I really thought this was a short one, when I started writing...

It seems that one hundred days ago, I left Georgia for the great unknown. Having come to know at least one little section of it, I can confirm, that it is indeed, great.

I don't really have anything profound to say to mark the occasion. Farm work continues, we're quite busy all the time, but I still have time to write, and when someone invites me out for an adventure I always jump at the chance, and have yet to regret it.

Looking forward to Portland this weekend. Have no agenda, and don't even have plans for where I'm staying, or when exactly I'll be there, but I'm not stressing the details.

Some pictures to tide you over until I have something more substantial to share.

My first assortment of summer squash:



Blackberries, coming on strong. I swear the raspberries just started a week ago, and the last time I checked these were still green, and the size of a dime:



Hey look, pumpkins. Is it Hallowe'en yet?:


Food still grows, all of it growing inexorably closer to harvest. Zuccs and Cukes, Beans and corn, Celery, Broccoli, and Kohlrabi:




Sunday morning bread baking:


Some shots from today's hike to Lake Angeles. Wildflowers:




What on Earth are these?:

I don't know, but they turn into this:

And this thing?:


Lake Angeles, herself:


Look at that color:Come on in, the water's...well cold, but it was hot, and so that's fine:

A newt? I got better(sorry):


Waterfalls, at the lake, and on the trail:

I also took a hike with Maggie earlier this week up to Hurricane Hill, From Hurricane Ridge. Holy shit, pardon my swear words children, but holy shit. I don't know what I was expecting, but I can't believe it took me so long to get there. It was as beautiful a place as I've ever been. How does that keep happening to me here? It was fantastic, and I'm glad I didn't bring my camera because any attempt to capture what I saw would have failed to do it justice. The sun was setting, and the light was amazing. I can't say for sure, but I felt myself grinning like an idiot more than once. If mountains and wildflower dotted sub-alpine meadows are your thing, you could do a lot worse than to come to the peninsula. Also we saw bears. Plural. Heh.

I hope you are all doing as well as I. I know the time difference makes communication difficult, but I hope y'all know if you need me, you can call anytime. Love you all.

Oh, and lest I forget...Peaches, who knew?:

Reinforcing the transient nature of farm life...

Bear died this week; he was eight months old, and it was a total shock to all of us. Despite the sadness we feel at his loss, life on the farm continues, and there is no time to stop to mourn him, or even to slow down.

The peas are almost gone. We have maybe one harvest left. The strawberries might last for another two, but we have raspberries coming into full swing, now:



The zucchini should be ready for Wednesday market:


Apples and pears:





Discovered this week while making a regular walking apraisal of the state of the farm, Montmorency cherries:



Ume, I think:


So as things come to an end, other things begin. It is with this in mind that I've decided what I'm doing for my birthday. I have the entire weekend off, three days to do with as I will, and I'm going to Portland. I want to spend the winter there, at a bakery by preference, and maybe I'll be able to do something else of interest one or two days a week, if I can't find a full time gig. Rather than attempt to arrange this using the power of the internet, I plan on doing it the old-fashioned way. In person, face-to-face, in the hopes that this will reinforce the seriousness of my desire to come and learn from someone who has a passion for the same things I do. [edited: to remove shameless panhandling, which turned out to be quite shame inducing, after all]

Some of the baking I've been doing recently.

Roasted beet and garlic bread, beets courtesy of the kids at the Lazy J, garlic from the Johnston's:


Some gluten-free peanut butter cookies, and an apple cake I baked for the cookbook, I'm doing recipe testing for:


In other farm-related news, I got work my first market yesterday. It was an interesting experience, to say the least. On the one hand it was a lot of fun, to see the end result of what I've been working so hard for, and on the other it seemed oddly unproductive, at least at first. By the end of the day, I had come to realize, of course, that it was anything but. It was, in fact, the very neccessary end result of all we work so hard to accomplish. It was really satisfiying to see the appreciation on the faces of the people in the community who support what we do, and it was incredibly gratifying to be able to see the relationship Christie has developed with her regulars, and it was fun to see what the other farmers had available.

It was also like a recap of the fun and adventures I've had here so far; over the course of the day I saw most of the people who I've met, or had even the briefest of tangential encounters with; from Lindsay's girlfriend and her roommate, to the lovely young lesbian who shook the shit out of me at the rock show I went to the night before market, for not dancing. It was a great opportunity to recharge and reinvigorate myself after the hard work we've been doing, and to demonstrate unequivocally that what we do has a purpose beyond supplying us with fine fresh produce.

In summation: much to all our dismay, Bear, Nick's faithful dog, is no longer with us. It has shaken us all, but there is nothing we can do, beyond being there for Nick, Christie, and Kelly. The planting and maintenance, harvesting and selling continue unabated, in fact they have accelerated to the point where I have no doubt that whatever I do after this will make me feel lazy and unproductive by comparison. It's funny, now that I think about it. Twice this week, people have asked me whether I'm finding myself suited to this life. I recall saying early on that while I was learning a lot, I didn't think I would be doing this for the rest of my life, and though I'm unsure, maybe even doubtful, that commercial farmer is in my future; the more I think about it the more I can't imagine a life in which I'm not growing food in some capacity or another. Weird, but in another way entirely comforting. I naively did not think that this journey would change me. I had no doubts that I would learn about myself in the process, but I did not think that there would be any fundamental shift in who I am. Now I'm not so sure.

Pithy title forthcoming...

Hey there, boys and girls. Just a quick update today. Worked a couple of really long days this week. It went by so fast I can scarcely believe that it's Sunday. I have some pictures for your enjoyment, but have nothing exciting planned until later in the month. I'm going to do something fun for my birthday, but don't know exactly what, yet. Suggestions are welcomed; I'd be interested in hearing what y'all think I should do.

