The Day I Saved a Mouse's Life

As you may know from previous posts, I despise mice. They really just freak me out. It might be their sneakiness, or their ability to show up just about anywhere. And yesterday, I accidentally spared the life of a mouse.

But first - for the story to make sense, I must tell you that we have baby ducks on our farm! Cute, adorable little ducklings that I whole-heartedly love!

I love these little ducklings so much that I have claimed them as my own! Luke was shocked when I said I wanted them to be my job! They are mine to raise and to take care of daily. This is pretty simple - give them food and water and change their bedding every few days. And just sit and indulge in their pure adorableness. I may regret this spontaneous decision in the winter, but for right now I am thrilled!

Yesterday I was keeping a  very close eye on my sixteen sweet little ducklings. I went inside to give Henry a snack, and I heard a cheeping, that seemed to belong to the ducks. "Oh no," I thought. "One got out!" I quickly ran outside with Henry and panicked to see that a little duckling was running in the chicken coop! Now, pecking orders are real things - chickens will peck a bird to death if it is not one of their own - their size. So I legitimately panicked, and quickly called "Help - anybody! Someone watch Henry so I can save the duck!"

The hilarious part that I then noticed, the full-grown chickens were terrified of the baby duck! The duckling was lost and therefore running all around, and the chickens were running from it, terrified! I couldn't believe this because I have watched chickens catch, and eat, mice.

Luke and Derek came to watch Henry and laugh at the site of grown chickens hiding from a duckling. I went into the coop and grabbed the little duck and returned her to her home, safe with her other ducklings.

Well, last night I was washing dishes, looking out my kitchen window which has a great view of the chicken coop and fence, and I noticed a big hub-bub among the chickens! I also heard a faint little cheeping noise! "Oh no!" Another little duckling. I sprinted outside and my fear wasn't imagined - a little duckling was hanging from a chicken's mouth, so I thought. All the other chickens were swarming the one who had it, trying to steal it away, so it was hard to get a good look. I sprinted over to the fence and scared the chickens and they released the duckling. I could see it ran under a board, but that was it.

As if that wasn't enough, our vicious hunter Murtle was right there, ready to pounce. I knew I would have to act fast before her claws caught on to my little duckling. I lifted up the board, and a MOUSE sprinted away. Ugh! I ran into the duck coop and counted - all 16 ducklings were in there, safe and huddled together under the heater. Thankful, I walked out of the coop, happy to have all 16 ducklings, but so irritated that I saved the life of a mouse. Murtle chased the mouse - I am pretty sure she wouldn't let it get away, she is a quick cat!

Farmland, Part 2: Tradition

As you recall, last week Luke and I took a little date night to see the documentary "Farmland." The documentary filled me with a sense of pride, ownership, and love that I had not felt for our farm in a long time. Why did it take a documentary about people I do not know to restore those feelings in me? Why did I lose my pride in the farm? How did this come about?

I believe the reason this all occurred was because of loneliness. Farming requires countless hours spent in the fields, in the greenhouses, in the wash shack. Luke works incredible hours. It means, for the greater part of our marriage, I have spent a lot of time alone. In the past, I would join Luke in the fields - bring him a beer and chat as the sun set around us. During the school year, I was surrounded in my own immense workload, and so times when I had to pick peppers until sunset were frustrating, but also meant time together.  I could be in the fields with Luke, or chat in the basement while he watered sprouts; it wasn't as lonely, it didn't seem so separated.

The factor that changed this year was Henry. Henry is my world, he is everything. He is my greatest blessing, my heart completed. But as far as parenting the first year, there is not a lot of give and take. Rather, it is one great give-a-thon. And I love it. But, it has caused me to be a lot more home-bound than I ever have been before. I am a social butterfly - I love to be with other people, I like to conversate and share. For me, to be tied to my home, has been difficult. This, combined with one of the worst winters, followed by one of the worst springs that I can recall, has meant that I spend a great amount of time inside with Henry, while Luke works outside. I have great conversations with Henry, but they are pretty one sided. And so I have become lonely - lonely and longing for more quality time with Luke. And this loneliness has caused me to hold a grudge against the farm. But I cannot continue having that sentiment, because our farm is truly something to treasure and love.

Farmland helped remind me that I need to take pride in our life. I wrote in my last post about the beauty of the farm, how wonderful of a place it will be to raise our children. Another great principal that "Farmland" reminded me of was tradition. That farms carry with them a great deal of familial tradition. I was reminded of that great essence of tradition today on our farm.

