5:10 In the Deep A.M

The thoughts that occupy my mind these days are mainly on seeds, growing, transplanting and mowing.  There seems to be little to no time for any sort of non-productive recreation, the time to plant is now and seedlings- much like infants, demand full care and attention.  Thankfully, I arise very early.  My coffee break begins then around 5:10 in the deep A.M, just as the sun peeks over the Pocomoonshine knoll.  I travel to a spot in the yard where I might sit in the finest first sunspot, out by the chicken coop- near the Wysteria yet nearer to the Oak tree.  It is so early that the owl in the west woods still calls and the chickens barely whisper as they must hear too, an early warning of mealtime talk from a great predator’s beak to her babes-

“We are not only nocturnal, little ones.  In this first luster of light, many new and bright young things wander out into the sunrise glow and welcome the new day with songs that announce their position.  Breakfast time chicks, I’ll be back soon…”

The old hens stay put, but the young carefree rooster flies up to crow on a fence post…just like his brothers did and I can’t help but wonder if he wonders where did they go?  One morning, they were here too- the next, POOF- out of the thin air something plucked them up in mid-crow.  This farm does not much need a rooster so if he crows and goes,  I’ll heed to nature’s way and not make a big deal out of it. Although that fine cocksure Bantam is sure a welcome sight with his glistening black long tail feathers and white though dappled plumage.  Truly, I would hate to seem him go but what can you do when there are hungry babies in the woods with a sharp-eyed mama owl always on the prowl, vigilantly feeding her young?

Sip my coffee, listen to the birds- breathe deep and long and never shallow for the work of the day waits patiently as a keen eyed owl and can overwhelm just as quick as her swooping nature- one must be fit mentally, physically and perhaps most importantly to this wide eyed grower- spiritually attuned here by this light, this new day sun to take in each grateful breath and exhale just as thankfully for the opportunity to work with the earth. 

I am one year older- true, but my back is stronger and holds up better or perhaps I move slower and surer- maybe it’s the fluid way I work into the day, no longer rushing head on in but first, adjusting my heart to the love of the doing.  Every day I wonder still…and am filled with just being.

 Here…now.

Take care-

this place of peace

Good morning to you. I have missed out on all the amazing stories on the net lately, no blog reading, very little writing- I'm behind and so far ahead I caught my tail last week! (I'm pretty sure that's Mainer talk...or I just made it up, either way- it paints a pretty vivid picture of the joy of selling a house/farm.)

NO- I haven't sold it yet. I did push aside a pretty lucrative offer because it smelled too fishy. Ever get that feeling that something just ain't right- and if it just ain't right and you have to live with that stinky smell the rest of your life, well- would you do it?! Are you following me?

I have never prayed for a specific amount for this place, I've always just prayed for a fair offer. And- a "gentleman" offered me that fair offer just last week- with a bit of cajoling, then pressure, then harassment, then down right rudeness then the mother of all no no's with me- Manipulation. I had asked for the weekend to make a decision, what I got were sleepless nights, too many phone calls and just downright wonder at why the hell someone would act this way...

But when this person started tearing down the place after months and months of filling my ears with the beauty of it all and how it was move in ready and just what they wanted....

Tact and diplomacy were left back at the office I suppose when this "gentleman" put on rags of manipulation and dishonesty and declared them his latest fashion statement. Sorry buddy, I really appreciated your old attire and would have handed over the keys. Why do folks act so damned shady when it comes to money? I've seen it far too often and it is one of the saddest testaments to human nature- greed.

I spent a sleepless night on this one, tossing and turning- What to do, what to do? About 3 in the A.M Sunday morning- I went out on the porch, sat on the swing, the night was lovely and moon glow bright....And I decided I was going to trust myself. My goods were honest, my home, this land- bright and true. I had nothing to fear, my concern was that if I sold the place in this way, under shady circumstances- the sun might never shine on my memories of the place again. The goodbye would be an apologetic one..."I'm sorry, I hope I did right...goodbye!" I want to leave this place of peace in peace A good Goodbye- so I said thanks but no thanks.

At first I thought I would feel overcome, distraught- how could I say no? I didn't say no- to me. I said yes to me. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, it feels some good.

I won't know the outcome until the outcome...comes. But I do believe I will feel a whole lot better about whatever decisions I make- they'll be right and bright, dappled sunlight is OK, but shady deals? Nope.

Take care-

if the boxes became butterflies....

Good morning and where have I been, you wonder to yourselves...or maybe, like me- this gorgeous May has got you all pretty darn busy, interests changing daily, and you just don't read the old blog-0-sphere stories so frequently. That's good. The sunshine and the rain, the flowers that respond because of all these wonderful planetary seasonal changes- good things to notice, good stuff that fills you right up and sticks to your ribs like a good meal. Oh my, that's five goods in a row there...hope I'm on to something!

