With a few inches of fresh snow on the ground, I could tell nobody had walked the loop I chose around the base of the hill. My clunky boots would be making fresh tracks. With my shoulders plugged back and my chest lifting toward the sky, I recalled the mantra, “blaze your own trail.” Before the thought was finished, six deer dashed across the path about 30 feet ahead. I stopped abruptly and dead silence filled the space. How could it be that six animals of the same size could be so much quieter than one?

When I started walking again, I became distracted by the deafening sound of my swishing rain jacket and crunching snow beneath my heavy boots- two feet so large and obvious unlike the four discreet hooves of a deer.

Another benefit of fresh snow is tracking animals. I saw evidence of coyote, rabbit, and squirrel. There were even little holes dug into the snow where the squirrels were accessing stored nuts, seeds and acorns.

Similar to squirrels, people too, burry their food in the ground in root cellars to keep for the winter months. Native Americans observed this method and would keep track of where the critter’s goodies were stored so they could reap the benefits. Those who think this unfair, I say, it’s just one piece of the food chain. If I were cold and hungry, and I had to choose between a filling a squirrel’s belly or my own, I’d dig up those nuts in a second.

Until that 50-degree day we had, it finally started to feel like winter. It also wasn’t until the past two weeks that I finally entered hibernation. How fortunate I am to actually allow my body to rest and recuperate from the farming season. Staying in one place, sleeping in, cooking soups, taking hot baths, and really focusing on self care is what winter is all about.

My mind does wander out of the present moment to the future all too often. What am I going to do next? That’s the big question with no big answer. Uncertainty is uncomfortable. Trusting it will all work out is not easy.

While in hibernation mode, I have been allowing my body and mind to descend from capitalism’s pressures to constantly make progress in order to be a productive member of society. So, I’m not very “productive” right now in the way of growing food to feed my community. But, the internal progress I am making is immeasurable.

Stay tuned for the less abstract philosophical posts. My life will get more adventurous soon enough. Perhaps I will bike x-country, that’s one of my many ideas. Thanks for being patient while I face all my shadows.

The winter is dark, quiet, cold, and long. It is the season for turning inward. It is a time for digging inside ourselves to find inner peace. We get a chance to pour some light into the dark places of our souls.

While I see the value of self-refection and setting intentions for the next year, I have always been eager to explore new places and quickly move on to the next journey.

Transitions are challenging for me because they usually mean less structure in my schedule. They allow for feelings to come up that are not always pleasant. I suppose I have been somewhat afraid of where my mind would go if I stayed home all winter.

I am not the only one putting pressure on myself to constantly be in forward motion. It is expected of young adults to go to college, get a job or internship, and plug right into the workforce as soon as possible, especially when one has college loans. Slowing down, taking time off, and setting goals that really line up with our dreams is not always encouraged.

I tend to do things a little differently, wouldn’t you agree? I am facing pressures that tell me to keep moving, flee the cold, and stay busy. I doubt I’m the only person who has the thought creep into my mind, “I will be happy once I______.” Or, “I can relax once I accomplish_____.”

In fact, we all can be completely happy and content right now even without all our ducks lined up perfectly. I try to turn that buzzing mind off for a moment each day and focus on all the things that make me happy and the people I love dearly.

Regardless of the season, this past month has been full of more challenges than I ever thought could be thrown in my direction. The series of events are so brutal I had to let go of the belief that “everything happens in threes.” More like, “when it rains it pours.” Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more intense, when the physical and emotional pain was too much to bear, the Universe pulled another carpet out from under my feet.

My most dedicated blog reader, Uncle Andy Jacobson died after battling cancer. Uncle Andy commented on every blog post I wrote. No matter how many jokes he made about my manure caked boots or smelling like a goat, he always encouraged me to follow my heart with this farming venture. He even sent his daughter up from New York City to work with me for a week last summer at Old Friends Farm.

Andy loved to tell jokes and he could make the entire room laugh with just one perfectly timed word. He modeled what living life to the fullest really means. Andy shook us out of our shells and pushed us to the edge. His life’s work as a graphic designer was built upon his brilliantly creative mind.

I have very fond memories of going down to NYC and staying with him and the family when I was in high school. I would sit in the study scanning every book on his shelf feeling how vast the world and how expansive the human mind. I never really enjoyed reading or writing in school until I spent time in that study. I would read for hours. My hand tried to keep up with my mind as I jotted down notes in my journal.