Luke started the produce portion of our farm, but Luke's father and grandfather started a Christmas tree farm many years ago. A farm that has provided thousands of children with smiles as they have awoken to their presents appear on Christmas morning. A farm that has allowed hundreds of families to continue their holiday tradition.

Christmas tree farms are a lot of work. The work varies throughout the year: grinding stumps in the spring, planting new seedlings, fertilizing, picking pine cones, shearing trees, and finally, preparing to give the trees their home for the holiday. Today, I was reminded of the great familial tradition of farms. Today, Luke's grandfather, grandmother, father, and Luke planted the seedlings that in 6-8 years will be lit up with both lights and with smiles on Christmas morning. Luke's mom was watching Henry while I worked, so we both arrived to the farm after the planting was already done. But, then the greatest part of the tradition occurred.

Luke's grandparents, parents, Luke and I gathered in the front yard of his grandparents. We sat on the chairs, watching the cars driving bar. We talked casually, we reflected on our days. Old-fashioneds or beers in our hands, we sat; men to the left and women on the right. Tobshu panting eagerly, playing more fetch than he had in months. And, this year, our greatest new addition - Henry, crawling on the ground, walking along the wagon, showing off his near-readiness to take his own first steps without anyone or anything helping. I sat there, listening to and partaking in the conversation, but also thinking about what a great tradition we have on our farm. A tradition that we get to share with each other, a tradition that we get to share with Henry. Farms are a beautiful place to raise a family, they are also rooted in beautiful tradition. And for that, I am also grateful.

Farmland, Part 1

I fell in love last night. With what, you might ask?

Luke and I had a date night. The fact that we went on a date during the spring is surprising - the fact that it was on a weeknight was even more surprising. What could pull Luke away from the farm you might ask? Earlier in the week I saw an ad that a documentary entitled "Farmland" would be playing for one night only at the movie theater. It seemed like something Luke would like, so I watched the trailer. The trailer made the documentary look awesome, so I asked Luke to go with me. (View the Trailer here: http://www.farmlandfilm.com/#trailer).

As Luke and I drove to the movie theater, it was quite obvious we were cutting in close on time. Running late, as usual. Why do farmers always run late???

 I said to Luke "Well, there will probably be a lot of farmers in the audience. They might as well start the movie 5 minutes late so that everyone will technically be on time." Luke chuckled, and agreed. He told me that by always running late, he was adding years to my life. I disagreed, saying the stress of perpetually running late was taking years off my life. His argument was that knowing that no matter what, we will be late, means I never have to stress about being on time. Faulty logic, but I suppose I would stress less if I didn't hold myself to the notion that being on time is incredibly important. Or, I could just do what I do now, and blame Luke!

 The documentary was excellent. The film acknowledges that farming is a relatively old profession, but yet that we need young people to return to farming to keep the farming tradition alive. The movie celebrates the work, the lives, of 6 young farmers. One thing I loved about it is that it didn't bash any type of farming. So many farming movies these days ("Food, Inc." for example) promote one side of agriculture while bashing the other. I loved that "Farmland" celebrated all types of farmers: the small-scale CSA farmer, the large- scale organic farmer, the cattle rancher, the pig farmer, the chicken farmer, the GMO cash crop farmer. It didn't push judgment against any one type. The farmers in the video even said while they prefer their own method of farming, their job is not to bash other farmers. I very much respect that and appreciated that about this documentary.

So, why did I fall in love last night? Because the video filled me with a lot of pride for the farm, pride and love that I haven't had in awhile. I have been very apathetic toward the farm in the past year. I did a lot of reflecting on that during and after the video. I could write a short novel on it - so I will spread out my digestion, and my overcoming, of my apathy over a few blog posts.

One reason the video filled me with pride was to see all the farmers and their young children (4 of the 6 farmers had little girls and boys.) To see them riding on the tractors with their dad, the love they had for the farm, to see their squeals when they opened up a toy John Deere combine for Christmas. I can already picture that for Henry. Henry loves to grab his toy tractor and push it all around our house. I can see how wonderful it will be to have Henry grow up on a farm. The smile that forms when he goes to look at the pigs running around the pasture. The manner in which the fussy boy settles down when he listens to the clucks and calls of our chickens. Henry has his own little mini petting zoo that he is growing up on. I can't wait until this summer, to see him explore the farm for the first time. To watch him munch on a cherry tomato right off the vine, grab off a cucumber and enjoy it right there in the fields. This fall when he will be staining his hands red with the juice of a raspberry as he picks them with his mom. Wiping the dirt off his knees from falling in the fields when he runs to visit his dad. I can picture it, and it is beautiful.

