Journal entry

April 19^th 6:11 am Friday, 35 outside and 61 in yurt. Today highs in the lower 60’s will be cold tonight, no frost warning, but a fire will be needed.

I’m sitting in front of a beautiful fire with a very hot cup of coffee. I ran out of pages in my journal so decided to type away. Yesterday was chili stayed cloudy and very windy throughout the day. The rain from the night before only measured in at ½ an inch so that thing needs to be re- mounted (not level) word has it we received at least five inches of rain the night before and by the looks of the pond I believe it. We missed the bad stuff, the hail, the 60 MPH winds by mere miles. Luck, that’s what that was. Luck. The field looks a little ragged but not nearly what it could have looked like. Whew!

Yesterday was spent digging myself out of a really dirty and disorganized house. The commercial kitchen project we have going is almost complete but the farm house is a crazy place. Cleaned now, scrubbed down to the studs. The kitchen is looking great. Something I’ve dreamed about for years is finally becoming a reality, It’s been hard though and costly. 

Jackie Dill came yesterday afternoon, with Neva and her WWOOF-er  ( http://www.wwoof.org/ ).  They settled in at the cabin, Linda brought a load of wood up and the place was cozy by dinner. They will be up and about foraging this morning and throughout the day for the found and foraged dinner here at the farm this weekend. 

I slept fairly okay woke up a couple of times once to put wood on the fire. The second time I woke up was at 3:45 the night was still and quiet. This is the time of the morning when thoughts can get ugly and your brain can turn on you. I’m ever so familiar with this routine so instead of engaging the thoughts I focus on my breath. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly. Deeply. Then before I know it the alarm is going off and the smell of coffee and firewood fills my senses. 

I’ve been so busy I haven’t made time to sit. I miss my practice and try to practice deep mindfulness as I’m working but nothing is quite like the time and space sitting in meditation. I long to rejoin my breath. Things are down to the wire, the kitchen, the dinners, the field, the goats…. I know it’s only temporary and I’m trying to work with grace but I’m tired. Haven’t had a day of rest in several weeks and am starting to drag. This Sunday though is that day. We’ll milk and do the regular animal chore but a book and a position of leisure is my aim for the entirety of the day. 

In spite of my extreme tiredness, the energy will come to create a six course dinner from wild foods foraged from the farm and nearby.  This is the first dinner of the season. I’m tired but excited and am ready to take the plunge and immerse myself in cooking. This will be my practice today. A place I’m familiar with, a refuge. A still pond that I float on. The wild foods are the current that moves me from place to place, and as I shut my computer I will release myself from all other thoughts and concerns and surrender to flavors, textures and the colors. Ahhhh. What a wonderful thing. 

It is an absolutely beautiful morning.

Competing with the moon

This morning the moon and the security light (I think that is what it’s called) were competing for shadows. Each at opposite sides of the farm. That’s how it is at the farm right now everything competing for light. Maybe that light is the sun, the moon, attention, or a bottle. But living is sometimes a competition that only the strong or the ones pliable enough to be tossed around a bit survive. The great thing about waking up at 5 am is I get to experience the play of darkness. It sometimes feels like such a secret world.

While I’ve been gone from the blog, 17 kids were born and are all thankfully healthy and strong although we had a couple that were questionable. All of the Does are doing fine but one of our girls had quadruplets and we were worried but she is doing just fine, as it turned out another Doe, Ruby who had twins suffered from a light case of milk fever and spent yesterday morning getting love and attention from the vet. She’s on the mend.

Along with the welcoming of 17 new lives we’ve also managed to plant a few thousand broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage plants, 4500 onion plants, several rows of cool weather seeds and the propagation hut is now housing 1000 tomato plants (27 varieties) and baby chard, kale, kohl rabi, pepper and soon eggplant and a few other variety of plants. We started converting the old farm kitchen into a commercial kitchen and that’s been a lot of work, but worth it I’m sure! 

Oh and I got married (in Seattle) It’s funny how I didn’t really think Marriage would change anything. I mean I love this person beyond belief how could a ring and a piece of paper ( a legal document) change anything. But amazingly it does feel different and often I feel the ring on my finger and the greatest Joy comes over me. It’s a reassurance, a profound statement that I and the person I love have made a bond that is almost wordless, meaning the depth of that bond may sometimes go beyond what we can form into words which can do justice to our feelings. So the ring does that for us. It says everything we can’t. It’s silent and powerful, needing no explanation.  So this is a surprise to me and I understand now why getting married has been such an important subject in our culture and society.  Now the debate is who owns marriage. Who has the copy right on marriage? Who is allowed to marry and who is not? 

I have catered countless weddings as a matter of fact I’m catering a wedding reception this Saturday. This couple can marry anywhere they wish, and did.  I will provide the food for their celebration like all the ones before them. I will poor my heart into it like all the receptions I’ve catered before. In spite of the fact that marriage is a privilege that has not been available to me until now, when my home town passed a law making me equal to my family and friends at least in Washington. I’ll take it. Even if it is the skim milk kind at least through the eyes  of legal lenses.

