after which I got a tour of the farm and came back to the peeling circle just in time for ice cream. It was a great way to end my time on the farm. Only two days left before I return home to Vermont! Thanks for following along, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading about my adventures just as much as I’ve enjoyed experiencing them. I’ll leave you with this tidbit greatness that was quoted in Three Cups of Tea, which I read last week:

There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you?

-RUMI

Week 3

I’ve found that I’ve been writing less and less as the weeks go on, so these blog entries are a good way for me to sit down, focus, and reflect on the week.

This week I read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. I know I’m a little late getting on this train, but I’d been hesitant to pick it up because I’d heard several people say that Gilbert as a narrator was selfish and rather annoying. I, however, lapped up Gilbert’s words like a thirsty puppy. Often times I found myself laughing out loud at her humor, with only the birds outside Sally’s Place to hear me. I can see how she could be viewed as both selfish and arrogant (and she admits to embodying these faults repeatedly throughout the memoir), but I also respect her for taking a year to travel, learn, experience, and discover. Oh yeah, and eat. I think everyone needs to be more open to the idea of enjoying themselves for more than just a short portion of their lives. We work and work and work so we can relax and enjoy ourselves when we’re old and retired. But what about now? Selfish or not, I don’t think Gilbert should be criticized for doing something that most people probably wish they could do. She certainly infused the travel bug in me once again.

At the same time, though, I’m happy and content on the farm. Monday was spent harvesting crops for Tuesday’s CSA. Mike and I picked kale, collards, French breakfast radishes (these are so good), beets, shallots, and garlic scapes. I weeded the gardens for most of the afternoon before going into town to help Maria and Mackenzie with a project called Campus Kitchens. Several other SLU students were there, helping to prepare a meal and then serve it at the local Unitarian church. Monday was also exciting because it was the first day that Mike’s homegrown Pohu Oyster mushrooms made an appearance. He drills holes in the sides of 5-gallon buckets and layers soaked straw or coffee grounds with mushroom spawn, waits for a while, and then—mushrooms come out of the holes in the buckets! I really wish I liked mushrooms. Maybe if I want it enough my taste buds will catch up with my mind.

On Tuesday, we picked leaf and head lettuce, basil, and parsley, packed up the CSA boxes, and set off to deliver. It was one of those days, though, so first we made a necessary stop at the Potsdam co-op for coffee. Upon returning to the farm, we prepared several flats of lettuce and broccoli, gave them a good dose of water, and stuck them in the greenhouse. Mike and I spent most of the afternoon playing guitar. I promise, I am working hard most days. Before we all sat down to dinner, I had the whole family grooving to the Mumford & Sons album I burned for Mike that afternoon. I’d call it a successful day.

Wednesday was an easy half-day of work. We pruned and tied up the quickly growing tomato plants and then transported a trailer-load of soil from inside the chicken coop to the upper garden. This was exciting because I got to drive the ATV for the first time—fun! I spent the afternoon on campus. I bought a scone, procrastinated for a while, and then churned out a draft of my paper for an independent study I’m doing related to my recent experiences in Senegal. One down, one to go. Back at the farm, dinner was a delightful spread of black bean soup infused with chipotles, topped with a dollop of sour cream and a side of warm cornbread muffins. In other news, I finished knitting my first scarf. It even looks like a scarf (insert self-approving facial expression here).

Thursday was a scattered day of odd jobs. Both Mike and I were feeling rather tired and unmotivated. We didn’t accomplish a whole lot before nodding in agreement over the need to go in for a second cup of coffee. After getting ourselves caffeinated, we harvested some of the oyster mushrooms from the buckets. Unfortunately, there’s a type of small beetle that are attracted to oyster mushrooms like magnets, so we had to be careful to get them all out before putting the ‘shrooms in brown paper bags. A jab with a toothpick or a shake and a blow on the mushroom usually did the trick.

After this bug-extraction, I fed boards to Mike while he cut them with a chainsaw outside the woodshed. When we were done and the wood was all stacked, the shed looked like an entirely different place. It definitely received an upgrade to at least four stars, as far as woodsheds go…

Later, I mowed the lawn at Sally’s Place and somehow managed not to mow over the little frog that decided to test his fate time and time again. It was like he wanted to get hit by the mower, or at least wanted to play chicken with it—he always hopped out of the way at the last possible second. I returned the mower to the house and was pleased to find that we were all going on an impromptu ice cream run. My “panda paws” ice cream (some chocolate/peanut butter/vanilla concoction) mixed with the scent of freshly mowed grass clinging to my clothes seemed to embody the taste and smell of summer.

I’ve gotten into a nice little routine of buying a Sunday NY Times and reading my way through it for the rest of the week. Come on, people, the thing is as thick as a pillow. Each morning while I drink my (first) cup of coffee, I read an article or two. Anyway, for some reason, I really enjoyed the execution of this routine of Friday morning. Maybe because it was July 1^st, and that just seems like such a happy date. July first! Mike and I spent the day gathering and preparing produce for Saturday’s farmer’s market—pac choi, mixed greens, leaf and head lettuce, radishes, beets, oyster and wine cap mushrooms, and pea shoots.

Saturday morning arrived, and we were en route to the Potsdam farmer’s market by nine. After fueling up on caffeine at the co-op, we proceeded to set up the Deep Root Farm stand, which is quite fancy by farmer’s market standards. A large green umbrella presides over two tables with a makeshift connector piece that creates a curve in the tables. Slices of colorful fabric are laid over the tables and topped with baskets and boxes displaying farm fresh produce.

We sold almost everything we came with, with the exception of a few bags of lettuce. I guess lettuce is old news at this time of the summer. We celebrated with more ice cream. I think I could get used to this.

This week I’m listening to Bonnie Raitt—Road Tested and you should too.