This is a picture that I took of Henry when he was watching the pigs run around their pasture. The pure joy on his face. And on Luke's. If that isn't a reason to love farmland.....

....To be continued....

Pig Poop < Baby Poop

My tough-guy farmer husband has handled a lot of "dirty" jobs. He cleans the chicken coop without a second thought. He takes no issue with grabbing a shovel and scooping a trailer's load worth of chicken excrement. If he takes a break to get a drink of water, sometimes he even absentmindedly leaves his boots on and brings chicken feces-coated bedding into our kitchen. (This is one of the many reasons I need to vacuum my house every single day, especially since our sweet little H has hawk-like vision, and can scope out a microscopic speck on the floor over ten feet away from him, that he just MUST put in his mouth. If you remember back to my ladybug post: yesterday, I saw him chewing and making a strange face. I open in his mouth and what do I find....a ladybug! I can surround him in toys and vacuum daily, and he will still find the one thing that he can't have, and try to eat it....but I digress).

Anyway, back to the point. Luke also has the responsibility of shoveling the pig manure. Typically, the pigs go to the bathroom in their pasture, but the pigs that we have when there is still snow on the ground don't like to venture outside, so they go to the bathroom in the pig pen. I find pig manure to be foul stuff. It stinks. When their is an east wind and I have the windows open, the smell quickly consumes my house, and forces me to shut windows. It is terribly nasty. But Luke will not hesitate to grab his shovel, and clean out the pig pen, stench and all. 

Pigs, chickens, ducks, even Tobshu's feces....none of it bothers him, and he cleans it up without a thought. So how is that little H can go to the bathroom in his diaper, and Luke high-tails it out of the room? Or pass him to me and scoff at the smell? I don't get it. In my opinion, baby poop is not nearly as bad as pig poop. Luke disagrees. Now don't get me wrong, he has changed plenty of dirty diapers in his fatherhood debut, but if he had the opportunity, he would pass the job on to me every time. I find it hilariously ironic.

Little H isn't feeling well this week, and therefore left us something of an unpleasant surprise. Tough guy, manure-shoveling farmer-man was beyond disgusted. I needed assistance with that one - Luke sort of awkwardly laughed or cringed the whole time.  Now, don't get me wrong, it wasn't a glowing-motherhood moment for me either. But I guarantee I would rather change the diaper of a baby before shoveling pig manure. I guess that is just another way Luke and I are different from each other. And I suppose, it establishes a good balance between us as well! 

It Smells Like Ladybuy Pee?

If people every worried about ladybugs going extinct, they could rest assured the population that exists in our house could probably replace the wild population. They have a very healthy residence in very peculiar rooms in our house. In particular, they like to inhabit my son's room, our master bathroom, and the laundry room. I rarely see one in our living room, but walk into H's room and it is like a ladybug metropolis. I can vacuum them up, get every last one, and the next day they reappear, by the dozens, as if by magic.

Luke orders live ladybugs to help control aphids in the greenhouse. It works wonders. No chemicals involved, and the ladybugs really do their job. Sometimes I wonder if Luke accidentally released them in the house, with how many we have. He swears he didn't, but I have to wonder. There have been many occasions where he brings one or two into the house by accident. They travel aimlessly on his Carhart pants, only to find themselves in some new paradise, most likely Henry's room. I find them to be a mild annoyance, Luke finds them to be an essential farm employee.

Luke orders ladybugs by the quart. How many ladybugs is that?  About 20,000!!! (If you ever want ladybugs for your own purposes, check out http://www.thebeneficialinsectco.com/aphid-control-ladybugs.htm ). He releases them into the greenhouse; a location that he himself spends countless hours. Needless to say, he knows the little creatures well. I had no idea how well he knew them until a recent candlelight diner.

It was a peaceful night. Henry was in bed, dinner was made, and the wine was on the table. Lights were out, candles were lit, and we were conversing about our days. Out of nowhere Luke says "It smells like ladybug pee."

"What?" I ask, confused. The dinner I made smelt delicious, delicious aromas of pork filling our house and enticing our tastebuds. How on earth could it smell like ladybug pee? What does ladybug pee even smell like?

