Yesterday was Wednesday, which meant Farmer's Market. Well, if you aren't currently living in the state of Wisconsin, let me update you on our current weather. Yesterday, was record breaking heat - 101 degrees, with a heat index over 110 degrees! That is hot...and humid. Standing outside in the heat from 2:00-9:00 isn't exactly a blast, especially when the farmer's market was so slow, that time was crawling. People were not out and about, so the market was not that successful. That makes time move very slowly, and I was continually drinking water/rubbing a cold-wash cloth on my neck and arms.
When I got home from the market, things were going great. Luke and I sat on the tail-gate of the truck, had a beer, played Frisbee with Tobshu, and just talked. About a week ago, I had asked Luke to treat me more like his wife and less like his employee, and he has been doing a great job at that in the past few days. It was a really gorgeous night, a little cooler and less humid. I was in a pretty good mood, even though the market wasn't that great.
Well, then I walked in my house to get another drink. I noticed, it smelt a little funny, like dog poop. My stomach instantly dropped. Tobshu needs to be locked up from 2:00-9:00 on market days but we allow him to roam the house. But, he is always fine, and typically just eats his bone that we give him and sleeps, typically on our couch. He has never had an accident before.
Well, I'm slowly and carefully searching my house for what I don't want to find, and trying to protect my feet from finding it as well. I searched the kitchen, the dining room, the bathroom, the hallway. All in the hopes that he had his accident on the wood floor - much easier to clean up. Every step of checking the hardwood, I was getting more worried. I headed toward the carpeted living room, and turned on the light. My heart sunk, it wasn't pretty.
Poor Tobshu didn't just have one accident, he had four. And, he wasn't feeling well, if that should give you an insight into consistency. I won't go into more details than that.
I turned around and walked right back outside, longing to just be able to sit on the tailgate and finish my drink. Instead, I went into the wash shack and grabbed two pairs of latex gloves. Luke inquired what I was doing, and I just told him to follow me. He was puzzled, but followed me into the house, and said, what stinks? I showed him the living room, and he, in his ingenious husband nature, said "Oh boy, that's terrible. I need to finish unloading the produce from the truck, sorry sweetie." And then he Bolted! Ugghh.
Well, needless to say, I was scrubbing and spraying and carpet cleaning for over an hour, with breaks to search my house for as many candles and incense as I could find, and light those. My house now smells like a blend of fruit, apple pie, sage, and rosemary incense. It is odd, but better than the alternative. The carpet looks pretty good, I can't really see the spots, but this morning there was a faint smell (that I may have imagined, but it was real for me). I looked at the four spots that I had scrubbed for over an hour, and thought to myself this morning:
"Luke and I lay on the floor all the time. I don't think I can ever do that again now." Well, that is being a little dramatic, but I did go ahead and make an appointment with Stanley Steemer Carpet Cleaners for tomorrow :) Terry and Dave (our parents but also our landlords) I am sure you are happy to hear that! Looks like I will be lugging furniture out of my living room tonight. But, I guess I could look at the bright side - it gives me a perfect excuse to rearrange the living room.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Good-bye New Friend....a Moral dilemma
When I first started this blog, I imagined it being an outlet of laughter and a positive spin on things. So, in the past week, I kept looking for goofy occurrences or life lessons to blog about. Well, I don't have a happy tale today, but I need to write about it to get it off my chest...so sorry for the sadness.
Let me first say that to me, pets aren't just animals, they are friends and family. They latch on to your heart and leave permanent marks there. Well, Remember awhile back when I told you about the kitten that showed up and that we named "Kat." Well, I have never been a "cat" person - I have always found them sneaky and mischievous and just not a real pet. But, I grew to love Kat. She was such an awesome kitten from day one. The first day I met her, I was walking home from the neighbors (aka, our grandparents), and she followed me all the way home - to get the mail, past the greenhouse, right to the doorstep. 10 feet behind me the whole way, an adorable little blonde kitten. The next day, she was still around. I took a cardboard box, laid a blanket in it, but a water-bowl near there, and picked up some cat food. She stuck around, for days. She took to sleeping on our porch. I loved it. I would get home, and little Kat would be lying on our doorstep, ready to greet me. She even learned her name - I would call her from the pergola and she would come running over, and I would pet her belly, and she would purr and purr. She was the sweetest cat. She is the sweetest cat. That is what makes this post very difficult to write. Luke and I both loved her - she would come over to the greenhouse, or wherever you were, and she would plop on her belly and just want some petting. She even held her own with Toby - scaring him away in the beginning. But then, one day, Toby and Kat laid about 1 foot apart, just looking at each other, content, as if they both knew that this was home for each other.