Thanks to Andy, my passion for writing was born.

Within the darkest moments, there is always a ray of light to remind us there is hope. It is no wonder when I uploaded my photos tonight they were all images of sunrises.

I am aware that this topic can bring up anything from excitement to fear for us. I’ve noticed my shift in consciousness comes out in both physical discomfort and pleasure; discouragement and hope; anxiety and calmness. Many events have sparked all of this energy inside my physical body and awareness surrounding my emotions.

As I sit here writing in a café, I can’t help but over hear an interview between a young woman applying to college and the recruiter. She wants to study astronomy and he is very curious about her interest in the subject. The endless possibilities the universe offers compels her to stare at the stars and wonder what exists besides what we know on Earth? She is fascinated by the limitless solar system and how little we actually know about what is happening outside of the Earth’s atmosphere.

What if our minds had no limits? I don’t have any desire to fly to the moon and send spacecrafts to Mars, but I do believe we can connect to a higher power here, on Earth.

Why the sudden interest in spiritual discoveries? Well, my job at the farm ended early November. Unemployment allows more time to deepen my understanding of the world and myself. I finally have the time and space to stay present. I try not to allow the distractions of work, internet, and the news consume more than a few hours of each day.

I am very blessed to not be employed for the coming months. This is ironic, right? While the unemployment rate in the U.S. is ridiculously high and people are really struggling to get by, why am I thrilled to add myself to the list?

For one, I worked really hard this season and deserve a break. Two, I think we ought to reassess what works means to us. Does your job truly enrich your life or is it simply a way to pay the bills? Third, why are so many people jobless when there is a huge amount of work that needs to get done if we are going to transform our communities in order to persevere on this planet? The unpredictable future that climate change creates is a perfect reason to explore unique job opportunities. Lastly, without a full time job, I am able to have all kinds of unique experiences: Occupy Wall Street, a weekend getaway in Vermont, long walks in the still green fern filled woods, chilly bike rides, and I get to watch the seasons change (even though it went from summer to winter to spring to fall this past October).

I’m sure we all have asked ourselves at different points in our lives, “How can I be most effective in creating social change while also leading a healthy life?” I am revisiting this question.

Small Tents, Big Buildings

Bike Power!

Farming fulfills me in so many ways, yet it is taking a toll on my body. Yoga and massage can only do so much to maintain my strained muscles and knotted shoulders. If I am going to commit myself to farming for my community, then some major changes to my daily routine need to happen.

I have a vision. I will not settle for someone else’s model of sustainable farming in the Northeast. The Pioneer Valley has made tremendous leaps in strengthening the local food system. We have hundreds of CSAs, a farmer’s market in almost every densely populated town, and restaurants take pride in serving local items.

"Still farming"- Oct 28 Blizzard

I am very proud to be a part of such an inspiring social change movement that is mindful of the environment. Let’s celebrate these large accomplishments together! As with any progress that is made to transform our world, we must always reflect on what we could do differently to strengthen the movement.

How is the overall health of your farmer? Does he or she have health insurance? What kind of impact does the combination of repetitive movements, physical exertion, bending over in the field for hours on end, stress, and 15 hour days have on a person? This is not a pity party, it’s a reality. This is generally the life of any working class person, not just farmers. I want to make this side of sustainable farming a little more visible to our community. If we want to truly embrace sustainable agriculture, we cannot be doing it at the expense of people’s physical well being.

My next moves are not set in stone for the winter or next season, but they will most likely involve healing my physical body. I may pursue yoga teacher training or massage school. I am ready for another challenge regarding food and farming, but before I can plow ahead, I want to figure out how to incorporate healing our bodies with healing our community’s food system. One cannot happen without the other.

How I'll miss the early morning bike commute to the farm

What the future holds for me is uncertain yet I trust this is where I am suppose to be. Now is the time to surrender and let our hearts lead the way. Our world is changing so fast and time is no longer what it used to be. I hope you will join me on this journey- hand in hand, hearts and eyes wide open.

Open Wide like the cereus who blooms only once at night

Old Friends Farm sits on top of a hill engulfed by red maples beneath where the red tailed hawks soar. Each day I try to take moment out of harvesting sunnies, lifting ginger, or feeding the chickens to really appreciate where I have found myself this season. The rich gold, red, yellow, and orange that wrap around the landscape leave me speechless. This is really where I work?

