Localer and Localer

The amount of farm work seems to grow right along with the weeds, er, cover crops, but the days are growing longer and warmer which makes the world seem like a giant playground with a million toys called things like "pump" and "dirt" and "fence". The goldfinches (American and Lesser) have discovered the bird feeders, and the lovely song of the red wing blackbirds has (temporarily, we hope) taken the over robins' place as most common evening bird sound. The morning bird sound crown still belongs to the sand hill cranes by the creek and the pond.

A lot of work and talk (and soon, money) is going into a new irrigation scheme this year. It will be water-wise, crop-friendly, and should form the basis for an almost completely-passive irrigation system in the future. We are lucky to have some great advisors in the irrigation field (hardly any pun intended), and some wonderful WWOOFers coming in just a few weeks to help create what will be beautiful gardens on the property, and who knows what else they will come up with!

Today at lunch was the first double-year locavore-ish meal ever -- pasta with sofrito made from last year's onions, peppers, and tomatoes, and a delicious spicy herb salad made from clippings from the greenhouse. We are so lucky.

The robins have selected their nests for the year and are singing outside the window - is it a song of hope for the new lives that will hatch from their beautiful blue eggs? More chicken chicks are arriving in just a couple of days, and then a few days after that. Just as new life comes to the farm, some lives must end, and this week we said goodbye to our dear farm dog, a stout and somewhat curmudgeonly terrier who spent 18 years on this earth bringing laughter to humans and vengeance to mice. He has gone from chasing sticks into the creek to swimming back into the river of life, sent along his way by many loving friends.

Beginnings, Beginnings

It's funny to think about how much of the farming year is "beginning". There's planning to do, and more planning, and scheming, and dreaming, ordering seed, and building the soil, and starting seeds and more. This has been going on for months, and it will go on for at least another month before the first bed is planted. Appreciating and being present with work that is focused on the future is a schizophrenic experience. This is a sweet and quiet time on the farm and it's easy to be alone. This morning the wet snow fell outside the window and the juniper burned fragrantly in the stove, keeping the chicks warm in their cardboard box home. Things seem to move slowly, but like the first big hill on a roller coaster, there's the anticipation that at some point the ride is going to get wild. The chicks, just a week old, have started sprouting feathers. The transition from peep to hen is magical, fast and slow at the same time.


We've proposed our first CSA this year. It looks like it's going to be quite doable. The farmers' markets meetings have started, and we're nearing the top of that roller coaster hill. There's going to be a lot of creativity and hard work around this summer, and this is what the beginning of it looks like.