Those petit pois I mentioned last time:


Some perspective, to allow you to understand just how petit they pois:


Onions, just plucked from the ground:


Some jars of vodka infusing with fruit picked minutes beforehand:


Did pizza for the whole farm at lunch this week. That was a lot of fun. It's always gratifying to see the surprise on someone's face when they realize that something so familiar can be taken to another level.

The summer arrived with no warning, and has shown us no mercy. It's amazing how it happened, like flicking a switch, one day it was drizzly and cool, and the next it was dry and edging ninety. I've been assured that this isn't at all usual, and autumn will probably begin before my birthday. I think that was a joke.

We're in an interesting place in the season at the Johnston farm, maintaining what we've got accomplished requires a massive amount of effort, but we still need to prepare for the fall, and even the winter. Hence the long days, and less time for blog updates and adventures, but hopefully we'll arrive at a point of equilibrium in the coming weeks, and I'll be able to do some interesting things in addition to all the hard work. In the meantime, I'm going to finish the espresso I'm drinking, and head back to the farm for an afternoon of baking. I love you all, and wish you well...

One last shot in the name of meta self-reference:

Much has happened, but nothing has changed(In which a cousin appears, and a reacquaintance is undertaken)...

And as far as I'm concerned this is just fine. How are y'all doing? I'm just fine, thanks for asking. Today is the first day of summer up here in my little corner of the PacNorWe. Sunny, blue skies, and no rain in the forecast for at least a week. I'm almost as happy about this as the plants in the garden must be. We've been planting beans for the last two days, bush beans, green, yellow, and purple, and a bunch of beautiful dried heirloom beans I've never even heard of before. It's interesting. We've gotten to a point where instead of being days or weeks behind schedule we're actually getting things done when they're meant to be done. It's pretty cool. The farm is looking really good, and I'm incredibly happy to have been able to be a part of making it happen.

The fourth of July has come and gone, and I was lucky enough to be able to spend it with cousin David, who i haven't seen in years, since before he left for Japan, at least. It was a lot of fun to see him; even though we didn't get to spend a ton of time together. I'm sure we'll do what we can to remedy that situation in the coming months. We went to Lake Crescent, and I essentially gave him the guided tour that Maggie gave me and Kay several weeks ago, which was nice, since it allowed me to sound like I had some idea of what I was talking about.My favorite moment, and Dave's I reckon, of the whole trip happened as we emerged from the woods from our unsanctioned jaunt to Superior falls.

There was a small child playing on the border of the observation platform at the top of Merrymere falls. He was watching us descend from up high where we were clearly not meant to be. There was something akin to awe on his face, wonder sparkling in his eyes. His mother called to him, told him it was time to go. He shook his head, and pointed in the direction we had just come. "I want to go up there." He said. She shook her head, mentioned erosion, obviously a lesson she had been trying to convey to him. Dave frowned, explaining his belief that it's our responsibility to say yes to the next generation, to share with them our excitement for the world and it's myriad wonders. He smiled though, once we reached the bottom of the trail and pointed out that we had ruined that child. Having seen two weird guys emerge from the woods, where HE WAS NOT ALLOWED TO GO, he'll never be the same. He'll grow up wanting to be that weird guy, and as David said, that's pretty damn awesome.

After our hike we went and met up with some people, the farmers from over at the Lazy J, and we went into Port Townsend to celebrate the holiday there, which was convenient for David to catch the early morning ferry he needed to return to Bellingham. It was a fun time, we had dinner, and watched the fireworks at a park near the house we were staying at. In addition to the Port Townsend fireworks you could see at least half a dozen other displays being put on by small towns and islands across the bay. It was certainly a different experience from watching the show from a suburban high school. Afterward we returned to the house where we were staying and called it a night; I had to get up at five am to make it back to the Johnston's in time to do my writing before the day began.

The kids from the Lazy J, however, being infinitely more hardcore than I, went out to the weekly fiddle fest at Fort Worden, and didn't get back till three in the morning. This would be unremarkable if it weren't for the fact that Mike had me wake him at five, and I brought him back to his farm to get an early start. Their example is one of the reasons I have never felt overworked on my farm. Not even for a moment.

Not sure how much else I have to report. I cannot believe I've already been here for two months. That means it's time to start searching in earnest for what I'm going to do, and where I'm going to go next. I have some ideas, and some inklings, but nothing concrete yet. You can rest assured that as soon as I have something to report, you'll hear it here.

Some pics to prove to you that Dave and I actually were in the same place at the same time.

Lake Crescent:

Merrymere falls(I refuse to post my illicit pictures of Superior falls, if you want to see it you'll have to come to the PacNorWe, and make the hike yourself):

After our hike to the falls, we got a little turned around trying to make our way back to civilization:


And to finish a couple of shots from the farm.

The first of the garlic:

What did I do with my share of the bountiful harvest? Roasted it, and put three entire heads in a single loaf of bread. Heh. It was pretty fine.

My peas, finally ripe, and you had best believe I can't stop eating them:


The petit pois in particular are astonishing, more pics to follow, if I can ever stop eating them long enough to snap some pics.

Volunteer artichokes, discovered over by the winter squash. Talk about your happy accidents:



Ruth's birthday cupcakes, Vegan chocolate toasted coconut. I promise I tried to bake a proper cake, but couldn't find the right pan, and so I had to make do. No one complained:


I love you guys, and I look forward to talking to you all when I've got a chance. If I still owe you an email, I promise I'm working on it, but I'm trying not to spend too much of my time tied to a computer. Instead I'm reading(about farming, mostly), writing, and cooking. The things I've always loved most, which are being given a special savor because of where I am and what I'm doing. I hope you're all doing as well as I, and I can't wait until I see you all again.