Fields and Fire

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. 

June garden

Rain rain and more . . . rain.  I'm having some deja vu of last summer, but this summer at least, we're better prepared to bring in the grain, no matter what the weather.  Ben is hard at work preparing a summer newsletter, with lots more on this, so I won't steal his thunder.  But I will tell you that Ben, farmer Adam, Seth Seeger, a metalworker, and a volunteer engineer have been very busy building a grain dryer from scratch.  Yay!

Despite the rain, and the unnervingly cool weather, the garden is moving right along. 

We've been out in the drizzle, harvesting strawberries before they dissolve, getting ready for jam-making this weekend.  I'm determined to kick serious preserving butt this year.  I'm so ready to never see the inside of a grocery store again.
We planted corn in our field at home again, since the crows ate all the little shoots last time.  A few hours later, we heard the raucous sound of . . . a pack of crows, in the corn field.  We've put out piles for them to eat, hoping that Eliot Coleman is right and crows with full bellies won't go to the trouble of digging up our corn.  Arrggg. 
It seems that nearly every week Ella still has a new first, but this is a big one, I swear.  First haircut!  I especially like how in this photo she seems to have done the haircut herself.

Our draft horse search continues.  We were very lucky this week to meet a local teamster, Roy Nilson.  He's a super sweetie and knows a lot about the horses in the area, so we're hoping this means we're closing in on ours!  After meeting Roy and two possible horses (huge Belgians), Ben was so pumped that the next day he, Seth, Cristie, and Jeanine put up fencing for the horse paddock.  One step closer.

what's cookin at Wheatberry (and birthday recap)

Starting this week, we have fresh kale chips to serve with our sandwiches at Wheatberry.  I thought I'd share the recipe.  To begin, take one toddler out to the garden fresh with some much-needed rain

Pick tender young kale leaves (or get some from your local farmer - preferably the smaller young leaves).  Spread on a baking sheet, and coat lightly with oil (about a tablespoon oil for a cup of kale) and sprinkle generously with salt (1 tsp).  Use a silpat on your baking sheet if you have one.

Bake at 350 for 5-10 minutes, checking often.  They will continue to crisp after you take them out, so just be careful not to burn them!

And voila.  Eat them up for a snack, or as a delicious (and ridiculously healthy) addition to any meal.  I made these at 8 in the morning and couldn't stop eating them. 

Also at Wheatberry these days, we are now making our own cream cheese!  Yay!  If you're wondering what the difference might be, imagine the difference between an apple pie bought at the grocery store, and one made at home.  Unless you've made it yourself, you've never tasted handmade cream cheese before (the kind at the store isn't cultured, it's thickened with guar gum and other weird industrial by-products).  So come on down and taste some real food!  We're using an adapted version of the cream cheese in Ricki Carroll's wonderful Home Cheesemaking.

In wheat news, we've just gotten word from White Oak Farm that our first harvest is only four weeks away!  So exciting!!  We're working hard to get a grain dryer and seed cleaners in place, to make sure this harvest gets done right.  Also on a grain note, we've heard from some CSA members that they would like some grain cooking classes, to prepare for their shares.  We would love to hear from more of you - do you want classes starting this summer, or would you rather wait until you have your shares?  Which grains do you most want to learn about?  You can leave comments for us right here on the blog, and then you'll get to see what your fellow CSA members are interested in, also!

And finally, the birthday recap.  I got almost all my crafting done in time.  Here's Ella's birthday banner in progress . . .

and the finished project with our new two year old!

Hope everyone had a great week, and don't forget to share your thoughts about grain cooking classes with us!  (Or any other thoughts, for that matter.)

time to get busy

The frenzy of summer is starting, at least at our farm.  It's always hard for us to remember that since we're a mere 1,000 feet higher than Amherst/Hadley, our plants get going a little slower.  We go to the farmer's market and think, "Oh no- our onions aren't that big yet!" 
But yesterday Ella and I got our first good harvest from the garden, broccoli rabe and arugula.
Which we promptly cooked up for dinner.  (How, you ask?  Why, sauteed in bacon fat and sprinkled with salt, eaten hot out of the pan with friends.)  Yum!  I love farmer's markets and CSA shares, but there is nothing as tasty and satisfying as food straight out of the garden.
This week is also Ella's 2nd birthday, so we've been busy getting ready to celebrate.  Some views from the crafting room - Ella measuring, and fat quarters lined up to be transformed into a birthday banner.
Let's hope I can get it together by Saturday!  Especially with all of Ella's, uh, helping.  Our first CSA share arrives tomorrow, from The Kitchen Garden. 

Here's a link to some great thoughts from Colin Beavin, of No Impact Man.  Always an inspiration.

Don't forget you can find more of our photos on Flickr. 

a beginning

This seems like a good place to start - building our first stone wall, to erect our first greenhouse.
With the help of a dolly, some beers, and some extra hands, Ben, Jeanine, and Estelle moved these massive rocks from an old foundation on our property to their new home here.  Now we have to fill in the smaller spots and get that greenhouse up, so we can move the tomatoes into the ground.
And here is Ella, on her first solo slide ride, a few months ago in Boston.  Just a little excited . . . More soon, tales of planting and chickens and children and crafting . . .