But enough of that right now. Life is all around us screaming for attention. Each moment a flying arrow. Gone so quickly. One day we wake up and realize all the moments we’ve missed all the sunrises and sunsets, all the full moons. opportunities to love our enemy our friends, our family, to say how we feel, to create, to be profoundly compassionate.  To love ourselves so deeply that it spills over into the dear lives of people around us. Not forever but right now, I am here. I am here. I

A bright New Year

I quit making "resolutions" years ago, I do think about and plan changes, generally to do with what went right or wrong at the farm, what needs tweaking and what needs to stay the same. But the desire for self improvement, to be healthier, happier and more organized is a daily thang. So by time New Years rolls around I'm over it. I'm ready to get to work on real tangable things like getting the field ready for planting!

This year I am overflowing with hope, I have lots of exciting changes to soon start writing about and I cant remember a time when I harbored so much excitement in the pure wonder of being alive. 2012 for me was one of the best years as far as the farm goes. It was a year of self awareness, forgiveness, humility, and the first year since I began farming that I had a few dollars in my bank account at the end of the year albeit not much, but more than negative so that's a real accomplishment! This would horrify most but I have the biggest grin on my face right now!

While I don't have a "resolution" I do have an intention. I've been reading this prayer before and after each time I sit. Although I may not see Lord or Master as something outside myself, this prayer has profoundly spoken to me and has become my intention for 2013 and beyond.

Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.


O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying of self that we are born to eternal life.

Happy New Year friends, may you be safe, may you be healthy, may you be happy and may you be at peace. And may you eat many vegetables!

Winters past

We've had a couple of challenging winters on the farm that have been hard to forget. The blizzard of 2009 on Christmas and the big snow storm in 2011 two days after we received 28 pregnant sheep, ready to pop. Oh the fun! I was just remembering one year, just befor kidding I decided it would be a good idea to lay several inches of wood chips down in the barn instead of hay which is what I normally use. When kidding and lambing began I would come out to the barn to find Almond Roca kids and lambs. The Southdowns were the worst!  The momas were terrible about cleaning them off so they were just covered in wood chips. On more than one occation I would find my self in the shower at three AM with a cold skicky wood chip dredged lamb. They were so frikin' cute though!

And the lamb that dropped and got left behind. I found it, thought is was dead but it was just cold. The lambs tail was frozen! In the shower we went and then the blow drier and then in the laundry basket with the heating pad. How bout the time we lambed out 49 ewes oh lord I thought I would die!
They were just coming one right after the other! I couldn't keep my head on straight!

Well in two months Kidding rolls around. My latest count was 18 bred. I thought it might be twenty b'cause the buck decided to go A-Wall and got in with all of the girls. But those girls (the ones I carefully decided not to breed) will be due late May. Half will be due first couple of weeks in March. But no more sheep. I am out of the sheep business and couldn't be happier. I am excited about kidding and I'm excited to finally have some winter weather. I feel like I'm ready, as ready as I'll ever be. Got the stove going, hot tea and carrot cake, what more could a girl ask for?

Mistakes

I just noticed today that when I make mistakes I no longer rant on with the inner dialog about how stupid I must be, how unworthy and well... the list of words I once used to describe myself was long, But that's beside the point. What I have come to recognize is I no longer see myself as this "adult", who's experience and wisdom somehow should reduce the amount of mistakes one makes. I now see myself as a little baby, or a five year old. Mistakes are inevitable because at five your on the fast train to living. Your not worried about making a mistake, your concerned with exploration in the here and now. That's real freedom right there.

I would not want to be five years old again. At five I was a lonely child. Painfully shy which I learned later to overcompensate for by creating my own world and my own reality. But I have a lot of compassion for that five year old, and I know she is okay. I also know throughout her entire life until she is in her 47th year of life she will believe that each time she makes a mistake 1billion brain cells are killed, and she is unworthy of the blessings in her life.

The garden has taught me about new beginning after new beginnings, and forgiveness.How am I different than the soil, or than a radish? Each winter I watch life end an start again. Living examples of freedom and innocence.  Not recklessly, not without thought and intention, not without struggle, But graceful in the truth. Seeds, if cared for thoughtfully will grow.  I have many seeds inside myself that need thoughtful care. People and animals, vegetables, some I know some I don't, need that same kind of care.That has become a simple truth for me.

Studies in cold

I sit at my desk with dogs at my feet, comfortable within the protection of my small house. Outside, a beautiful unseasonably warm winter afternoon. I spent the day tending to some things in the garden and the afternoon cutting a dead pecan tree into manageable pieces for the stove. It was close if not 65 degrees out. There have been many days that cutting wood was done in heavy carhartts and thick sweaters, but it was nice having just a sweatshirt, jeans and a baseball hat. I try not to think about the weather as much as I used to. I keep updated on forecasts and such but I no longer am so obsesssed with wind speed, direction, and  hourly humidity. Things change so rapidly from one day to the next that I just have to throw up my arms and surrender. What will be will be.

