Fields and Fire

our new home

is over on the new PVHG website.  Bigger, better, and all that.  We're not here anymore - check us out here.  Really!  Come see!

the mystery hidden in the dirt

The older I get, and the more I learn about (and feel) the connectedness of all beings, the more I like my cleaning products so nontoxic that you can eat them.  Hence, this recipe I tried this weekend, from the fabulous resource Organic Housekeeping by Ellen Sandbeck.

Homemade Furniture Oil:

Mix one part lemon juice with two parts olive oil

or

one part white vinegar and three parts olive oil.

Shake vigorously, apply sparingly.  Let soak in for a few minutes, then wipe with a clean cloth. 

I had some lemons about to shrivel up in the fridge, so I did the lemon version.  Yummy!  Our table and chopping block really look gorgeous now, and I had a lot left over.  Which I may try in my hair, actually.  The one thing I love even more than edible cleaning products are multiple use edible cleaning products.  Yeah.

I got excited this weekend about our herbs, and starting harvesting and using them.  Lavender oil warming in the window, mint tea on the dinner table, red raspberry leaves and more mint in the drying rack.  I'm growing way more herbs than ever this year.  I've only ever used them in tea, but I'm really thrilled to learn more ways to use them.  I even learned that I can make sunscreen!  Yes!  I'll share the recipe (and some photos) soon.  Here is some lavender I got at the Shutesbury farmer's market for 50 cents, infusing in some olive oil in a sunny window.  This is so easy I can't believe I've never done it before.

More good news - this issue of the Small Farmer's Journal (on the counter at Wheatberry, if you want to check it out) shows a graph using data from the US Agriculture Dept census from 1992-2002.  Farms of most sizes were down, but the number of farms between 10-49 acres (what I consider a true "small farm") more than doubled.  Yes yes and yes!  Here we go, small farm revolution.  I love being part of this, part of a generation that grew up away from farms, but is learning for ourselves how to steward the land, in a "small," healthy, vibrant way.

 

 

 

Having spent the weekend enjoying the sun, a good meal with friends, and our hands in the dirt, I have been thinking a lot of this quote by Thoreau, which has been hanging above my desk since I was a teenager:

I believe in the forest, and in the meadow, and in the night in which the corn grows.

Ella and I left our dirty dishes on the counter this morning and caught a ride with friends to Lake Wyola (a vacation five minutes away, as we like to think of it).  I kept thinking of Mary Oliver, and when I got home and Ella fell asleep, I found this.  Perhaps she was thinking of Thoreau, too.

Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith
by Mary Oliver

Every summer
    I listen and look
        under the sun's brass and even
            into the moonlight, but I can't hear

anything, I can't see anything --
    not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up,
        nor the leaves
            deepening their damp pleats,

nor the tassels making,
    nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
        And still,
            every day,

the leafy fields
    grow taller and thicker --
        green gowns lofting up in the night,
            showered with silk.

And so, every summer,
    I fail as a witness, seeing nothing --
        I am deaf too
            to the tick of the leaves,

the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet --
    all of it
        happening
            beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
    Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
        Let the wind turn in the trees,
            and the mystery hidden in the dirt

swing through the air.
       How could I look at anything in this world
            and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
                What should I fear?

One morning
    in the leafy green ocean
        the honeycomb of the corn's beautiful body
            is sure to be there.

Here's to poetry, and the summer corn to come, and the sort of summer days that make you feel this is the best of all possible worlds, and worth fighting for.  Here's to a President who feels the same way.  The debate on climate change is over.  The debate on foosil fuels is over.  We must (and will) find a new, more beautiful path forward.

let the aprons begin

Soon to be seen on all staff at Wheatberry - handmade aprons!  I'm totally in love with these two fabrics (reprinted feedsack patterns, bought at the awesome Textile Company in Greenfield, MA), and finally settled on using them for my apron (modeled here by the lovely Kate).  It only took me two Ella naps to make, and today I brought in a big stack of fabric, for our staff to pick their own combos.  I've been a little afraid of my sewing machine, honestly, because I'm always a bit fearful of what I don't know how to do (mostly fearful of looking stupid - pretty funny when I'm in my sewing room all alone, huh?

Also at Wheatberry . . . sourdough crackers.  Here's Cristie rolling them out.  We literally take loaves of sourdough, roll them flat, and bake them up!  You could do this at home, if you have dough that isn't working quite right for you (bake them on a pizza stone, just be sure to preheat it really well).

More in the world of hand tools - our wheel hoe, made by Amish craftsmen.  We purchased ours from Lehman's - a very cool resource, by the way.  Ben has been really enjoying cultivating our rows with it - here, he's hilling the potatoes.

 

We've all been loving the sunshine this week, and spending as much time as we can out in the garden.  Here is Ella's chosen garden attire - if only we could all garden this way!

When we're not outside, our time is often spent like this.  I had no idea that art would be so important in our lives with our daughter, but I'm thrilled that it is.  For me, it's sparked my own creativity, and the wide-ranging styles of illustrations in children's books have loosened my ideas of what my own drawings "should" look like. 

