MESSY MONDAY.

It has been awhile since we've done one of these posts...and February on the farm is definitely the perfect time! All of the rain, the freezing and thawing and snow - it makes for a whole lotta MUD. I mean, really muddy - like several inches thick mud that slorps and sucks your boots with every step. Plus, all of the vegetation is dead and brown, which makes every random tool, forgotten watering can or bit of garbage stand out. Basically - its ugly and messy this time of year. Just keeping it real.BUT, we are sowing seeds and organizing the greenhouse, knowing that soon enough we won't be able to keep the growth from consuming everything. The mess will be forgotten under the green until next winter.-Hannah.    

SEVEN NON-FOOD RELATED REASONS TO JOIN A CSA (OURS OR OTHERWISE).

 As a farmer, choosing to sell your veggies through a CSA is a semi-preposterous endeavor. You are, in essence, asking people to pay upfront for something you have not yet produced, something you do not know precisely how much you will produce successfully, all before you've even planted it.But one thing our shareholders learn quickly is that a CSA isn't just about good food––though it is definitely that––it's also about everything that goes into, and comes out of, growing it.So, in case you're still on the fence this year about joining a local CSA, we've put together a handful of reasons that aren't food for you to consider it––reasons we believe are as essential to the CSA as the food itself.The ExperienceThe first year we ever did a CSA, one of our lovely members (hi Alissa!) and her son came for a visit. We took them to the garden and asked him to reach into the soil in a particular spot. He did and then, with his arm half buried, he smiled. Looking up at us grinning he then pulled from the soil a fresh potato. Recognizing what he was holding I could see the wonder––a wonder I still feel when I pull potatoes from the ground. Neither Hannah nor I ever had this experience growing up of knowing where our food came from, or how it grew, but possibly because we never had a place to go to see it happening in real time. We never had our own farmers to show us. But in our CSA, our farm is open to you. Come dig, come pick, come see your food as it grows.The CommunityCSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture, and I often jest that it's a horrible acronym for how well it explains absolutely nothing about what a CSA actually is. But in reality, it explains precisely what a CSA is. A CSA bonds people together––patrons and farmers, patrons and patrons, families and families. It is a shared experience we all go through together––even if you live in Bowling Green and we live in Bugtussle––in the same way a community would. We swap recipes with one another––recipes, ideas, thoughts, ups, downs, everything. Last year we had a couple who ran into financial trouble mid-season, but we wouldn't let them drop out of the share. Instead, we gave it to them when they couldn't afford it because when do you need good food more than in a crisis? And, because that's what a community does.The RelationshipAnd that brings us to our favorite part––the relationship. We are friends with our shareholders. In many ways, they are family. We have eaten meals with them, had beers or coffee, shared personal stories and become close to a lot of our members. We look forward to seeing them every spring after a long winter away. Building that relationship is a big part of why we do this––we want to know the people eating our food as much as they want to know the people growing it. Watching families grow, and sharing the growth of our family, is one of the greatest joys of this job.The ImpactHannah and I care greatly for our soil––figuratively and literally. We amend it naturally, fertilize naturally, feed it, think about it, and make sure it's healthy. This is something to enjoy when you join a CSA like ours––that the farmers you support are taking care of the soil that's feeding you. They are working it gently and doing what they can to keep it thriving. In other words, when you join a CSA, you are hiring professional stewards to manage at least one small portion of the Earth on your behalf. Food has a great environmental impact––join a CSA and you get to control yours.The FarmersFarming the way we do is hard––no doubt about that. But it's something we love and it's something that we couldn't do without our shareholders. If we were to sell all of our food to retail stores, I'm not sure we could survive financially, at least not on this scale––a sustainable scale. We need our own customers––people willing to invest in the beginning of the season for what they will get throughout. It helps us do what we love, and provides our family with a sustainable income, but also allows us to know personally the people we are feeding.The InputWe don't design our farm anymore––our shareholders do. They have asked for more fruit in their share and we are working to establish it. Maybe one day they will want meat or eggs, and we'll work that in, too. More of one thing, less of another, we hear it, we put it into our plans. Because to us this isn't our farm. This is your farm. We are your farmers. And we want, in five or ten or twenty years, for you to be able to eat the fruits of our combined efforts––things you chose to eat.The SeasonalityOn our farm we grow over a hundred different varieties of veggies. The season starts fluffy and green (or sometimes amber gold in the case of honey), turning heavy and colorful by July, then rich and sweet potato-y by the fall. And perhaps nothing will make a tomato taste better than waiting for that first ripe Cherokee Purple of the season, or that first taste of fresh sweet corn (which we often get up early the morning of delivery to pick so it is at its freshest). Eating seasonally as you do in a CSA connects you to the seasons, to what the farmers are going through, and encourages you to be creative in the kitchen, but also forces you to wait until optimum ripeness when food is at its best and most nutritious.If any of that sounds good to you, don't forget that we still have shares available or that someone nearby to you probably does!-Jesse.

LET THEM EAT DIRT.

It was a rare warm day a few weeks back, and Further had been cooped up inside our tiny cabin for days and days. I was going a bit stircrazy myself, and lamented to Jesse that I wish we had some little toddler rain boots for him so we could go outside. Our farm turns into a muddy disaster during the winter, especially after snow.I was outside washing diapers when Jesse brought Further out and promptly placed him on the ground - no shoes necessary. I felt like smacking myself on the forehead - D'OH! Further had a blast and I was reminded of the importance of letting go of control and embracing the mess - it was so easy to clean him up afterwards and I simply washed his onesie in my last load of diapers before the mud was even dry.   Today, we're back to snow and rain and cold, but I am looking forward to warmer days ahead and more happy, dirty feet to clean.BUT AS A SIDE NOTE - where do y'all find little tiny rain boots??-Hannah.

ACORN FLOUR - UPDATE!

 We have posted before about making acorn flour - and this year we have been a little lazy. We harvested the acorns months ago and they have been sitting around waiting for us to get cracking.Well, we finally moved on to the next step this week. We received small farmer grant from KSU for a nutcracker and a grain mill, and WHAT A DIFFERENCE it makes to have the right tools! What literally took days and days before - hand-cracking the nuts individually - probably took Jesse less than one hour this year. Amazing!The next step is to leach out the tannins by tying a pillowcase full of nuts in the creek and letting the cold water wash over them for about a month. I can only imagine how much simpler it will be to grind the flour - using our new mill instead of a very small coffee grinder!