Last Sunday night as expected the temperatures fell into the 20s. During the day Linda and I harvested vegetables for our CSA and made sure all of the rows were covered with fabric row covers that will protect the crops from frost damage, most of these crops are winter hearty and can freeze solid and still be fine unless frost hits them. The broccoli rabe was so tall the covers wouldn't fit over it so we had to harvest as much as we had time for and say goodbye to the rest which broke my heart because it was so beattiful, but there was no more time, it was getting dark and we were getting very cold.

The next day, the broccoli rabe was badly beaten. I knew it would be and wasn't concerned, I had agreed to let it go. The next three nights temps dipped down into the 20's along with high winds, which is unusual at night. The sound of the wind wisling through the tree branches and distant howls of coyotes made the night to be just short of a snow storm. The fire in the stove was cranked up high and still only kept the yurt just above 65. (I like it around 75) . we both bundled up with our books. In the morning once once the ice crystals melted off the grass I went out to the garden to find that the west end of the greenhouses had been blown to hell and were just flapping there amongst 2000 sq feet of dead vegetables, not only that but some of the crop covers had been blown of leaving swaths of dead beets, turnips and greens. what was left under the covers fared well but the loss was epic. I stood out there in utter disbelief .

I accepted what happened pretty fast and had a plan in place with in seconds, before the shame, self doubt, feelings of failure could set in. I would repair the green houses and replant for a early march harvest of carrots and greens. Whats out in the feild is enough to get me through two more deliveries. I can sprout and grow micro greens and I will just have to let the CSA members know what happened. I called Linda who was a work to give her a report. Immediately Linda was preforming triage on my fragile situation and a few minutes of her telling me it was going to be okay I interrupted her by saying "I'm really okay" "you are?" she asked . "Yes, I am"

The truth of the matter is, this is small potatoes. I can re plant I can make due, And in light of bigger tragedies I'll save my energy. I'm not a parent, but I'm a daughter, an aunt, a sister, a cousin and even though I do not have children of my own, I also grieve and feel a deep profound sadness for the loved ones and families in the terrible nightmare in Connecticut. So tonight I count my blessings and feel the tenderness of care for those around me and far away, I promise to smile at strangers (In a un- threatening way) be kind, and not be governed by fear so I may not find these things possible.
I shall plant the fields, hoe the weeds and keep close to me my lessons of the cold.

First breath

Winter is often a time of deep reflection. A time to evaluate. I looked at last year’s posting on the blog and found nothing for December. What was going on? So I found myself turning through the pages of last year’s journal entries looking for clues. What I wrote in December was about my desire for clarity and solace. I was trying to establish some kind of title for myself, some kind of box I could comfortably fit myself in, some kind of identity. Was I a chef? Was I a farmer? Was a dairywoman? The lines were all blurry. I was in a state of discomfort. I was trying to reconcile my past with the present. Trying to see a future by letting go of the past. I worked hard on this and used up many pages in my journal. I recognized my biggest struggle and challenge was forgiving myself of my shortcomings and as ridiculous as this sounded at the time, loving myself. 

Uncertainty is frightening. I have had to really work hard at getting outside my ridged ideas of how things are supposed to be. This has been an ongoing struggle from a restaurateur and chef where life is fairly predictable to a farmer where expecting predictability is a joke onto oneself.  I didn’t realize how uptight I really was. But when faced with the daily life of farming I was constantly struggling. I thought I was struggling with the wind, the rain, the heat, the dry. I was only struggling with myself. None of those things were doing anything wrong. 

This morning I was listening to the big dogs bark. The morning was so quiet and still all I could hear was the bark and the echoes. Do the dogs hear the echoes? Do they think there is another dog barking back? There is no way to really know for sure but I doubt it. I recognized that echoes also happen in the human mind. Someone speaks to us and immediately what we hear are not just the words but the echoes which is essentially our brain translating it into judgment. Shame, anger, sadness, insult, pride, happiness. But it’s nothing more than an echo, and we believe the echoes are real and base how we act in the world by them. But echoes are not real, our judgmental imaging is not real.  Mindful or deep listening is hearing that persons words without listening to the echo. Imagine that! I have no idea of what that would even be like but something tells me there would be much less anxiety and suffering in the world.

When I was a baby I wasn’t hearing echoes, just sounds, the way they really were, without judgment, when words didn’t automatically come with emotions. My true nature was vulnerable, innocent, pure, non-violent.  That baby is still inside of me. That baby grew but did not disappear. When I die, if I am fortunate enough to grow old I hope I die that baby. I hope I can become that baby again, ready to reach out and experience things as they truly are. With this I recognize that my greatest enemy was a baby exactly as pure and innocent as me, how could I ever hate or be angry at a baby? This is what they talk about as being our Buddha or Christ nature.  Everyone we face good or bad have at one time taken their first breath, and in that moment of our first breath is always how we should see each other, because at some point all of us share this truth, we will also have a last breath.