Kat had a bad leg in the beginning, but it seemed to be getting better. Yesterday, I woke up and walked outside to feed Kat. She normally always came right up to me, let me pet her, and then she would eat right away. Sometimes, she would even try to sneak in the house. Yesterday, something was different. Kat was barely breathing, and she wouldn't get up. She had a couple flies on her leg, and she just didn't look well. I started crying right away, and called Luke out. Luke didn't think she looked good either, but didn't want to give up on her. We gave her fresh water and petted her, but her purr was different, it was sad and painful. I knew then, she probably wasn't going to make it. But then the moral dilemma, do you let it happen naturally, or do you stop her pain? Luke and I thought it might just be the heat, so we moved her more in the shade, and just let her be. She never moved to the porch, she didn't move much at all. She made it through the night, and when I checked on her before I went to bed, she was grooming herself. I got so excited - I thought that meant she was getting better.
This morning, Kat was back to looking like she did yesterday. I have a hard time looking at her because I know she is hurting, but I can't bring myself to be the one to end her pain, and I just can't ask Luke to do it either. There is this hopeful part of me that keeps saying it is just the heat, that she will be back on the porch, purring in the morning. But, I'm lying to myself. Her leg is much worse, I think it is infected. And it is wrong for her to suffer for more days. Her breathing is fast and shallow, and when I look at her, I cry. It is a true moral dilemma with pets....keeping them alive because you are hopeful, or selfish? Am I keeping her here for me, so that I can see her on the porch or hunting in the landscaping? Deep down, I know it isn't fair anymore - she is barely moving, barely breathing. My grandma, aunts, and mom, all veteran farm girls, all said that when it is an outdoor cat, you can't treat it like a pet - they lead a different life and you have to adjust to seeing them come and go. But to me, Kat was the best cat I've ever met, and it is so hard to say good-bye. I will miss my new pet dearly, and the porch will look barren for days to come. As I wipe my eyes and finish this post, I am still hopeful that Kat will make a rapid recovery, and I will see her hunting bugs in the flowers in the morning, but deep down, I know it isn't true. She was a good cat. Good-bye Kat - I have loved you.
Kat had a bad leg in the beginning, but it seemed to be getting better. Yesterday, I woke up and walked outside to feed Kat. She normally always came right up to me, let me pet her, and then she would eat right away. Sometimes, she would even try to sneak in the house. Yesterday, something was different. Kat was barely breathing, and she wouldn't get up. She had a couple flies on her leg, and she just didn't look well. I started crying right away, and called Luke out. Luke didn't think she looked good either, but didn't want to give up on her. We gave her fresh water and petted her, but her purr was different, it was sad and painful. I knew then, she probably wasn't going to make it. But then the moral dilemma, do you let it happen naturally, or do you stop her pain? Luke and I thought it might just be the heat, so we moved her more in the shade, and just let her be. She never moved to the porch, she didn't move much at all. She made it through the night, and when I checked on her before I went to bed, she was grooming herself. I got so excited - I thought that meant she was getting better.
This morning, Kat was back to looking like she did yesterday. I have a hard time looking at her because I know she is hurting, but I can't bring myself to be the one to end her pain, and I just can't ask Luke to do it either. There is this hopeful part of me that keeps saying it is just the heat, that she will be back on the porch, purring in the morning. But, I'm lying to myself. Her leg is much worse, I think it is infected. And it is wrong for her to suffer for more days. Her breathing is fast and shallow, and when I look at her, I cry. It is a true moral dilemma with pets....keeping them alive because you are hopeful, or selfish? Am I keeping her here for me, so that I can see her on the porch or hunting in the landscaping? Deep down, I know it isn't fair anymore - she is barely moving, barely breathing. My grandma, aunts, and mom, all veteran farm girls, all said that when it is an outdoor cat, you can't treat it like a pet - they lead a different life and you have to adjust to seeing them come and go. But to me, Kat was the best cat I've ever met, and it is so hard to say good-bye. I will miss my new pet dearly, and the porch will look barren for days to come. As I wipe my eyes and finish this post, I am still hopeful that Kat will make a rapid recovery, and I will see her hunting bugs in the flowers in the morning, but deep down, I know it isn't true. She was a good cat. Good-bye Kat - I have loved you.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Welcome to Thistleville, USA
It was a big day today! After summer school, we were having a pick-up for the chickens that we butchered. Since I had to be outside and watch for people to come, I decided to work on our landscaping. I weeded for an hour, and then laid rocks in front of the woodchips, and it looks awesome. Then Luke made a so-called "simple" request - he was busy preparing for the CSA deliveries tomorrow, and he was wondering if I could pick the raspberries.
