...still choosing what lives and what dies. Farming is hard, and dirty, and mostly thankless, but it has it's own satisfactions. It also has costs. I sent my pigs off to the knacker-man yesterday, and I've been somewhat maudlin since, two nights ago, I tricked them into the horse trailer so that I could haul them off. Don't get me wrong, on the one had I'm relieved, filled with satisfaction, and happy that I'm no longer going to have to feed them twice a day, every day(how all of you folks who've bred managed to care for your children not knowing that one day in a month or two you'd finally get a chance to relax is beyond me).
WSU owns the farm. Not sure what that means for me, one way or the other. Part of the reason I've not been blogging regularly is that I didn't really know what to say about my situation, until we've worked out the details. Everytime I see or talk to anyone they, quite understandably, want to know what's going on, and I don't have a good answer, or even a bad one. Part of me is just fine with the situation, and the other part(the more rational part, I suppose), is frustrated as hell. I can think of a dozen things I'd like to do with my time, and I get to do many of them. It's not as though I'm miserable, far from it. I have great friends, peers, and mentors, often times those people overlap significantly.
Just got called away to phone farm...which is not quite so satisfying as across the fence farming, but, it is, after all, the twenty-first century. Four commas in that sentence; I think I have a problem. Most of my on-farm time these days is spent doing one of two things, moving hay, and moving mulch. I like both of these jobs rather a lot. I'm not doing either on a big commercial scale, so I can sort of do it on my own schedule. I don't have to hurry. I like this about my life above almost all else. Things move at a very human pace.
I have a very handsome devil of a ram, in with my two ewes, and a wether(castrated male) coming to the farm in the next week. Hopefully all that means, that in the spring, there will be beautiful lambs to take care of, and much fleece to shear and sell. I've just started learning to spin, which I can tell already is never going to take knitting's place as my handcraft of choice, but seems like something I should be able to do, if I'm going to own wool sheep.
The ducks are happily wandering around the orchard, and coming back to their enclosure each morning when I feed them. Each time I wonder if perhaps I should clips their wings, but I err on the side of complacency, and tell myself that they'll be best off if they're able to fly in the event of predators. Monday before Thanksgiving, I went to Spring Rain and killed turkeys with John, and after we finished that, we killed the last of my male ducks, which leaves me with not much to do aside from feeding the ladies, and the three boys who were spared in the hopes of having many clutches of baby ducks to rear next year.
As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, the pigs are, even as I type at Malco's Buxton meats, in Sandy Oregon, waiting for slaughter day, tomorrow. John brought the pigs down for me, since he had to make a trip with his lambs. I should have pork to sell in the near future, and bacon to eat for the first time, since I was in DC with Jason this winter. It's a weird life I live. I don't eat much that doesn't come from my immediate area. Notable exceptions being fancy cheese, and sometimes flour. I very occasionally buy out of season produce, but usually it's only because I've planned a fancy dinner, and we don't ever really get the summer produce here, like you do elsewhere, and so I don't feel as bad buying it.
A few weeks ago we drove(with a ferry's help) across the sound, and through the 'burbs, north of Seattle, to go to a brew pub for John's day. It was funny, there was traffic, and sprawl, and despite all the shit-talking that filled the car, I'll freely admit it did make me just the tiniest bit nostalgic for north Georgia, which is an odd feeling. This past Monday, me and some friends, went into Seattle for a square dance in Ballard. It was quite a journey just to go dancing, but that made it more fun in some ways. I still feel some days, like I'm missing out on an important part of the human experience by living in the country, having never spent any real time living in a city, but I'm not about to pack my bags and move to Portland(any idea how hard it is to get a full grown ram into a suitcase?) anytime in the near future.
I haven't done nearly as much writing as I used to, this year, and every time I do sit down, and put some words on the page I recall how important it is for me to do so, since it's often the only time I can actually say the things that constantly churn through my mind while I'm doing chores in the drizzle. It's been a long warm fall, and even now that winter has started in earnest we've still had only a few hard frosts out at the farm, which is more than I can say for all my friends who live on the mainland, in valleys which have been that cold for two months.
I know some of you are lamenting the lack of pictures, and I promise I'll come back in the next week or so, and give you all some visual satisfaction.