I don’t have to look beyond a laptop out my office window to see the how stunning autumn is. I am always in it. Whether I am biking to the farm or bending over in the fields there is no barrier between me and the outdoors. The air is fresh, the ground is muddy, the sun is strong, the rain often piercing (especially on a colder day like today).

Oh, today, I sigh. It was a good day overall, but my last day working with the crew on the farm. The temperature did not get above 40. My fingers either throbbed with pain or went numb but wouldn’t move, which is not very convenient while I do most of my work with my hands. The cooler where I pack wholesale deliveries into felt warmer than the air outside.

Admittedly, this thought may have crossed my mind a few times, “Although I love it here and I will miss the people, I accept this as my last day if these frigid elements are going to continue.” Unlike many people, I thrive in temps above 75 with hot sun beating down on my back. Even though I was raised in New England, I have very low tolerance for cold weather.

Now, let’s recall all the positive memories instead of my “I hate winter” rant.

GREENS

We finally have an abundance of greens this fall with cooler temps, better row cover management, and plenty of rain. Phillip is the greens grower and I am the greens processor. Every week he preps the beds by lifting them with a tractor implement, seeds them (12 rows per bed, very dense), covers with remay over hoops, irrigates if needed, waits 3 weeks, and then cuts them with the incredible greens harvester on wheels. He and this machine can do the work of six people in less time.

While all this is happening, I sanitize the washing tubs and do other little projects like pick nasturtiums and spinach, organize the cooler, and box wholesale orders. After four washings and two spinnings, we are ready to pack bags and stock the cooler for markets, restaurants, and stores. Go Greens Team!

SWEET POTATOES

This gorgeous crop is safely tucked into crates in the greenhouse curing. Some are the size of “guinea pigs” exclaimed Missy. She’s right. Two huge sweet potatoes weighed five pounds on the scale this morning. And they weren’t even the biggest. I made a sweet potato ginger peanut curry last weekend to welcome in the harvest. Sweet potatoes complement what…..?

GINGER

All but one row of ginger has been harvested, so get your supply while it lasts! I stocked my freezer and pickled almost two gallons. The deep earthy smell of freshly pulled young ginger is so grounding and screams medicine. I’d never tire of it, with the exception a few weeks ago when I harvested over 200 pounds by myself. But it was worth it for all of you!

FLOWERS

We may not have a big variety this time of year, but we sure have a lot of what is in stock. Sunflowers, celosia, zinnias. Every Sunday I do the sunflower harvest alone. Usually I bring no more than 8 buckets. Last Sunday, all three successions decided to flower at the same time (colder weather and less sunlight stressed the plants, possibly causing them to flower earlier). So, I filled 10 buckets and headed out clippers in hand.

After an hour of what felt like sunflower boot camp pacing up and down rows plopping each stem in my left arm, I surrendered to running out of empty buckets.

Phew. I reluctantly filled 12 more buckets with water because I wasn’t even halfway done. The field gradually changed from yellow to green. I ended up with 21 buckets each containing 50 stems. That’s over 1,000 sunflowers, I believe. I hope every one likes their bright sunny bunches for this grey day.

FOLIAGE

Breathtaking vistas remind my how much I love New England. Nature’s beauty is often so vibrant it can be overwhelming. Most of the fall I have felt really busy and sometimes scattered. Taking time to sink into the colors of fall has reminded me to just breathe on those long, seemingly endless days. We live in a stunningly beautiful world. Farming forces us to acknowledge nature’s treasures every day.

Thanks for a great season Missy, Casey, Phillip, Tamsin, Buzzy, Lisa, Ona, and Sophie!

Ginger Antlers Crew

Old Friends Lunch at the picnic table

My focus has shifted since I last wrote. While there are still loads of flowers and veggies to harvest at the farm, my hands are foraging from damp forests. My interest in mushrooms was inoculated the day before hurricane Irene.

“Lets make homemade pasta with a black trumpet mushroom sauce,” said my friend Laura one afternoon in Vermont. That meal began my love affair with fungi.

laura & chanterelles

Mushrooms ask to be slowly cooked in butter and cream. Life is better with butter, so finding a new ingredient that compliments its rich coating is blissful.

coral (probably not edible)

Obviously one has to very careful and know what they are doing when foraging for shrooms because many are inedible and toxic. Find a knowledgeable friend you can trust, buy a good identification book, and seek out a workshop.

hannah & mitaki, photo by ruthie oland

Since the seven inches of rain we got from the hurricane and another few inches the next week, the forest floor is covered in all kinds of treasures. Last week while walking by a river, it was almost impossible not to step on the colorful caps.