Luke said "Didn't you tell me that when a ladybug lands on you, it pees?"

I think my face let him know I had no idea what he was talking about.

Luke continued, "Well, whatever it is, it has a distinct smell. Trust me, I am with them all the time. I know."

My face, still blank.

Luke went on further, "Seriously Mel, I mean it. I bet there is a ladybug by us." He seemed like a lunatic, but being a scientist myself, I had to check the theory. So, I started looking around. I stood up, walked behind him, and sure enough, crawling on his left shoulder was a ladybug.

I know my profession well. I know the ins and outs of my students, and can read many of them like a book. But to recognize the excrement smell of an insect - well that is just beyond me. Impressive, to say the least.

Growing in Antarctica

At this very moment in Wisconsin, it would be easier to grow in Antarctica than it would here in Wisconsin. A continent covered in ice 100% of the time - and our greenhouses would be doing better if we moved them down there.

Okay - sure, we can ignore the obvious fact that it is summer there, and winter here. But still, it is crazy to think about. They have warmer conditions and 23 hours of daylight - our greenhouses would do awesome.

Allow me to demonstrate via picture:

This first image is a screenshot of current conditions at Camp Esperanza, Antarctica:

And here we have a screenshot of current conditions in Green Bay, WI:

So, if we look at the windchill, we can compare -32 in Green Bay to 13 in Antarctica. Anyone up for a vacation? Because 13 sounds balmy :)

But seriously, I will admit I have been questioning the value of keeping our greenhouses alive. Luke currently has a fire going in each greenhouse wood furnace, and the propane furnaces haven't turned off either. Combine that with the propane shortage that puts propane at $4.50/gallon, and we are basically throwing money up into those 30 mile per hour windgusts!

I am certain any customer eating our kale, spinach, or salad mix will appreciate the healthy, delicious, local product this time of year, but I can't wait for 20 degrees. Positive 20, that is.

It's Simple: DIY

Have you ever tried a DIY project? "Do-it-yourself." What a simple sentence. As I was writing this blog, I realized we have a DIY lifestyle. You know,  when you are a young couple living on a farm, you get all sorts of opinions about your lifestyle. Some people think we are hippies (so not correct), others think that we are work-obsessed and trapped by our lifestyle (a little correct), but the number one thought I hear is something like "It is so neat what you do; I wish I could do something like that." Even if they don't say they wish they could be farmers, they tell us how "neat" it is what we are doing. And today I realized I want to figure out why that is the comment that I got twice at farmer's market today.

So, I started to ponder - why would everyone say what we do is so neat, so intriguing? What a simple thing to say, but the reality is (and I'm not bigheaded) that this lifestyle is not for 99% of people. I don't know that I am even one of the 99% of people that this lifestyle is for, but I give it my best effort! The fact of the matter is, it is so easy for people to say, but not do. I remember back to when Luke told me he wanted to be a farmer, and I too thought it was simple.

If I flashback to that moment, I remember it quite clearly. We were walking to Picnic Point in Madison, Luke a college sophomore and me a college junior. We were in a very long distance relationship - six hours apart and seeing each other once a month. Luke told me that he didn't think he was happy with his major, that he was thinking of making a change. And then he said it,

"Mel, I want to be a farmer." A simple sentence - and yet how could I ever know the complexity, the adventure, the journey it would bring me. We talked about his plans, his dreams, and the passion in his voice shined through in that moment. That may be the thing I love most about Luke - his passion; he can intoxicate people with his passion for what he does. The rest of that day, our talk of the future, was clouded by learning that Luke would need to transfer closer to me in school.

And that summer, the farm began. The roots of our DIY life. Luke interned on another organic farm, but he also started his own. Twin Elm Gardens was born in 2008. I can't believe where the time has gone - from a small vegetable garden to where we are now. Meager beginnings: our first farmer's market we had zucchini and some greens - I think we made $75 total. And now we have a farmhouse that we can call our own, a family, a dog, two greenhouses, pigs, chickens, ducks, a barn, tractor - all a simply beautiful farming life. And we provide local food for people all over the Green Bay region, from our restaurants, to our CSA program, to farmer's markets.

I think in this complex, money-ridden, fast-paced society, what people are truly enthralled by is the simple concept of providing for ourselves. Slowly but surely, the shift in perception is to support local, to "do-it-yourself." I used to spend hours on pinterest, looking up DIY craft projects. I never stopped to realize that right there in front of me, our farm is the best DIY project we ever took on!