I think I've run out of things to say. I love you all, and although I haven't yet decided, after talking to you all recently, I find myself missing you all an awful lot. I'm still not sure that I'll be able to leave and come and visit at all this winter, but I'm trying to find a job, and if I manage to, and can save some money, we'll see if I can't find someone to watch the farm for me while I come and visit.
5.27.2012
Some pics to follow, but first a few(heh) words...
So...where am I, and what have I been doing?
I find myself, once more, in a new place, making new plans, and having new...adventures? They seem rather banal for adventures, but at the same time, I find them exciting even if I'm sure no one else would.
I've moved to a new farm. If I saw you over the winter, I probably mentioned the possibility to you, and after much thought, and hand-wringing(not really), I decided to go for it. Still taking the scary path. I'm in a good place, and I can say, without reservation, that if things go as they're meant to, that I'm making a positive difference in my little corner of the world.
Forty years ago, or thereabouts, Lisa Painter and Jeane Clenendon bought Twin Vista Ranch; thirty some-odd acres in the center of Marrowstone Island, overlooking Indian Island and the Olympic mountains in one direction, and with Mount Baker peeking over the horizon in the other. During their time they did many things with the land, and became an integral part of the community at large, ensuring, just as an example, that the island has it's own ambulance, and helping out members of the community who found themselves in hard times. Earlier this year, Jeane passed away, leaving Lisa to manage the farm on her own.
She decided, with her friends, that what she needed most, was to know that the farm will remain a working farm, in perpetuity, and so she began looking into the possibility of deeding the farm to WSU to become an educational facility. That arrangement, is still in the planning stages, but everyone who's involved is optimistic that it will happen in due course, and that everyone will benefit from it.
My part in all this, so far, at least, is to manage the farm, the day to day details, and to see that the transition goes smoothly, and that as WSU takes over the farm is refocused in a way that allows it to serve a new sort of purpose. Before, and for the last decade, the farm was a private enterprise, between thirty and forty cows, and was not especially profitable. It didn't need to be. Now, however, we're going to reduce the size of the herd, until it's a more appropriate number for a modern management style. We're going to return to cutting our own hay, rather than buying in hay from eastern Washington, and we're going to bring in other animals, sheep, pigs, ducks, each to serve a purpose, and provide another stream of revenue, for the farm(and for me). As WSU takes over we're going to move towards an intensive pasture management system, where the animals will be rapidly rotated through small paddocks, rather than larger fields, which will allow us to leave some sections of the farm for growing green manures, to improve the health of the soil, and we'll even experiment with growing dry-land cereal crops, which we'll be able to sell to local breweries, or perhaps use as feed for any poultry which we're raising on the farm. One of the other things we'll do is expand the orchard, which is currently thirty trees, all of them probably as old as I am, or more. We'll use the farm as a germ-plasm repository for older apple and nut varieties, which will allow local farmers to come and buy cuttings to graft their own trees, rather than being restricted to trees they buy from commercial producers. Finally the farm will serve as an educational facility for people who wish to learn about different aspects of modern agriculture and about alternative energy, which is a great passion of Lisa's. young farmers, and the interns who are participating in the FIELD program(which I completed last year) will be allowed to lease chunks of the farm for a fee, providing that they have a business plan, which will enable them to put their idea into practice without needing to buy property before they've got any hands-on experience.
These are all exciting prospects, if everything goes according to plan, I'll be able to learn so much, get some much needed management experience, and have the chance to do some of the things that I'm personally interested in doing, and feel passionate about. I'm going to be buying some pigs, in the next few weeks, and I'll be using them to prep the ground for the new orchard expansion(in addition to raising them to sell to my neighbors for bacon). I hope to buy a few sheep in the coming months, probably fiber sheep, rather than lambs for meat, and if I can find a source, I'd like to raise a small flock of ducks, preferably muscovies, although it might be harder to find a source for them, than some of the other varieties.