Our raspberry patch was decent last year, about two 50-foot rows, and we got a lot of berries off of them. But, if you recall last year, the rain was ridiculous, and we lost most of our patch to the rain and floods. Such a bummer! Well, Luke thought we only had a few bushes to pick - and we did. I only got 2.5 pints worth, but it was brutal. I think the only reason Luke asked me to pick them was because I'm the only person who can't just up and quit like his employees and volunteers. Seriously, the thistles were EVERYWHERE!
My first encounter with the first thistle in the patch may be funny to you, but it was quite uncomfortable for me. I leaned forward to pick a raspberry that was a little further away, and I was trying to be so careful to not get my hand prickled from the raspberry bush. Well, in my reach, I got a little unbalanced, and I started tipping forward. I really didn't want to fall onto the raspberry bush, because they have little thorns on them. So, I overcompensated, and boy did I pay for it! I tipped backwards, and my butt landed right on top of a thistle! OUCH! I felt like the hyenas in "The Lion King" when they jump into the thistle patch. I leaped up so high, and yelled out a few harsh words. Then, I looked ahead of me and saw that the whole patch was surrounded in thistles. Even when I would be extra careful to avoid them, one would rub on my leg, or I would reach for a raspberry in the middle of the plant, only to find there was a hidden thistle in there. It was ridiculous - I felt like I was at a hospital - getting pricked and prodded over and over again. I may need to ice my butt, or at least use a tweezers to pick the thorns out.
Luke will probably be picking those on his own from now on....
Our raspberry patch was decent last year, about two 50-foot rows, and we got a lot of berries off of them. But, if you recall last year, the rain was ridiculous, and we lost most of our patch to the rain and floods. Such a bummer! Well, Luke thought we only had a few bushes to pick - and we did. I only got 2.5 pints worth, but it was brutal. I think the only reason Luke asked me to pick them was because I'm the only person who can't just up and quit like his employees and volunteers. Seriously, the thistles were EVERYWHERE!
My first encounter with the first thistle in the patch may be funny to you, but it was quite uncomfortable for me. I leaned forward to pick a raspberry that was a little further away, and I was trying to be so careful to not get my hand prickled from the raspberry bush. Well, in my reach, I got a little unbalanced, and I started tipping forward. I really didn't want to fall onto the raspberry bush, because they have little thorns on them. So, I overcompensated, and boy did I pay for it! I tipped backwards, and my butt landed right on top of a thistle! OUCH! I felt like the hyenas in "The Lion King" when they jump into the thistle patch. I leaped up so high, and yelled out a few harsh words. Then, I looked ahead of me and saw that the whole patch was surrounded in thistles. Even when I would be extra careful to avoid them, one would rub on my leg, or I would reach for a raspberry in the middle of the plant, only to find there was a hidden thistle in there. It was ridiculous - I felt like I was at a hospital - getting pricked and prodded over and over again. I may need to ice my butt, or at least use a tweezers to pick the thorns out.
Luke will probably be picking those on his own from now on....
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Goodbye Chickens, Hello Life (and fridge)
We are done! All the chickens are butchered and froze! We can now leave our house for more than 3 hours at a time without finding a babysitter (not for a kid that I didn't tell you about - but for the chickens)!! It is just so exciting - who knew that those birds could control our life as much as they did?! Chicken butchering went well - we had a good team of helpers with Luke's dad and grandparents. I would clean up any remnant feathers and remove the legs, and Luke's dad and grandma did the rest (I won't share the nitty gritty details). We had it worked out to a pretty smooth process. EXCEPT...I had to spray down each chicken with the hose, and I always felt like chicken juices were ricocheting into my face, yuck! But, for the most part, it felt good to be a part of it, and know that we raised healthy chickens with no added hormones, and that they had a good life before they died (unlike most conventional chickens). And, I even got to put my biology skills to the test an identify some chicken anatomy :) Too bad I couldn't preserve some specimens for class. Little things like this excite me! But, they were all butchered, so it was time to celebrate.
Luke and I like to keep a pretty tight budget - it helps us save up money and make sure we aren't spending money unnecessarily. I was so excited to say goodbye to the last chicken that I drove straight to the local grocery store and spent $60 on beer and liquor! We threw ourselves a spontaneous "Yay, the chickens are gone" party - and it was a good time! Now that our chicken adventure is over, I wonder what exciting things are to come!
I know what else is getting easier - we are just a few days away from having a walk-in cooler all installed! It is all built - now it just needs to get hooked up to electricity. Exciting things at Twin Elm Gardens. Now if only the stupid mosquitoes would go away. 22 bites later and it was time to put out the campfire (I didn't actually count the bites - but that feels pretty accurate. Time for some much needed sleep....