Bright orange chanterelles call out along trail-sides smelling of apricots.

chanterelles & fall foliage

Black trumpets can be hard to find as they blend in with dead leaves, but we spotted over five pounds while walking to a swimming spot.

black trumpet chanterelles

Lion’s mane, a type of coral, grow on decaying logs.

lion's mane

Puffballs pop up on mossy logs, not to be confused with the poisonous puffballs that emit dust when you step on them.

puffballs

Mitaki, or hen of the woods, grow under red oaks trees. They are very medicinal, high in vitamins, and boost the immune system. My mom spotted one growing on our front lawn beneath our ancient oak.

mitaki- hens of the woods

Cordyceps can be made into a tincture and used to replenish tired muscles after physical exertion.

cordyceps

Yellow footed chanterelles are not as tasty as other kinds, but edible.Like I said, many are toxic and just look really spectacular. Some are as big as my head and way more mysterious than growing annual vegetables. All mushrooms have a purpose, so admire their beauty and walk on.

In Paul Stamets book, Mycelium Running: How mushrooms can help save the world, he writes about mushroom’s many medicinal uses such as anticancer, antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, antiviral, and cholesterol lowering properties.

Another example of mutual beneficial relationships between animals and mushrooms is how termites and leaf cutter ants construct their nests with organic matter to cultivate mycelium. Certain fungi act as natural bactericides and fungicides, therefore ants, snails, and other insects have figured out how to eat them and share them with their larvae. This partnering has allowed lineages of ants to survive more than 50 million years and establish massive colonies.

Not only does fungus have partnerships with insects and humans, it also has mutual beneficial relationships with plants and trees.  A specific fungi called ectomycorrhizal mycelium grows beyond plant roots and is able to bring distant nutrients (such as phosphorus, copper, zinc) and moisture to the host plant.

Bottom line: mushrooms are incredible and I strongly urge you to learn about them because they hold more power than we may ever know. Mushrooms are only 10% of the fungi family. And fungi outnumber plants at a ratio of 6 to 1. Only 10% of the mushroom species have been identified.

Each cubic inch of topsoil contains enough fungal cells to stretch more than 8 miles if placed end to end. They restore soil by decomposing and recycling plant debris, which is essentially how life-sustaining soil is created, according to Stamets. Composting is our version of what happens out in the woods when a tree falls and decomposes.

A whole month has passed since my last post and I have hundreds of photographs along with stories. My cousin Nell visited and worked on the farm for a week in mid-July. She doesn’t exactly come from the most agrarian wide open space part of the Northeast (NYC), but for 14 years old, she carries plenty of confidence and willingness to try just about anything. Her soft hands and pale skin took on the hottest, muggiest week of summer. Each day was full sun and almost 100 degrees.

Nell embraced every moment and we were able to accomplish many more projects with her around. The kale she transplanted looks fabulous (despite the weeds)! The tomatoes are almost to the roof of the field house since she last pruned! The lisianthus is in full bloom and happily supported by all the netting Nell assembled.

It was great having a family member to work with and show around the farm. We made a good team and had some good laughs. All those popsicles, post work swims, and blueberries kept us going during the heat wave. It’s hard to imagine as I sit here with a cup of tea under my covers while the rain continues to pour. It appears to be all or nothing weather this season.

Between the CSA farm share we have at Mountain View Farm, our home garden, Old Friends Farm, and Crimson Clover Farm where my sister works, we eat really well. Last weekend we made pizzas on the grill. Rather than heat up the house with the oven, grill each side of the dough then add your toppings and grill once more to melt it all together.

One of the best things about summer is eating outside. At the farm, we eat lunch almost every day at the picnic table with a grand view of the Holyoke mountain range. This past week we had a picnic lunch with the true “old friends,” Dana and Mary, who Missy and Casey named the farm after. This time, take out pizza and Snapple!

When you’re farming full time, you deserve a break from hard work. It feels good to surrender to ready made food and beverages. I will add that Tamsin baked a blueberry pie , Casey juiced our carrots, and Mary made potato salad from potatoes she grew.