None of this will make me rich. It will, at best earn me enough money to maintain the life I have now, which is what I want. I like to think that in doing this I'm gaining valuable experience, which will enable me to better run a farm of my own some day in the not-too-distant future. I'm busy al the time these days, and I find myself having to make a conscious effort to take time for myself to relax, because it would be all to easy to work all the time, and while in that not-too-distant future, where I own a farm of my own, I will undoubtedly find myself doing just that, for the time being I'm still at at transitional phase. Working at Twin Vista Ranch, and working in my spare time at Spring Rain farm(to earn that day-to-day spending money). I'm building a greenhouse, right now, which has been a learning experience, to say the least. What have I learned? That drilling through metal sucks, and is dangerous, and the less said about it, the better.
I'm still knitting compulsively, and baking for myself and my friends. As the season begins to kick into high gear I look forward to having a gardens worth of food to eat, and am excited about all of the fruits and vegetables I'll have in the months to come. I look forward to having animals to take care of on a daily basis, as odd as that may sound. Raising livestock is such a fascinating thing. You make this commitment, and it becomes an integral part of the fabric of your life. It's a multiple times a day choice, and it's work that never really lets up, but it can be so rewarding. It's never in the moments that you think either. It's getting to sit in the pasture, next to newborn calf, in the weird half-light of the sunset, which, here in Washington, is unlike anywhere else I've experienced, the sky is clear and golden, dark storm clouds on the horizon, and cow chewing contentedly, cool grass under your palms. I'm lucky, and I try to not let myself forget it.
I find myself, once more, in a new place, making new plans, and having new...adventures? They seem rather banal for adventures, but at the same time, I find them exciting even if I'm sure no one else would.
I've moved to a new farm. If I saw you over the winter, I probably mentioned the possibility to you, and after much thought, and hand-wringing(not really), I decided to go for it. Still taking the scary path. I'm in a good place, and I can say, without reservation, that if things go as they're meant to, that I'm making a positive difference in my little corner of the world.
Forty years ago, or thereabouts, Lisa Painter and Jeane Clenendon bought Twin Vista Ranch; thirty some-odd acres in the center of Marrowstone Island, overlooking Indian Island and the Olympic mountains in one direction, and with Mount Baker peeking over the horizon in the other. During their time they did many things with the land, and became an integral part of the community at large, ensuring, just as an example, that the island has it's own ambulance, and helping out members of the community who found themselves in hard times. Earlier this year, Jeane passed away, leaving Lisa to manage the farm on her own.
She decided, with her friends, that what she needed most, was to know that the farm will remain a working farm, in perpetuity, and so she began looking into the possibility of deeding the farm to WSU to become an educational facility. That arrangement, is still in the planning stages, but everyone who's involved is optimistic that it will happen in due course, and that everyone will benefit from it.
My part in all this, so far, at least, is to manage the farm, the day to day details, and to see that the transition goes smoothly, and that as WSU takes over the farm is refocused in a way that allows it to serve a new sort of purpose. Before, and for the last decade, the farm was a private enterprise, between thirty and forty cows, and was not especially profitable. It didn't need to be. Now, however, we're going to reduce the size of the herd, until it's a more appropriate number for a modern management style. We're going to return to cutting our own hay, rather than buying in hay from eastern Washington, and we're going to bring in other animals, sheep, pigs, ducks, each to serve a purpose, and provide another stream of revenue, for the farm(and for me). As WSU takes over we're going to move towards an intensive pasture management system, where the animals will be rapidly rotated through small paddocks, rather than larger fields, which will allow us to leave some sections of the farm for growing green manures, to improve the health of the soil, and we'll even experiment with growing dry-land cereal crops, which we'll be able to sell to local breweries, or perhaps use as feed for any poultry which we're raising on the farm. One of the other things we'll do is expand the orchard, which is currently thirty trees, all of them probably as old as I am, or more. We'll use the farm as a germ-plasm repository for older apple and nut varieties, which will allow local farmers to come and buy cuttings to graft their own trees, rather than being restricted to trees they buy from commercial producers. Finally the farm will serve as an educational facility for people who wish to learn about different aspects of modern agriculture and about alternative energy, which is a great passion of Lisa's. young farmers, and the interns who are participating in the FIELD program(which I completed last year) will be allowed to lease chunks of the farm for a fee, providing that they have a business plan, which will enable them to put their idea into practice without needing to buy property before they've got any hands-on experience.