Luke and I like to keep a pretty tight budget - it helps us save up money and make sure we aren't spending money unnecessarily. I was so excited to say goodbye to the last chicken that I drove straight to the local grocery store and spent $60 on beer and liquor! We threw ourselves a spontaneous "Yay, the chickens are gone" party - and it was a good time! Now that our chicken adventure is over, I wonder what exciting things are to come!
I know what else is getting easier - we are just a few days away from having a walk-in cooler all installed! It is all built - now it just needs to get hooked up to electricity. Exciting things at Twin Elm Gardens. Now if only the stupid mosquitoes would go away. 22 bites later and it was time to put out the campfire (I didn't actually count the bites - but that feels pretty accurate. Time for some much needed sleep....
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Can a girl get a foot massage please?
I'm exhausted...long day today. It is a sad thing when I sent my alarm for 5 am just so I know I can get my dishes done before the day starts. If you plan on making a surprise visit to my house any time soon, do me a favor and don't make it this week....it isn't pretty. We had a great night at Farmer's Market though - it was a beautiful evening and there were so many people out and about. I thoroughly enjoy running in to so many people that I know from my past, and meeting new people. Although, I did definitely ask a guy how his business was doing, only to find out it was the wrong guy. He seemed a little offended... Oops...hopefully he still comes back next week! :)
We did pretty good at market, I'm always hopeful we will sell out. Not just because I'm a greedy gold-digger either (cause I'm not, I mean honestly, I am a teacher and I married a farmer) No, I'm hopeful we sell out because, if not....I have to hull and clean the strawberries, or process tomatoes, or freeze broccoli, or take care of whatever left-over vegetable that the CSA won't get. The less we sell, the more work I have. I suppose I could just compost it, or donate it to a food pantry, but we (well, more Luke) like to maximize our food production. So if we don't sell it, we can freeze it or can it, and then sell it in the winter. It really is good for our business, but it makes me quite tired at the end of a market day.
Plus, I made a BIG mistake today. Seriously, I may permanently have flat-feet because of it. I was teaching summer school until 1:30, and needed to leave by 2:00 for market. Well, I was in a rush to exercise my dog (by quickly biking around the Christmas Tree farm and exhausting him as he tries to keep up), water the greenhouse and the seedlings, and then take care of the chickens. When I got home, I thought, "I must change my shoes before market." Well, I was in such a rush, I totally forgot! Having the hose-head break off and explode water all over me didn't do much for my memory. I simply hopped in the car and left, and it wasn't until I walked to our stand that I realized what was on my feet. I was wearing flip-flops that have essentially, a card-board (or plywood) bottom. My feet hate me now - they hate me so much that my toes are actually tingling with anger. That isn't a metaphor either - my pinky toes are literally numb, and seem to have a permanent crease in the bottom. Oh well, my toes were never that cute, but still! Standing on card-board and concrete for 5 hours really wears our the tootsies. At around 7:00, in an act of desperation, I put down a no-slip pad that we use for our coolers to try to give some cushion. It didn't help, I might as well been standing on glass. I'll be paying for this one for a few days. That's what you get when you rush so much you don't stop to think.
I better head out - I need to cut the tops off the 10 pints of strawberries that we didn't sell. Night everyone :)
We did pretty good at market, I'm always hopeful we will sell out. Not just because I'm a greedy gold-digger either (cause I'm not, I mean honestly, I am a teacher and I married a farmer) No, I'm hopeful we sell out because, if not....I have to hull and clean the strawberries, or process tomatoes, or freeze broccoli, or take care of whatever left-over vegetable that the CSA won't get. The less we sell, the more work I have. I suppose I could just compost it, or donate it to a food pantry, but we (well, more Luke) like to maximize our food production. So if we don't sell it, we can freeze it or can it, and then sell it in the winter. It really is good for our business, but it makes me quite tired at the end of a market day.
Plus, I made a BIG mistake today. Seriously, I may permanently have flat-feet because of it. I was teaching summer school until 1:30, and needed to leave by 2:00 for market. Well, I was in a rush to exercise my dog (by quickly biking around the Christmas Tree farm and exhausting him as he tries to keep up), water the greenhouse and the seedlings, and then take care of the chickens. When I got home, I thought, "I must change my shoes before market." Well, I was in such a rush, I totally forgot! Having the hose-head break off and explode water all over me didn't do much for my memory. I simply hopped in the car and left, and it wasn't until I walked to our stand that I realized what was on my feet. I was wearing flip-flops that have essentially, a card-board (or plywood) bottom. My feet hate me now - they hate me so much that my toes are actually tingling with anger. That isn't a metaphor either - my pinky toes are literally numb, and seem to have a permanent crease in the bottom. Oh well, my toes were never that cute, but still! Standing on card-board and concrete for 5 hours really wears our the tootsies. At around 7:00, in an act of desperation, I put down a no-slip pad that we use for our coolers to try to give some cushion. It didn't help, I might as well been standing on glass. I'll be paying for this one for a few days. That's what you get when you rush so much you don't stop to think.