Watermelons! Although we don’t grow any due to woodchuck’s getting them first, there are plenty of other nearby farms who are supplying my daily watermelon intake.

Lisianthus are here in full swing! After a lot of preparation (burning tiny holes in landscape fabric, laying drip tape, seeding in late winter, transplanting careful not to bother sensitive root balls, staking, and netting), the time consuming rose-like blooms are telling us it was worth all the effort. Aren’t they spectacular? And we have over a ¼ acre to harvest.

This is the time of year when it’s hard to imagine anything but long hot days with relentless weed pressure and 14 foot tall tomato vines threatening to poke through the clear plastic roof. Remember winter? It seems so foreign and out of reach right now. Sadly, some days I find myself looking forward to a good hard frost because that means I can slow down. But then I pop a few fresh blueberries in my mouth and forget I ever considered desiring plants to die back or become dormant.

One last quick update! The young hens are now laying about 60 eggs per day. Their eggs are ½ the size of a mature hen’s, which makes them oh so cute.

Green bells of Ireland, purple balloon flowers, red zinnias, yellow sunflowers, white statice, buttery cala lilies, pink goditia, orange butterfly bush, and grey blue sea holly. Our tables at market are filled with fragrance and beauty.

I am a true summer woman and fully embrace the long hot days. When I lay my head at night, I wonder if what I did that morning happened the day before since so much happens in just one day. This past week I house sat in South Amherst. There are 15 chickens and 4 pigs. By the time 10 p.m. rolls around, I wonder was I really up at 5:30 a.m. letting the chickens out and feeding the pigs? Or was that yesterday?

It was luxurious biking the two miles to work rather than eight and getting home before six meant I had more time to bathe, cook dinner, catch up with friends, relax, and prepare for another day.

I have been tenting in the family’s back yard that I house sat for the past two months which means less commuting, less biking/driving, less physical exhaustion. It’s a win-win situation for the family and me because I get to spend time with their kids and do some chores in exchange for a great location to put my tent. Soon I will erect a large tipi that my dear friend Margot built last year.

Sleeping under the stars and moon is the best in the summer because the nights tend to cool off enough for a good nights sleep. The fireflies are my entertainment rather than the television.

I cherish my time off. This weekend I am in New Hampshire visiting relatives. My Aunt Betsy organized a yoga retreat, which I attended for a day on the porch of the Manse. My cousins and I went kayaking and swimming in the reservoir yesterday. Mount Monadnock stands grand in my view right now as I sit on the porch until the heat drives me to Silver Lake for a dip.

Days like this remind me how important it is to have family close by. I feel very fortunate we all get along and share similar values despite our differences. I especially enjoy watching the women in my family lead all of us toward more sustainable, holistic lifestyles. For the first time, I am realizing that many of us consider Southern New Hampshire to be a home no matter where we were raised. Maybe someday more of my generation will gravitate to this home.

I know some of you are laughing because you know I am a summer woman and can’t tolerate more than a month of cold temperatures. But, we all have room to change. Brrr…enough of that winter talk! And now it’s reaching that point of the day when it’s too hot to sit here and type. The lake is calling my name. Enjoy the peak of summer!

It is finally sinking in that I work at a cut flower farm. Before we starting harvesting flowers, I admit that I questioned how much time, money, and labor went into growing a crop that can’t even be consumed (with the exception of nasturtiums). Now I am thrilled with each cut flower we grow.

Every week I fall in love with whatever is ready to harvest. Two weeks ago I drooled over sweet william, now I am lusting over the sunflowers and canterbury bells. And the lilies, where to begin? They are just so elegant I feel completely at ease when I look at them.

Flowers bring joy and happiness to our hearts whether we’re aware of it or not. That alone is reason enough to grow flowers. We could all use a good mood boost living in this world, right? Of course the money they bring in doesn’t hurt either.

Speaking of the state of the world, I can’t neglect to mention the difficult weather patterns and the affect they have had on the farm. We have been extremely lucky with only a few crop losses due to too much rain, then high temperatures, then cold, then high again. The amount of rain we had this spring leached nutrients from the soil where we had a greens succession planted, causing the leaves to turn yellow and tiny plants to bolt (flower).