Listen, you keep busy and I'll keep on cleaning out the attic of too many tears and surprises and stuff! And let's say we'll meet back here in, oh-I don't know, a few days?! I've been taking alot of pics, so beautiful, always beautiful, typically beautiful- is that a good thing?! The farm is sure doing it's naturally gorgeous best to sale itself. Except- it did not come with a self cleaning attic...

(...imagine what the world would be like if all our stuff that didn't really hold any true value after all would just evolve...if the boxes became butterflies and floated off into the wild blue yonder...if the pictures from long ago and far away, the ones that make you smile and remember so vividly, the love or the ones that make you cry and yearn for a smidgen of a yesterday that you could just hug one more time...imagine if you could take your finger and touch that spot from way back when and bring it to the present and somehow wrap it up and keep it safe...that's what attics are good for, I guess. You wrap things up, keep them safe, and eventually realize...the keepsakes aren't keepers after all- they are to be realized I suppose and then, like those box butterflies- they are to be let go...nothing grows in an attic- not memories, nor love...only cobwebs.)

So, in a few days friends, I'll be back- intact and armed to the teeth with my photo brigade of the beauty of Beauregards. Take care-

...other things

Good morning crew, thanks for checking in...always something of a mishmash here, huh? My summer readership is down, my writing is taking a back seat to farming and I suspect that many are as busy as I. That's good! Being busy, productive and enjoying the summer as we all should. Even the humidity has it's perks- the flowers here at Beauregards are blooming as fast as fireworks lit up in the sky. Every corner I round here has an explosion of color and fragrance. And just this morning, a quail called from out under the honeysuckle hedge...my french intern loves to hear the bird songs. Even the starlings have him seduced by their chirps to their babies above the porch swing. He was saddened by the boot two little fledglings received from their mama upon the porch floor. He gathered them up and tried to save them, nestling the lone survivor in his palm, keeping it warm with a cloth and his breath. He was even more saddened to learn that mama bird knows when a little one might not survive, and kicks it out so the stronger, healthier ones might surmount the odds of life against them. It was a touching scene...this young man of twenty, from the city- innocent to the ways of the wild. Sadly, he acknowledged he could not save the little bird he fell in love with...but I explained that the little bird knew of his devotion, and upon it's passing at least knew of love and warmth...that he had made a difference, to this one little life.

Yesterday was our first really big adventure into farm marketing. We had a space at the Illinois Farmer's Product Market at the Illinois State Fairgrounds. People turned out in droves...how wonderful to see the interest in local food, we sold out...by 5:30, intending to hold out till 7:00. I had a smorgasbord of herbs on hand, mixed mesclun greens, onions, fresh garlic, spinach, chard...and recipes! That was the key to selling everything I think...people really want to converse with the producer, want to feel safe and knowledgeable these days, about their food. I felt triumphant and exhausted last evening. Our stand (I explained to my intern) must be beautiful and fragrant and interesting. We did not sit the whole time we were there, so many came and went- some walked away with flowers, some rolled away with fresh garlic sticking out of a bag I attached to the back of their wheel chair. Yes, one lady- one sweet heart of a soul rolled right up and smiled an everlasting smile, spoke of her love for cooking and freshness...so many reasons to cry- this one, but she smiled and carried on. You just never know what form inspiration might take in your daily toil. Smiles on wheels. Yep.

I held a "Farm EC" class it seemed last night- every one wanting to know how to use this herb and how to prepare a vinaigrette that brings a subtle discreet flavor to an already bold mix of greens. I felt like teacher, farmer, philosopher and check out queen. The tally was added up at the end of the market, I couldn't have been more pleased. Next market Thursday...more recipes, more garlic(seems everyone wanted garlic) and chard- a favorite vegetable of mine. So, very soon- I will post recipes here, get folks to try an unimaginable mix of flavors that just might make one's senses pop in such a way that makes dining as passionate as...other things.

Have a really good one, I mean it...no holds barred goodness. Go for it, take care-

forks flying

The morning light has fallen on everything in such a way that all appears golden. Our better late than never shower yesterday afternoon perked everything up, made the corn grow in it's tweaky way...you can almost hear corn grow you know, after a rain.

I wandered around yesterday evening with my camera, left all the younguns on the porch with their bellies full of Sunday's feast consisting of in season bold mesclun greens with a tarragon vinaigrette, honey mustard chicken cooked on the grill by two of the younger chefs in the crowd(Emma and Zack, a neighbor boy)green beans with new potatoes and dill, and the finale of strawberry shortcake. My french friend, Nicolas- enjoyed every morsel it seems. Yes, my intern is here and last night was surrounded by people of his own age...he smiled alot, don't know how much of everything he understood. We did not eat at the table, too many bodies...we were impromptu on the porch- forks flying. It was a good evening, a wonderful get together...especially when the kids got up and cleaned as I walked away, camera in hand. Nicolas explained that they do not eat in their laps in Paris, it was different. I explained impromptu...flying by the seat of your pants, making do..."ahhhh!" he said. Again, not sure what all he is taking in, but he fits right in with that big grin of his.