I better head out - I need to cut the tops off the 10 pints of strawberries that we didn't sell. Night everyone :)
Monday, July 4, 2011
Farming isn't a job, it's a lifestyle.
I'm a teacher, and while I wouldn't say that I have the summers off from teaching, I do have a lot more free time to dedicate to the farm and to my house. Well, I also look forward to spending more time with my husband, but summer is his busy season. Last week, I was getting stressed out that we weren't spending much quality time together. Sure, you are sitting there thinking, they are both home all day, how are they not together? Well, Luke may come in for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but then its back to the fields, the greenhouse, the wash shack. It was a crazy week, and he was working every night until after 10. Meanwhile, I was helping him out, while working around the house and making dinner, and like a true woman would, I began to feel... under-appreciated.
What made me feel this way? Well, you see...I must take you back...back to Tuesday. Ooohhh, the wretched Tuesday of last week. I was going to help Luke out by doing the CSA deliveries. Well, we have 24 customers, and the only way to get all the bags to fit is to take his car...a stick-shift. Now, I do okay with his car, but deliveries means a lot of stop and go, a lot of reverse, and a lot of first gear (my worst gear, by a mile). I started off strong! I was so proud. Then, I even crossed the highway - something I have feared since I started to drive the car (my imagination said I would stall in the middle, and then...you can figure the rest out). I was feeling great.
Until I hit the hill. One of our customers has a bendy twisty driveway that you have to reverse out of, because there is no way to turn around. As you reverse out of the driveway, you enter the road...a RIDICULOUSLY STEEP hill! It was my fear, seriously. Well, I said to myself, "I've been nailing this all day - I can handle this hill." I put the car in first, and I began to go forward. No snubbing, just solid movement. I was so proud, I made a lil cheer! Then, over-ambitiously, I put it into second. But it was tooo soon!!!! The car snubbed, and began rolling down, down, down. I put the brakes on, I started the car, I took my foot off the brake, started to roll backward, so then I panicked, and...car snubbed. Try again, try again! Snub again, snub again. I said a few really nasty expletives, put the car in neutral, and let the stupid thing roll all the way to the bottom of the hill. Pathetic, but I was on flat ground and could take off no problem. The deliveries were almost done, but I was pissed! I was so angry I couldn't concentrate, and that poor little car - grinding gears, snubbing in every driveway. By the time I got back to our house, I was FREAKING out. Luke, not knowing the hell I had been through, just said, "Great, your home, what's for dinner?" Needless to say, I stormed into the house, and here ends step one towards my under-appreciated feeling.
Step 2: The Farmer's Market. Luke needed to leave the Farmer's Market early to pick up more chicken feed, so I said I would pack up and bring everything back. I gave him my car key's and he headed out. An hour later, market ended, I loaded the truck, and I was ready to go. Turn the ignition...NO KEY! I had given him my keys but he forgot to give me his. I was trapped, in the middle of the road, with no where to go. I couldn't leave the truck, because I couldn't close the windows so everything was vulnerable to be taken. I just had to sit there and hope that they didn't open the street up. I just kept imagining myself, sitting on a dark street, with flashers on, either being mugged or rear-ended. (The more you read this blog, the more you will realize my imagination is insane!!!!!!) Luke was still getting chicken-feed and couldn't be back for an hour. But, father-in-law to the rescue, Dave brought me a new key in 45 minutes and I was on my way. Luke did feel awful, he apologized like 100 times. But, when I got home, it's not like we could sit down and just relax and de-stress, he needed to unload the vehicle and finish up outside. I just wanted some time together, which led me to feel more under-appreciated.
Well, by Friday the week had been so busy and we had spent less than an hour in the same room (besides sleeping), that I got in a little tizzy. I told Luke that just because his work was at home, didn't mean he could work all the time. I said he needed to "Separate work from home." My wise husband just let me be for a little - that cooling off factor is a good thing. When we got home from our friends that night (that unexpected visit I told you about earlier), Luke said to me, "Mel, farming isn't work, it's a lifestyle. Just because we had fun with Sam doesn't mean that right now (At midnight) I don't have to go close the chicken coop, close-up the greenhouse and check on sprouts. I don't want to work, but this isn't just work, it is a lifestyle."
This may not be revolutionary for you, it may not even be applicable, but it was a big deal for me to figure out. It put things in perspective. Farming isn't a job that you leave at 5:00 on Friday and pick-up on Monday morning. It is non-stop, every day. If you leave the potato bugs until Monday, you can kiss your potato crop goodbye. So, farming isn't work, but a lifestyle. And it is a truly wonderful lifestyle, especially if you like to be kept on your toes.