Our boc choi was not a fan of the wild temperature fluctuations either. Most of them bolted before we were able to harvest. When a plant bolts early, it usually means it is stressed and trying to reproduce before time runs out. Fortunately we have not yet planted in our wettest fields so no plants have rotted due to all the rain, like what is happening to many farmers in Hadley along the lower lands of the Connecticut River.

Stressed plants and golf ball sized hail can also cause a farmer to be a bit anxious. We have spent several afternoons watching dark grey clouds with a hint of green tumble towards us. The lightening has not been shy either. A tornado only 15 miles south of us makes me suspicious of how quickly we are seeing the affects of climate change. Mother nature is angry, and rightfully so.

I try to steer clear of the climate change topic because it is becoming too political for my taste. The problems we are having, and will continue to experience are urgent without a doubt. Much of the damage cannot be reversed- it is too late. There are still many ways to slow down and even halt our contributions to climate change. I applaud those who are working on this issue in all sorts of arenas.

Humans are very resilient and adaptable. Regardless of whether or not we caused climate change, the Earth is an ever-changing planet. The Earth had to change drastically over the last thousands of years in order to support the thriving human species.

Rather than “fighting climate change,” I am shifting my priorities to live more peacefully on this planet. The battle is absolutely worth “fighting” if you go after the major producers of CO2, such as the military. At this point in my life, I’d rather spend my days outside weeding carrots than in front of a computer networking with anti-war groups.

I am approaching this issue from another angle where I believe I can be most effective and still live a happy healthy life. Growing food, biking, hanging my clothes on the line, buying less stuff, and enjoying the present moment makes sense to me. If this ripples out to the bigger picture of reducing CO2 emissions, then that’s great. And if not, then I’m still not going to feel bad about it. If we lose a bed of a boc choi along the way, so be it.

Enough of that. Let me move on to something we can all feel pleased about: the bounty of June’s harvest! Carrots, beets, radishes, haukerei, scallions, chard, greens, flowers, peas, strawberries, lettuce, and fennel! Farm fresh food we’ve been waiting for all winter is finally back. Old Friends Farm t-shirts simply say it all, “well fed.”

Here’s some snapshots of some of the wonderful people I work with…

Missy (owner) holding one of her wedding bouquets

Casey (owner) & Buzzy heading to transplant sunflowers

Lisa (assistant manager)- this is often my view of her as she drives the transplanter

Tamsin harvesting sweet william

Phillip at the Northampton Tuesday Market

Me, planting soybeans in my garden

Irrigation Pond Early in the a.m. at Old Friends Farm

I highly recommend transition time. Finally after two months, my mind has caught up with my body. Three weeks ago I started work at Old Friends Farm (www.oldfriendsfarm.org) in Amherst feeling eager and excited to join a new team of farmers. And what a great crew we have! Subscribe to the weekly newsletter Casey puts together for regular updates.

Transplanting Leeks

Missy and Casey, farm operators and owners, are wonderful people and I am very grateful to have them as my bosses. They balance each other well. Missy gets silly when we all need a laugh and Casey bakes delicious muffins containing seasonal fare such as dandelion flowers. Lisa, assistant manager, can be very funny and keeps the team spirit high. She worked at Brookfield Farm and I can tell I have a lot to learn from her. Phillip works part time but I always notice when he is around because his calm presence resonates, except when directing the transplanter driver to start and stop. Buzzy, who you may see at the Amherst Market on Saturdays, is a natural farmer, even though it’s his first season farming. Tamsin is really good at bringing people together. She worked at Red Fire Farm last season and organized the Young Farmers Mixer. I admire how she models the importance of self-care even during physically demanding days.

Freshly Plowed Field

The seven of us grow greens, veggies, cut-flowers, ginger, and eggs on top of Bramble Hill. There are about ten different season extending structures including tunnel cold frames, greenhouses, and the six newly constructed tunnels called the Hay Grove where we grow ginger, flowers, tomatoes, and early crops like radishes, spinach and lettuce. In addition to wholesale, we sell at four markets: Amherst on Saturdays, Northampton on Tuesdays, Copley Square on Fridays and Newton on Tuesdays.

Remember my six darling hens last season? Well, they are doing just great in Greenfield on their urban plot. My friends who adopted them brought me a dozen eggs and they are much bigger than before. I tried my first pickled egg which they made this past winter and it was delicious.