And so, to end this blog today...busy, busy week ahead- perfection is not my aim nor will I try to impress, with the farm tour. I yam what I yam...but my farm is a beautiful, sustaining, therapeutic place which happens to provide a bounty that is delectable and yields many smiles. That is the impression I hope to make.
Be well out there, take in the sun and the shine...give it away by your smile, take care-

long time, no keys...again!!

I hope I haven't lost you...I am keyless once more. There's a whole lot of pasting going on...new hook up soon. Enjoy some pics for now, take care!

from, towards and to

I plant the seed,
You make it grow.
You send the rain,
I work the hoe.
(Author unknown)


Seems about time, me being a farmer and all...that I write about my practices. Sustainable agriculture, (or as I like to point out)- is basically farming like our great grandparents did- within the healthy boundaries of budget,environment,productivity, common good and common sense. Rarely did my own kin use anything other than manure to fertilize, rain to moisturize, hand labor, and pretty much just down to earth (for the earth) common sense. They realized, I do believe- that their efforts conveyed a simple acceptance of life and the job at hand. The food they raised upon the earth they so dearly loved was healthy and always a blessing. They took nothing for granted. They worked hard. They rarely complained. They prayed...alot! They shared the fruits of their labor with family, neighbors- pretty much anyone who asked for a sharing of a meal, the breaking of the bread...I remember I remember with great joy- butchering days-hogs and hens and many a rooster, these tasks were done with a spirit of gratitude. Always we helped when Dad would get us there, even though we were kids, my brothers and I-we had a job to do. And after the great and wonderful chores were done, we would always go home with fresh pork, bacon, sausage-the best your tummy could count on. I remember Uncle Hank handing over the craw of the chicken, it would be filled with grain and pebbles-nothing was ever wasted on the farm, we'd gleefully toss it over the fence to the other chickens. Life goes on and on and on...this may seem crude, gross by today's standards-but folks, honestly that food you're eating was once a living member of this society, and someone or some thing way down the line from your own local/corporate grocery line-produced it. These days- so many products on your grocer's shelf have seldom been touched by human hands.Call me a hayseed, but where is the connection there, the one we all flow from, towards and to? In my thinking...( maybe-that's why blogging was created, so we inadvertent writers aren't alcoholics or worse...and we get to say what we think, what we feel, how we process...great gig!)I miss the connection, I do not feel anything for a machine, I cannot.(Except for a certain old gangegreen Ford pickup...& computers- connective devices...)
Is this where we've all lost touch with one another? Could this be the industrial strength bond that has broken our society? Do we not need to feel anymore-the connections? Wake up and smell the horse shit-the roses, the herbs, the freshness, renewable ever resourcing connections-man oh man, it could be this simple...it is this simple for this simple mind. Who grew it? I am grateful for your labor of love. Who built it? Again, much thanks. Almost everything I buy is connected through a relationship with the one or those who produced it. (And not because I think I have all the answers...hell, I don't even understand the questions much of the time- but for some reason beyond me, I have been "touched" with an elevated purpose for common good.)Machines, corporations do not appreciate this gratitude, they do not care for connections. Oh, they advertise sure and lead us to believe that our best interests are at their hearts, but truly I wonder- if our best interests were indeed the common goal-wouldn't they just come out and state this is how this was made, this is where this came from, this may or may not be healthy for the environment, for you, for your family...would they not at the very least supply a label of origin? Or back up what they stand for by standing up for us, their customer? And while I'm at it...who the hell will take my phone call, listen to my concerns? (Don't have to tell you that, now do I.) If, again-there's was an interest of common good. Nothing to hide? Then why is it hidden?
Just my thoughts, my opinions, my write-about-what-you-do, and stay-on-task-here...but, me being a truewonder and all- I work amongst the roots. If the roots are no good, the plant cannot be productive, part of the scheme, the connection...
Just my two cents, not much change really-but even a little change, a little bit of thinking outside the box-stores might do all of us a bit of good.
And one more thing, because I feel the need to say this- Just when did making money over and above what is decent- become ethical? There are too many folks these days who would have us believe that making money by any fashion is ethical.???? Again, smell the horse shit?! It sure does stink.
Climbing down upon the ground... thanks for hanging and hoping with me...take care-
(No spell check net today, technology may be breaking up with me I'm afraid...)