CLEARING.
In order to build a cabin, or really to walk onto our land, Hannah and I had to clear a great deal of honeysuckle and rosebush, saplings and briars. Most of this activity, however, took place in the fall when much of the life was dormant, hidden from sight or on vacation. Now however, as the clearing continues, we've become INTIMATELY aware of the life—of the ecosystem within which we are working. Our bodies are blistered with poison ivy. Our hands are constantly lifting our shirts and waste bands in search of ticks (all too successfully). We uncover nests and holes, scare up snakes, poke toads and flush out rabbits. And there is something both tragic and wonderful about this element of "reclaiming" the land. We have no choice but to be sensitive to the environment during our work (it bites back), and it feels a lot more gentle to go about it this way—by hand—than with the giant machinery our poor skin wishes we were using. And in the end, we feel the land will be grateful, fruitful and full of life, just the way we like it. We'll hire some fowl to control the ticks, and hopefully some small livestock —a milk goat perhaps— to help remedy our poison ivy problem. The last thing we want to do is remove the life. And by working slowly, utilizing life to create a tolerable balance, we believe we won't just preserve the life at was there, but hopefully grow it a bit.
- Jesse.
LITTLE SEED FARM HERD SHARE.
This winter we made some great new farmer friends, James and Eileen of Little Seed Farm outside of Nashville in Lebanon, Tn. (Remember all their amazing animals?) They run a small, natural farm there, punctuated by a brilliant herd of dairy goats from which they will be offering a herd share of raw milk cheese and yogurt this year. And we are thrilled to announce that we will be helping them with this operation! For twenty weeks, starting May 18th, we will be passing out their herd share at the West Nashville Farmer's Market, Saturdays at Richland Park.If you are interested in signing up, please read more about the share here. For what amounts to less than ten dollars a week, you get delicious cheese and yogurt from a responsible and blossoming young farm. Please join us in supporting these wonderful people in their hard work!- Jesse & Hannah.
Bottom photo by Little Seed.
IN DEFENSE OF THE SUMMER BEARD.
A few years ago I decided, being that I was moving onto a farm, I had to shave my beard. Up until that point, I'd kept a beard for most of my adult life, and although I had no desire to get rid of it, I figured it was necessary. I just didn't think it made sense on a farm in Southern Kentucky to have a giant mask of hair on my face. I imagined months of hot days in the sun, suffocating and itching—shaving seemed like the logical thing to do. So I shaved. And it was miserable.I was itchy anyway. I suffered several doses of sunburn and overexposure that year. My face was burned everywhere my hat didn't protect. Although I didn't mind the chore of shaving—despite the fact that it involved heating water on a stove, driving to a sunny spot on the farm and shaving by the reflection in my truck's windows—my follicles mocked my efforts anyway by always reproducing a fresh, irritating batch of stubble within a day's time. By the late fall, I'd quit shaving.Going into the next summer season on the farm I debated shaving again. If the heat was that bad without a beard, I thought to myself, then having a beard was going to be much worse. But I didn't shave. And it was wonderful.What I'd never considered about facial hair was its utility. I'd never thought about the beard protecting my face from the sun or insulating it from the heat, and keeping me cool. I recognize that not everyone can grow a beard (like Hannah, who often bemoans this fact). But if you are like me, or any one of the tens of people who've asked me about farming with a beard, I highly endorse the summer beard. It's comfortable. It requires very little maintenance. Yes, it does occasionally retain some of my lunch or beer, but I couldn't see life without it. In fact, two years ago this week was when Hannah and I first became sweethearts—and I know, because she's told me—the beard didn't hurt my chances any. It might have even helped them a bit.- Jesse.
MORELS, MORELS, MORELS!
Morels are a type of mushroom - and they have been consuming all of our time and energies these days. If you have never tasted one, then you can't possibly understand how these little fungi can distract the attention of busy farmers in the spring. We literally will drop whatever important task we are working on and spend an entire day hunting for them after a good rain - and we have had great success so far this year.
As soon as Ira started finding them in the woods a few weeks ago, Jesse and him have been having a little competition, with delicious results. Last week, we enjoyed a meal of morels, stuffed with freshly ground lamb and asparagus. The luxury of farming at its finest.
- Hannah.