Now my egg supply comes from Old Friends Farm. We have over 150 layers and 200 chicks that are growing very quickly. They will be our layers for next season when we cull the hens over three years old. The chicks moved to fresh pasture and are very happy with their new home. What a beautiful new coop! And look at their view!

Three days a week I bike on the bike path, which runs directly behind the farm. After 40 minutes of pedaling without ever biking on a road, I take a narrow path to the fields, which are surrounded by conservation land.

The birds cast their songs and swoop down into the tall grass. The frogs bellow very low notes to contrast the Bobolink’s high pitched call. The powerful sun burns off the early morning dew lifting moisture into the air. What a great way to start the day!

My responsibilities include seeding, transplanting, watering, harvesting, hoeing, weeding, irrigating, processing greens, loading trucks, stringing tomatoes and cukes, chicken chores, and the list goes on. I love the diversity of projects and learning new skills with a team of incredibly talented people.

I usually spend my off time in my family’s garden planting annuals and the recent order of blueberries, raspberries and asparagus. I also picked up some garden gigs for other people. When I’m not digging in the dirt, I cook meals with friends and attend a Chinese Herbalism class in town.

Saying Goodbye to Heavy Winter Pancake Breakfasts

A Super Green Meal to Celebrate Spring

My transition thus far has been smooth, but also loaded with lifelong lessons. I try to remember not to push myself too hard because a tired, worn out body is useless in my line of work. I take the time to appreciate nature’s beauty and continue to find great joy in food production year after year. I know this will be another wonderful season and I am excited to share it with you!

While working for Susan milking the goats and making cheese, I could not begin to imagine what I might be doing after the New Year. The routines I adopted felt so much a part of me that the thought of leaving the cabin and starting a whole new journey seemed totally surreal. I became part of the farm and each day the idea of leaving felt even further away, although it was frighteningly moving closer.

Waking up to Oliver walking across my face, frying fresh eggs and kale for breakfast, slipping on my muck boots, feeding the chickens, and tending to the goats was my whole life for a long time. Each job I was responsible for eventually became habitual. My muscles remembered each action as if I were programmed the way a young goat kid just knows where to find its mother’s milk.

Farming requires us to use every sense in our bodies. I had to pay attention to weather patterns and temperatures. Staying connected to nature and life cycles is not optional, it is mandatory. My mind tends to do a lot more unnecessary wandering when I am not in the present moment which farming demands.

These last four months were like a test. If I truly want to be a farmer, then I will struggle with not working on a farm for an extended period of time. I remember a friend of mine mentioning how much she missed working the land in February. She had rested, played, caught up with friends and family, and was ready to start another season. Likewise, by mid March, I felt like something crucial was missing from my life.

My situation is a little different because I did some farm work in Argentina where it was summer, so no more than a month had passed since I left the goat farm. Suddenly I was harvesting raspberries and weeding lettuce in February, how bizarre.

I truly miss farming. I miss the long days, bending over to weed rows, hoeing until my neck is sore, squishing potato beetles and tomato horn worms (or throwing them in the brook), shoveling manure, forking hay to the goats, driving a tractor, dumping heavy buckets of milk, getting dirt stuck under my nails and in the cracks of my hands, feeling utterly exhausted by dinner time, eating leftovers, reading a paragraph of a good book, falling asleep, and waking up to do it all over again.

It sure feels good to know what I want in life!

Finally, the farming season will begin again for me in a few days at Old Friends Farm in Amherst. In order to get my fix of agrarian living this April, I have been tending my folk’s garden in the back yard and visiting friends who live and work on farms. The spinach and salad greens are up, despite the dog’s foot print evidence of numerous visits to the compost pile, which is behind where I planted the greens leaving one inch deep tracks in my planting. I planted a row of peas, collards, and beets a few days ago. The kale starts love the warmth of my upstairs bedroom. Soon basil and parsley will show their little cotyledons in my other tray.

It is a very small scale here at the Jacobson-Hardy residence, but it sure feels good to dig ‘til my back hurts and make plans for the new blueberry, raspberry, and asparagus plants. We’ll see how much motivation and time I will have to weed the home garden come June, but who cares when it’s so enjoyable just to be outside, listening to the birds singing in agreement about how happy we all are that spring has arrived. That’s the difference between home gardening and crop production. If all else fails, at least we’ll have some nice flowering weeds along with the reliable poppies and black eyed Susan’s.