Just Another Day

Just another day here on the farm has taken a whole new meaning in the past few weeks. Just another day involves the sun shining, the grass waving in the stiff breeze, the skies alternately clearing and darkening.  Everything is breathing with springtime, which is the softest, subtlest, most infectious form of happiness I have ever felt.  The lambs have bypassed the times of clumsily rambling through their pasture; now they have mastered the gallopy-jump-frolic that I’ve only seen cartoon lambs do.  Much to Sloan’s delight, the swallows have arrived in full force.  Their springtimes involve daily battles over the gourd houses Sloan has so carefully crafted for their imminent nests and babies.  Now Oakley and Duke (the dogs) spend the middle of the day panting in the shade instead of running nonstop through the sheep pasture. 

[Speaking of Oakley, she is the most hilarious sassydog I have ever met.  Please note the paws as she hangs out with us for an after-work drink outside. I can't express enough how much I love this huskador -- from her sass to her ears flopping when she runs to when she leaps over the fence and scares the crap out of the sheep, I love her. She and Duke love to nip each other gently and go run around the sheep pasture, eventually crossing into the meadow by the creek and chasing the hell out of the coyotes.  It's fantastic.]

In terms of farm chores, our tasks have varied significantly from when we first arrived.  The lambs have all had their tails docked and vaccines administered. The ewes are passing around a concerning case of hoof rot, so Sloan has been teaching us how to care and trim their hooves regularly.  The chickens have been clucking as always, and the barn cats wander with their usual abandon.  Our tomato transplants from weeks ago are slowly growing in their super-heated greenhouses. Alison and I have planted from seed (and transplanted) chard, cabbage, broccoli, collards, and peas, as well as at least half a dozen varieties of onion.  The favas are slowly poking through the soil as the sun has been beating more strongly, and the basil is standing up straighter.  My proudest moment thus far has been watching baby lettuces change.

 To the left is a baby seedling of lettuce.

Below is one of 42 lettuces that we planted in the greenhouse about three weeks after planting.  We didn't even check on them until a few days ago, and BAM! they were huge. Sloan allowed us artistic allowance to decorate the bed as we wanted.  Given this, we hope that the bed will be overflowing with red-and-green stripes once the lettuces are ready for harvest.

Seeing tiny seeds that you nurtured, that you tucked into a little bed of soil, that you watered and sunned and tended – watching those produce these relatively huge and solid plants that will feed someone is surprisingly rewarding.  Learning a smidgen of that patience has been deeply satisfying. More humbling, though, is remembering that our generous hosts – Keith, Sloan, Adam, CJ, and Debbie – are opening their homes and their livelihoods to our inexperienced, nervous little hands, patiently allowing us to learn how to make things grow with them.  

Our weekends have been just as varied as and even more unpredictable than the crops.  Two weeks ago Alison and I made our way to Eugene, OR, home of the University of Oregon and (more importantly) Bee Day.  Bee Day is an annual event held by GloryBee, a local bee-related natural foods retailer.  Bee Day involves beekeeping demonstrations, bee pickups, honey sampling, and showcasing of the latest in beekeeping gear.  Naturally, we perked up when Keith and Sloan told us about it and almost immediately booked our bus tickets.  While we didn’t leave with any new bee goods, we did sample delicious mint honey and cash in on some prime photography opportunities.

 Speaking of bees, Sloan also brought us along to open up the hives! I am not a beekeeping aficionado like Alison, but I do have to admit that it was a fascinating chore.  We learned about how bees keep warm in the winter, their brooding patterns, and the importance of moving around frames in the hive.  I was wary at first, but my bee suit protected me well against any duty-driven stingers.

Last weekend Alison and I checked out Falls City, the nearest town.  We took a gorgeous bike ride through gravel roads, gentlemanly bovines (they stood up for us when we passed by), dozens of farmsteads that all smelled like beeswax, and dusty old fir trees to reach the one-street town.  On Sloan and Keith’s suggestion, we explored the falls of Falls City, which present a stunning rumble with the waters of Teal Creek: 

This weekend has been all over the place.  One of Salem’s parks is holding an annual plant sale, and we have been prepping for weeks to sell our precious tomato plants.  Almost immediately after we came Alison and I transplanted about 2000 tomato plants, partly for this sale. 

 By now most of the plants have just burst into blossom or hold bashful buds; seeing customers rave about tomatoes from last year and ask about different varieties was fantastic.  I will never look at tomatoes in
the farmers’ market the same.  (Also, I strongly suggest the Jaune Flamee or Caspian Pink varieties for salsa and BLTs, respectively.) We bicycled around town, running errands and finding prime parks for napping.  It was a good day.

Tomorrow Sloan is taking the day off to take us to Tillamook and its legendary cheese factory!  I am so excited, I can barely think about it. I will definitely bring back pictures of the goodies – speaking of which, check out my web album!  

 Enjoy the springtime, wherever you may be.