These are all exciting prospects, if everything goes according to plan, I'll be able to learn so much, get some much needed management experience, and have the chance to do some of the things that I'm personally interested in doing, and feel passionate about. I'm going to be buying some pigs, in the next few weeks, and I'll be using them to prep the ground for the new orchard expansion(in addition to raising them to sell to my neighbors for bacon). I hope to buy a few sheep in the coming months, probably fiber sheep, rather than lambs for meat, and if I can find a source, I'd like to raise a small flock of ducks, preferably muscovies, although it might be harder to find a source for them, than some of the other varieties.
None of this will make me rich. It will, at best earn me enough money to maintain the life I have now, which is what I want. I like to think that in doing this I'm gaining valuable experience, which will enable me to better run a farm of my own some day in the not-too-distant future. I'm busy al the time these days, and I find myself having to make a conscious effort to take time for myself to relax, because it would be all to easy to work all the time, and while in that not-too-distant future, where I own a farm of my own, I will undoubtedly find myself doing just that, for the time being I'm still at at transitional phase. Working at Twin Vista Ranch, and working in my spare time at Spring Rain farm(to earn that day-to-day spending money). I'm building a greenhouse, right now, which has been a learning experience, to say the least. What have I learned? That drilling through metal sucks, and is dangerous, and the less said about it, the better.
I'm still knitting compulsively, and baking for myself and my friends. As the season begins to kick into high gear I look forward to having a gardens worth of food to eat, and am excited about all of the fruits and vegetables I'll have in the months to come. I look forward to having animals to take care of on a daily basis, as odd as that may sound. Raising livestock is such a fascinating thing. You make this commitment, and it becomes an integral part of the fabric of your life. It's a multiple times a day choice, and it's work that never really lets up, but it can be so rewarding. It's never in the moments that you think either. It's getting to sit in the pasture, next to newborn calf, in the weird half-light of the sunset, which, here in Washington, is unlike anywhere else I've experienced, the sky is clear and golden, dark storm clouds on the horizon, and cow chewing contentedly, cool grass under your palms. I'm lucky, and I try to not let myself forget it.
1.09.2012
In which one year ends, another begins, and we respond to the predictions of impending doom...
...by saying in a loud and calm voice, "No, Virginia, the world is not coming to an end." Because, and where I live this is an unpopular opinion, it isn't. There will be no great shift in the way the whole world is, how we live our lives, or the choices we make, alas. It would be nice to think it will happen, but it won't.
How was 2011?
That's a great question. For the most part? It was incredible. I did many new things, learned so much, and made many new friends. I found another place where I'm accepted and valued, and where, if I so decide, I could easily settle down as a productive member of the community. Unfortunately, just as the lack of an impending armageddon leaves things more complicated than they might otherwise be, so too does my inability to say for certain that this is the place I want to be. It would be easier to commit to this place if there was a clear path toward the vision I have for my life, but I just can't see it, despite having looked long and hard for it.
So I have tough choices to make in the weeks ahead. I'm applying for a number of jobs, since I don't really feel I can continue along on the path of labor exchanged for knowledge(not that there is anything wrong with that path; in fact, it's probably the most valuable method of learning the skills in the fields in which jobs are hard to come by), and I need to find a position where I'm learning new, valuable skills, but also getting paid for it. I would be perfectly happy to continue doing what I'm doing if I thought it would lead to me finding a farm, but I just can't see it. So I'm going to find work, doing something I care about in a place where I think I might be happy, and if it means leaving the peninsula behind, then I have no choice.
The other possible benefit of being forced away from this place I've come to love is the possibility of discovering that I have to come back, or learning that there might be other places which will provide the same sense of friendship and community that I've found here. It is also possible, that in my searching, the next few weeks that I'll find a way to stay where I am, maybe I'll find the perfect piece of property for sale, and I'll just need to find a way to pay for it, or perhaps I'll meet the farmer who is looking for the next generation to take over from her, and to run the farm into the future.
