Sunday, January 25, 2009

New Year's Eve




Tonight we returned home to our "temporary" abode after two long days working on the farm. Yesterday we rented the uber-rototiller and went to town preparing for Spring and beyond. Originally when I walked into our island hardware store to rent a tiller I was thinking something along the lines of what you may see on an infomercial, but when the man at the rental counter showed me the hydraulic tiller supreme with reverse tine action and disengageable wheels for easing moving while powered-down I just saw my farm chores in the palm of my hand.

We put the word out to friends and by the grace of something larger than us, our friend who used to run a large equipment/earth moving company said he would be happy to babysit the tiller ALL DAY. So there we were, Christian our friend with the tiller, Toby with the tractor, kids with the smiles, and me with the finger pointed to where to dig, till, dump, and plant. In just the first day we doubled the size of the garden to around 80 feet by 40 feet, and tilled some empty places in the orchard where we intend to put in a few more trees to eventually bring us up to a cool 100 total. The second day of work we battled with the evidence of a rat in the apple stores, snow flying, and a lack of power tools. Even still we were able to reposition lots of berry plants, hopefully doubling the growing capacity of our tastiest cash crop and tucking them in for the next few cold weeks with compost and a layer of straw.

Before tucking the kids in to bed tonight we stopped to wish each other a happy new year, because tomorrow is the start of the new "lunar" year. We love observing the lunar new year as a true turning point in our lives every year. We like it because it tends to be a bit separate from the cluster of holidays in December, and rather than following a date on the calendar it follows the cycle of the moon. The moon, we are learning on the farm, is really the Mother of Nature. It's pull is felt by the plants, and depending on where the planets are in the night sky the moon can work some magic on what we offer up to grow in our soil. We also love the lunar new year, because it is so ancient and tied to Asian culture, something we are very passionate about. Although we visit our international district way more than the average "white" family, we always feel out of place. When we take the kids into a Chinese medicine shop we are often ignored as the shop owner probably assumes we are lost or tourist from some far away place. It is only after we make the effort to engage in conversation or ask if they have sichuan peppercorns, or cloud ear mushrooms that the ice is broken and we are welcomed as if we are family. But during the lunar new year you see people of all colors and backgrounds mingling without reservation in a neighborhood that for just one week is loud, delicious, grandiose, and especially beautiful. This week we eat Asian food every day, oranges for luck, long noodles for long life, and dim sum and bubble tea as we watch the dragon dances. We light firecrackers to scare away bad spirits and bad luck and share our riches with our children so that they may do the same with their children some day. We love this week maybe in someways more than any other holiday, because no one in our immediate circle of friends and family have any expectations of us. We are both anonymous in our celebrations and very open and public in our love of all the ancient traditions. And each year we reach out to others to join in our complete joy revolving around this turning of the moon, the first new one of the year.

We look forward to this new year, the year of the Ox, with anticipation of our own oxen abilities. We push tillers, hoe rows, pull weeds, and work out in the open under the elements. We eat and drink well, sleep a little, and breathe in the fresh air. We are hopeful for a great harvest, but take each day as it comes. We do the jobs that need to be done every day and marvel at how they add up to more than their sum. And most of all we thank our lucky stars....and moon.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Go Away Snow!




When I was younger I loved snow. I prayed for snow days. I loved to sled. I would build sledding runs down our front steps just to give me another place to throw down the sled between home and the park. Alas, I no longer love snow. We have endured a remarkable amount of snow at the farm. The first few days of the real snow we remained at our rental home, trapped at the bottom of a steep and slippery driveway. But after the second day, Toby brought out the tire chains before things got worse, and they did, and we crept our way to the farm. We figured that if we lost power at the rental house, were everything runs on electric, we would spend our days cold and miserable. But at the farm, although it is tight living quarters, the previous owners left us with a great generator that plugs right into the home’s power box and can pretty much run anything we need. Plus, we are one of the lucky few on the island who have natural gas as our heat, hot water, and cook stove, which is a big bonus when you have no power.



Now, for those of you readers who our new to our blog, or do not remember the set up at the farm let me bring you up to speed:

We have one room in the upstairs of the farmhouse. It serves as the primary, and only finished out living space for the farm. It is a fabulous, cozy spot with a sumptuous view; very romantic. However, for a family of four plus a lovely dog the space seems pretty small. And it was small. After eight days sharing this one-room sanctuary we all needed a bit more elbow room. By then we were able to cast off the chains and slip our way back to the rental to catch up on sleep and stare at the Christmas tree that ended up getting ignored this year.

The other reason for staying at the farm in the midst of all the snow, was to keep a closer eye on all of our “investments”. Daily we walked the rows in the orchard to make sure the snow and ice were not weighing to heavily on the branches. We were constantly digging out the garden to keep the hoops elevated over the slow-growing Winter garden, and thawing out the chickens’ drinking water once or twice a day until the temperature crept back up to above freezing. All of these things we embraced heartily and were thankful that nothing got too damaged, and we did not completely lose anything. We filled our bellies for a good week with the salvaged garden greens and roots, patting ourselves on the back for our fortitude. Since then we have dealt with more snow, power-outages, wind, and lots of rain. None of it is fun, and at least once a day I roll my eyes at the latest must-do that skips ahead of everything else on our long list of farm chores. I realize now, more than ever, that we pay too little for our food. We too easily forget the countless cold, dark, wet hours put into any crop before it even sees the light of Spring. So now we sit down to pour over seed catalogs, search out organic sprays and mulches for the orchard, and comb the aisles of our island thrift store for some gadget that can help us get things done. We clutch our checkbook in our hands and check our funds in the bank. We wonder how have so many farmers before us done it, and how many of us can continue to carry on the great tradition? Thanks to all who provide, and most of all to the Earth.