What made me feel this way? Well, you see...I must take you back...back to Tuesday. Ooohhh, the wretched Tuesday of last week. I was going to help Luke out by doing the CSA deliveries. Well, we have 24 customers, and the only way to get all the bags to fit is to take his car...a stick-shift. Now, I do okay with his car, but deliveries means a lot of stop and go, a lot of reverse, and a lot of first gear (my worst gear, by a mile). I started off strong! I was so proud. Then, I even crossed the highway - something I have feared since I started to drive the car (my imagination said I would stall in the middle, and then...you can figure the rest out). I was feeling great.
Until I hit the hill. One of our customers has a bendy twisty driveway that you have to reverse out of, because there is no way to turn around. As you reverse out of the driveway, you enter the road...a RIDICULOUSLY STEEP hill! It was my fear, seriously. Well, I said to myself, "I've been nailing this all day - I can handle this hill." I put the car in first, and I began to go forward. No snubbing, just solid movement. I was so proud, I made a lil cheer! Then, over-ambitiously, I put it into second. But it was tooo soon!!!! The car snubbed, and began rolling down, down, down. I put the brakes on, I started the car, I took my foot off the brake, started to roll backward, so then I panicked, and...car snubbed. Try again, try again! Snub again, snub again. I said a few really nasty expletives, put the car in neutral, and let the stupid thing roll all the way to the bottom of the hill. Pathetic, but I was on flat ground and could take off no problem. The deliveries were almost done, but I was pissed! I was so angry I couldn't concentrate, and that poor little car - grinding gears, snubbing in every driveway. By the time I got back to our house, I was FREAKING out. Luke, not knowing the hell I had been through, just said, "Great, your home, what's for dinner?" Needless to say, I stormed into the house, and here ends step one towards my under-appreciated feeling.
Step 2: The Farmer's Market. Luke needed to leave the Farmer's Market early to pick up more chicken feed, so I said I would pack up and bring everything back. I gave him my car key's and he headed out. An hour later, market ended, I loaded the truck, and I was ready to go. Turn the ignition...NO KEY! I had given him my keys but he forgot to give me his. I was trapped, in the middle of the road, with no where to go. I couldn't leave the truck, because I couldn't close the windows so everything was vulnerable to be taken. I just had to sit there and hope that they didn't open the street up. I just kept imagining myself, sitting on a dark street, with flashers on, either being mugged or rear-ended. (The more you read this blog, the more you will realize my imagination is insane!!!!!!) Luke was still getting chicken-feed and couldn't be back for an hour. But, father-in-law to the rescue, Dave brought me a new key in 45 minutes and I was on my way. Luke did feel awful, he apologized like 100 times. But, when I got home, it's not like we could sit down and just relax and de-stress, he needed to unload the vehicle and finish up outside. I just wanted some time together, which led me to feel more under-appreciated.
Well, by Friday the week had been so busy and we had spent less than an hour in the same room (besides sleeping), that I got in a little tizzy. I told Luke that just because his work was at home, didn't mean he could work all the time. I said he needed to "Separate work from home." My wise husband just let me be for a little - that cooling off factor is a good thing. When we got home from our friends that night (that unexpected visit I told you about earlier), Luke said to me, "Mel, farming isn't work, it's a lifestyle. Just because we had fun with Sam doesn't mean that right now (At midnight) I don't have to go close the chicken coop, close-up the greenhouse and check on sprouts. I don't want to work, but this isn't just work, it is a lifestyle."
This may not be revolutionary for you, it may not even be applicable, but it was a big deal for me to figure out. It put things in perspective. Farming isn't a job that you leave at 5:00 on Friday and pick-up on Monday morning. It is non-stop, every day. If you leave the potato bugs until Monday, you can kiss your potato crop goodbye. So, farming isn't work, but a lifestyle. And it is a truly wonderful lifestyle, especially if you like to be kept on your toes.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
A Trip to the Mailbox is Never Just a Trip to the Mailbox
(First of all, make sure you start with the first post - that gives the initial set-up). Okay, so I said my second post was going to be "Farming isn't a job, it's a lifestyle," That post is still going to happen, I have a lot of great ideas for it. But I can't have just finished with this incredibly crazy day and not write about it. We had a great friend return from Argentina yesterday, and visiting with him shifted our schedule. The work won't wait until Monday - it is there, when you get home. We needed to plant sprouts today instead of on our typical Friday. I told Luke I would help him out by washing all the sprout trays for him. Washing trays isn't an easy job, they need to be thoroughly washed and then sanitized to meet the requirements of planting sprouts. So, 2.5 hours later, I was feeling good about being done. Luke was going to finish up with his work and then be able to plant his sprouts, and then we could start focusing on our day up north. Well, things are never as they seem. I started my blog, and then decided to take Tobshu on a trip to the mailbox to get the mail. Well, a trip to the mailbox is never just a trip to the mailbox. Not on a farm anyway...and so the chaos ensues.