 

I've had some trouble getting inspired to make dinner these days.  I turned to our cookbook collection for help, and picked up the fabulous Bouchon, by Thomas Keller (of French Laundry fame).  Keller is the man.  I did go to culinary school, but truly, I think I learned at least as much from The French Laundry cookbook.  So save yourself a year and $10,000!  His respect for ingredients and his precision are amazing.  Anyhow, Bouchon is the bistro Keller opened, so this cookbook is a little less truffles, a little more french onion soup.  I made this chickpea and carrot salad, slightly adapted.

 

Chickpea and Carrot Salad (adapted from Thomas Keller's Bouchon)

1/2 cup dried chickpeas, soaked in 3 cups cold water overnight

bay leaf, parsley, thyme, other herbs according to your taste

2 tbsp olive oil

2 garlic cloves, smashed

1 cup carrots (Keller juliennes these, I just sliced them in thin rounds)

1 tbsp chopped fresh parsley

1 1/2 tsp fresh lemon juice

salt to taste

Drain the chickpeas, put them in a large saucepan and add about 6 cups water, or enough to cover them by two inches.  Add the bay leaf and other herbs (except the chopped parsley) and bring to a boil.  You can also add an onion and carrot, for more flavor if you like.  Reduce the heat, simmer about 45 minutes or until tender. 

Drain chickpeas and cool.  Discard the herbs.  At this point, Keller sautes the carrots and garlic in the olive oil, then tosses them with the chickpeas.  I prefer raw carrots, so I just added everything raw.  Either way, finish by stirring everything together, salting to taste, and letting sit.  Just before serving, remove garlic cloves.  This salad keeps beautifully, and the flavors meld as it sits.   Enjoy!

do a little (sun) dance

Well, last Thursday I was so tired of chill and rain, and wet clothes mildewing on the drying rack that I finally made a fire in the woodstove, cranked up The Talking Heads, and got my boogie on with Ella.  While we can't claim full credit for the sun coming out the next day, I like to think we helped.

I don't know about you, but personally I'm totally thrilled to see the concept of CSAs spreading, and also expanding in concept (click here if you don't know what a CSA is).  We're pushing this idea forward ourselves, obviously, with Pioneer Valley Heritage Grain's CSA.  We're also personally members of a delicious meat CSA (Chesnut Farms - delicious, grass fed meat delivered frozen once a month).  And newest to me - my membership to Foxfiber Farm's wool CSA (or "sheep shares" as they call it).  Once a season, I get two skeins of yarn in the mail, in the colorway I've pre-chosen.  It's gorgeous fiber, and I love getting my yarn right here in the Valley, from such talented folks.  Wait, not folks, neighbors as Ben is reminding me over my shoulder.  And he's absolutely right.  Neighbors.

We were quite busy this weekend, waving from Roy's horse-drawn wagon in a Fourth of July parade, working on the horse stall for Cole, harvesting the last of this year's strawberries (precious!), and the first of the summer's raspberries.  Yeah!  I've been wondering, as Ella devours fistful after fistful of berries, how on earth we could satiate her berry appetite if we didn't grow our own.  We just planted two blueberry bushes, with a plan to order more late this summer.  I always flinch at the price tag at first ($35), but then I think about how much each little basket of blueberries would cost if I bought them instead.  Maybe I'm telling you something you already know (I hope so!), but until we end our culture's  ridiculous war on dandelions and obsession with lawns instead of growing food and beauty, it can't really be said too much. Not to mention that a grocery store (or even a farmer's market) doesn't look like this:

Today I proved (though it may never happen again) that it is possible to make jam alone with a two year old.  And neither of us even cried!  (Thanks once again to the Ergo and nursing, of course.)  It was fun, and I love how well we're doing with preserves so far.  Right now we're doing about a batch a week - not too shabby! 

Ben got the summer newsletter printed, so we'll post it very soon on the updated website, and we'll have hard copies at the bakery, for anyone who wants a copy to hold in their hands. 

trying to remember to be thankful

Another rainy summer day is a good day to wake up, go in for a family day at the bakery, and try to count your blessings.  Ten things I'm thankful for today:

1.The amazing children's room at the Jones Library in Amherst, with these beautiful handmade dolls watching over us all.

2.  Our new whole-system water filter at the bakery.  Yay!  No more chlorine and who knows what else, for us and all our lovely customers. 

3.  Our wonderful wwoofer Jeanine.  (By the way, I've realized that many of you probably don't know what wwoofers are!  WWOOF stands for WorldWide Oppotunities on Organic Farms.  It's basically a farm apprenticeship program.)

4.  This quote, which I spotted in the Mary Jane Butters Farmgirl book.  It's hard to muster up excitement about line-drying clothes in all this drizzle, but here you go:

"If we all used clotheslines, we could save 30 million tons of coal a year, or shut down 15 nuclear power plants.  And you don't have to wait to start.  Yours could be up by this afternoon"
-Bill McKibben, Prarie Writers Circle

5.  My girl, who loves books as much as I do.  Her rendition of "Baa Baa Black Sheep."

6.  Our new lights at the bakery, which we installed after an energy audit.  They use 1/3 the electricity, and actually produce more light!  Yeah.

7.  My new knitting project bag, bought for fifty cents at the Salvation Army in Hadley. 

8.  Our fabulous neighbor, The Claw Foot Tub.

9.  Ravelry - awesome online knitting community, lots of free patterns.  Dangerously good.

10.  All of you!  Our customers, friends, family, community.  The ones we work with and work for.