LAMBMOWERS.
Mid-summer every year, our neighbor's at Bugtussle take the rams out of their flock of ewes to avoid having sheep born from December through February––a harsh time to be a baby on the farm. And every year this is an issue. Finding a place to keep them, then having to move the rams separately from the other animals, can be a headache. Luckily for everyone, however, this year Hannah and I not only had plenty of room to keep the rams, but plenty of need for them, too.We don't own any sort of mower––unless you're generous enough to call our scythe a mower, and our hand scythe a weed-whacker––and we'd like to keep it that way, but it's a lot of work keeping up with the grass with our antique tools alone. Since we don't yet own any ruminants, when Eric said he'd be taking the rams out in July, we happily volunteered to take them in: lawnmowers!This is a beautiful concept to me. I read an article last year in the New York Times about a guy who went to neighborhoods and mowed lawns with his sheep and I've been captivated by that idea ever since. Ruminants like sheep eat grass by nature, fertilize while doing so, then subsequently turn that grass into meat (or wool, respectfully). They might do a clean job, but obviously lawnmowers cannot offer the same payback––cannot turn your lawn into dinner or clothing.Anyway, we've greatly enjoyed having these rams around to clean up in places we never get to. In fact, they're further inspiring us to start thinking about getting ruminants of our own next year because honestly, they cost about as much as a small mower, and they not only take care of the lawn and turn it into meat, milk or clothing, but do a quite the number on our poison ivy problem as well. Just ask Hannah how much she appreciates the rams.- Jesse.
HEIRS.
As a punctuation to my recent musings on Antique Farming, Hannah and I planted some heirloom peanuts yesterday from Pearl River County, Mississippi. I'd received them from two of my seed-saving heroes, John Coykendall and Jeff Ross, the respective master gardener and farmer of the famous farm-to-table–to-bed resort, Blackberry Farm. But what could be more antique than heirloom seeds?––saved generation after generation by people trying to keep a special piece of diversity and culture alive. According to John, this particular peanut can be traced back to 1850, and we feel honored to be keeping it alive another year. Year 162.We have a great love for seed-saving and it will no doubt occupy much of the blog as the season goes on and as we plant and harvest our way through the year. Our shareholders will not only enjoy heirlooms of all shape and flavor––from colorful butter beans to wild tomatoes, popping sorghum to sweet potatoes––but by supporting us can also enjoy supporting this very important act of preservation. Hundreds of heirloom seeds go extinct every year, but Hannah and I, along with our lovely shareholders, can say with confidence that we're doing our part to carry on the tradition, keeping these antiques in use.- Jesse.
ANTIQUE FARMING.
"The longer Levin mowed, the oftener he felt the moments of unconsciousness in which it seemed that the scythe was mowing by itself, a body full of life and consciousness of its own, and as though by magic, without thinking of it, the work turned out regular and precise by itself. These were the most blissful moments." - Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
Yesterday, with the garden saturated in another half-inch of rain, Hannah and I spent our day antique shopping. I had one particular item in mind, one I'd seen at antique malls before but always passed on buying: a scythe. We hadn't had much use for one until now, but as we slowly make our way across the garden we've been letting the grass grow up in one half so we could cut it and collect the hay. Instead of bringing in some insane piece of equipment for an eighth of an acre of grass, however, we decided we'd cut it by hand, and that's where our new scythe comes in.
Scything is indeed a magical act, if I may be permitted an understatement. Nothing connects me to the olden days quite like the motion of swinging a scythe crisply across the grass and laying it down in front at my feet, a quiet horizontal pendulum, physical and satisfying. I think of Levin from Tolstoy's Anna Karenina, watching the men scythe proficiently with awe and jealousy. I think of the value people once placed upon tools like this, now easily found under a pile of shovels and pitch forks in an antique mall and sold as novelty––$45. Our scythe is a handsome and well-crafted tool, I can only imagine what it cost brand new, and what it meant to its owner. I joke with friends that we buy our farming equipment at antique stores...but with the addition of the scythe, and another hand scythe we purchased recently, perhaps it's becoming more true than I realize. Since Hannah and I have no real desire to ever be organically certified, or biodynamically certified, or to be certified by anything other than ourselves and our customers, maybe we'll just describe ourselves as antique farmers from now on, breathing purpose back into novelties, and constantly working to reduce, reuse and recycle.- Jesse.
A LIGHT IN THE ATTIC.
Today, Jesse and I went to my grandparents house in search of some cast iron skillets and a roasting pan for our ridiculously enormous turkey. This adventure turned out to be quite a lengthy treasure hunt through their garage and attic, through old photographs and sleds and books and dollhouses and spider webs. We have been watching a lot of Antique Road Show as well as Hoarders this week, so we felt right at home. Sitting in the attic, looking through an old suitcase full of dresses as Jesse flipped through a box of 45's, I had a secret hope to have such an attic of our own one day: a place full of memories, objects of a life lived, artifacts of a tangible existence. Who might be rooting through our old pots and pans one day?By the end of the morning, we had found our turkey roaster! Hooray for our first Thanksgiving! However, as the supposed cast iron was nowhere to be found, I am happy for an excuse to go back and dig around more sometime soon.- Hannah.