On my way to the mailbox, Tobshu (the loyal farm dog of Twin Elm Gardens) decided to take a joy ride through the Christmas trees. After finally attracting his attention and getting him to run up the house, he noticed our new yard cat, that we so fitfully named Kat. Now don't go thinking that my husband and I aren't creative people - the cat is named Katherine, we just call her Kat for short. You won't get it until you meet her; my mom thought it was a terrible name, but after seeing Kat, she realized it was perfect - it fits. Tobshu and Kat decided to get in a fight. During this time, I noticed 6 chickens had escaped from our fence! And oh boy, Tobshu loves chickens more then cats. I quickly got him in the house, and preceded to chase chickens around for 10 minutes to get them back in the pin. Catching a chicken isn't easy, you can run around in circles forever and still not catch the damn thing. They are quick, and you can't hesitate. Just go and grab. If you ever want to experience it, just let me know - chicken chasing is a regular thing around here (One of my favorite days was when Luke chased a chicken around a Christmas tree for 5 minutes - both of them just running perfect circles).
Well, then I decided I should transfer the new berries from their freezer trays to bags. I noticed that the freezer was much warmer than it should be - definitely not 0 degrees. The freezer wan't working! Mind you, we had just butchered 40 chickens 2 days ago that were sitting in the freezer! Fortunately, I had found it very quickly after it happened, and every chicken was still frozen solid. Phew. But what chaos. We checked all the other fridges, and it turned out they weren't working either! We had to transfer all the veggies and strawberries to our fridge and our grandparent's fridges. It was chaos, literally. Moving boxes everywhere, and lots of stress. Also, a thrown PVC pipe, but if you weren't here, you wouldn't understand how we almost lost a few thousands of dollars with of food because the fridges decided to shut down. Fortunately, my parents showed up, and in their unending support, preceded to help us out for the next 4 hours. Food safe, strawberries cleaned and froze, sprouts water, sprouts planted, raised beds watered, greenhouse watered, potato bugs picked, and another chicken butchered. Wow... I thought we were going to have a relaxing evening, and we worked our little butts off until 10 pm.
Alas, where my rambling all points to: things are never as they seem on a farm. It may seem like an easy day and that relaxation is right around the corner, but the work doesn't stop and new things constantly arise. A person needs to be flexible, because being static means panic. If you aren't willing to work with what you are given, then you won't make it through your day. Also, count your blessings - because even if it seems like everything is crumbling around you, you still got a lot going for you. That is what I was trying to remind my husband as he picked up the PVC pipe and chucked it 50 feet into the air. Sometimes the stress does overcome, but hey, just another day on the farm.
On my way to the mailbox, Tobshu (the loyal farm dog of Twin Elm Gardens) decided to take a joy ride through the Christmas trees. After finally attracting his attention and getting him to run up the house, he noticed our new yard cat, that we so fitfully named Kat. Now don't go thinking that my husband and I aren't creative people - the cat is named Katherine, we just call her Kat for short. You won't get it until you meet her; my mom thought it was a terrible name, but after seeing Kat, she realized it was perfect - it fits. Tobshu and Kat decided to get in a fight. During this time, I noticed 6 chickens had escaped from our fence! And oh boy, Tobshu loves chickens more then cats. I quickly got him in the house, and preceded to chase chickens around for 10 minutes to get them back in the pin. Catching a chicken isn't easy, you can run around in circles forever and still not catch the damn thing. They are quick, and you can't hesitate. Just go and grab. If you ever want to experience it, just let me know - chicken chasing is a regular thing around here (One of my favorite days was when Luke chased a chicken around a Christmas tree for 5 minutes - both of them just running perfect circles).
Well, then I decided I should transfer the new berries from their freezer trays to bags. I noticed that the freezer was much warmer than it should be - definitely not 0 degrees. The freezer wan't working! Mind you, we had just butchered 40 chickens 2 days ago that were sitting in the freezer! Fortunately, I had found it very quickly after it happened, and every chicken was still frozen solid. Phew. But what chaos. We checked all the other fridges, and it turned out they weren't working either! We had to transfer all the veggies and strawberries to our fridge and our grandparent's fridges. It was chaos, literally. Moving boxes everywhere, and lots of stress. Also, a thrown PVC pipe, but if you weren't here, you wouldn't understand how we almost lost a few thousands of dollars with of food because the fridges decided to shut down. Fortunately, my parents showed up, and in their unending support, preceded to help us out for the next 4 hours. Food safe, strawberries cleaned and froze, sprouts water, sprouts planted, raised beds watered, greenhouse watered, potato bugs picked, and another chicken butchered. Wow... I thought we were going to have a relaxing evening, and we worked our little butts off until 10 pm.
Alas, where my rambling all points to: things are never as they seem on a farm. It may seem like an easy day and that relaxation is right around the corner, but the work doesn't stop and new things constantly arise. A person needs to be flexible, because being static means panic. If you aren't willing to work with what you are given, then you won't make it through your day. Also, count your blessings - because even if it seems like everything is crumbling around you, you still got a lot going for you. That is what I was trying to remind my husband as he picked up the PVC pipe and chucked it 50 feet into the air. Sometimes the stress does overcome, but hey, just another day on the farm.
Let's Begin with Introductions
I must say, I never imagined that I would be married to a farmer, live on a big farm, know how to drive a Ford 9n tractor, and practice the art of butchering chickens. But alas, this is the twist my life has taken. And oh, what a twist. It has been a roller coaster ride, but I love it. I have also come to realize that I have learned (and will likely continue to learn) a lot of life lessons in the process, and it would be shame, in my opinion, not to share them. So, for the few family members and friends I sent this link to, enjoy the wisdom. Haha, okay, I have learned that you gotta dream big and that your mind has power, and I am going to believe that some day thousands will tune into this little blog of mine :)
I guess I must start by saying that farming comes with stress, a lot of it. It is hard on my husband, and it is hard on me. Because of this, many of my life lessons have arrived through arguments and mishaps. So I will preface everything by saying that although I may have learned many lessons through my husband and my arguments, and thus you will learn about those arguments, I need to tell you that my husband is the most amazing man I know, and I fall more in love with him every day. So even though we get into silly little quarrels, don't go thinking we are a crazy couple that drives each other nuts- the rough times are all surrounded by love and blessings.
So, the farm. My husband started Twin Elm Gardens 3 years ago, and it is a growing, prospering business. It started small, with a farmer's market and 8 CSA (community supported agriculture) customers. In just 3 years, we have grown to serve 48 CSA customers, have a full-time employee, sell to many of the top restaurants in Green Bay, and have a loyal following at the farmer's market. We are growing fast, and it is amazing. But with size comes responsibility. We have customers that want our food, and we need to get it to them. Thus, the stress. But it is a beautiful life, where coincidences happen all the time, I meet and interact with so many people, and I feel at home.
I am not naive enough to believe I have wisdom beyond others, or that any thing of what I say is mind blowing. But I have learned that as people grow, they spread, over a country, around the world. Though I may only live 15 minutes from where I grew up, I will still be a person who grows and spreads. And to do that, I am going to share my knowledge. Plus, I do plan on writing a book in the near future, and this is good practice for my writing skills. Please share your thoughts, and look forward to the upcoming posts:
"Farming isn't a job, it's a lifestyle" and:
"The Day is determined by the weather"
I guess I must start by saying that farming comes with stress, a lot of it. It is hard on my husband, and it is hard on me. Because of this, many of my life lessons have arrived through arguments and mishaps. So I will preface everything by saying that although I may have learned many lessons through my husband and my arguments, and thus you will learn about those arguments, I need to tell you that my husband is the most amazing man I know, and I fall more in love with him every day. So even though we get into silly little quarrels, don't go thinking we are a crazy couple that drives each other nuts- the rough times are all surrounded by love and blessings.
So, the farm. My husband started Twin Elm Gardens 3 years ago, and it is a growing, prospering business. It started small, with a farmer's market and 8 CSA (community supported agriculture) customers. In just 3 years, we have grown to serve 48 CSA customers, have a full-time employee, sell to many of the top restaurants in Green Bay, and have a loyal following at the farmer's market. We are growing fast, and it is amazing. But with size comes responsibility. We have customers that want our food, and we need to get it to them. Thus, the stress. But it is a beautiful life, where coincidences happen all the time, I meet and interact with so many people, and I feel at home.
I am not naive enough to believe I have wisdom beyond others, or that any thing of what I say is mind blowing. But I have learned that as people grow, they spread, over a country, around the world. Though I may only live 15 minutes from where I grew up, I will still be a person who grows and spreads. And to do that, I am going to share my knowledge. Plus, I do plan on writing a book in the near future, and this is good practice for my writing skills. Please share your thoughts, and look forward to the upcoming posts:
"Farming isn't a job, it's a lifestyle" and:
"The Day is determined by the weather"
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