What kind of farm do I want? Well, and this is pretty amorphous, since it all depends on where I end up, but since I do have such a strong affinity for the PacNorWe it seems safe to assume that this would all work wherever. I'd like a medium-sized small farm, but if there was a way for me to buy a larger one, or expand as the years go by, I'd be perfectly happy with that. Twenty, forty acres, more or less, I want an orchard, a big one, with big fruit and nut trees. I'd like to keep livestock, pigs and ducks, goats and sheep, maybe a cow or three. I'd like a big old barn, but accept the fact that I may need to settle for a big new barn. I'd like to live in a place where I'm not so far away from a major metropolitan are that day trips are ruled out. I'd like to live in a place with a vibrant enough culture that tourism is a factor, since what I really want, more than anything else, is to have a place like Rockhouse, where people come, and bring their children, who can then come with their children when they get older. I'd like to be able to establish that sort of continuity, and to give people that opportunity to see what it is to live on a farm, and to have a real community of people who rely upon you, and upon whom you rely.
That's the most important thing. It's something I always felt was missing, living in the burbs, and one of the reasons I am so anti-suburbia now(that's a whole 'nother rant, though, one I'll be happy to share with you if you're interested). I'd like a large enough farm in a successful enough community that U can invite some of the incredible people whom I've met in the last few years to join me. To give them the opportunity to do the things that will make them happy, and which will enable whatever farm I'm given the responsibility to care for more vibrant and successful. Would I like to have a restaurant, either country or fancy? I would. Do I want to be able to run a bed and breakfast or a hostel for young people interested in farming? Absolutely. Do I want to do everything I can to come up with systems which will enable me and mine to do this in ways that don't leave us exhausted and broken? I'm going to have to.
None of those things can happen, though, until I find a farm, and make it into the place that I'm envisioning. It will take more hard work than I can even imagine. I know it, but I can't wait for it. I want to be doing it now. I'd like to be out in the cool grey mist pruning apple trees, slopping pigs, and killing a goose for dinner. I know the life I'm looking for is not for everyone, but I do think that in building it for myself I'll be able to enrich the lives of so many others, so that when my nieces and nephews are obnoxious teenagers my cousins will have someplace to send them in the summertime where I can work them to the point of exhaustion and give them the opportunity to learn a few life lessons that aren't always available if you grow up in the city or the 'burbs. A place where we can come together as a family, and enjoy the fruit of the land, and each other.
We'll see what the future holds. I'm not scared of the end of the world, because for me the world is constantly beginning anew. It's one of the irrefutable lessons of the farmer. Life and death, and life again.
How was 2011?
That's a great question. For the most part? It was incredible. I did many new things, learned so much, and made many new friends. I found another place where I'm accepted and valued, and where, if I so decide, I could easily settle down as a productive member of the community. Unfortunately, just as the lack of an impending armageddon leaves things more complicated than they might otherwise be, so too does my inability to say for certain that this is the place I want to be. It would be easier to commit to this place if there was a clear path toward the vision I have for my life, but I just can't see it, despite having looked long and hard for it.
So I have tough choices to make in the weeks ahead. I'm applying for a number of jobs, since I don't really feel I can continue along on the path of labor exchanged for knowledge(not that there is anything wrong with that path; in fact, it's probably the most valuable method of learning the skills in the fields in which jobs are hard to come by), and I need to find a position where I'm learning new, valuable skills, but also getting paid for it. I would be perfectly happy to continue doing what I'm doing if I thought it would lead to me finding a farm, but I just can't see it. So I'm going to find work, doing something I care about in a place where I think I might be happy, and if it means leaving the peninsula behind, then I have no choice.
The other possible benefit of being forced away from this place I've come to love is the possibility of discovering that I have to come back, or learning that there might be other places which will provide the same sense of friendship and community that I've found here. It is also possible, that in my searching, the next few weeks that I'll find a way to stay where I am, maybe I'll find the perfect piece of property for sale, and I'll just need to find a way to pay for it, or perhaps I'll meet the farmer who is looking for the next generation to take over from her, and to run the farm into the future.
What kind of farm do I want? Well, and this is pretty amorphous, since it all depends on where I end up, but since I do have such a strong affinity for the PacNorWe it seems safe to assume that this would all work wherever. I'd like a medium-sized small farm, but if there was a way for me to buy a larger one, or expand as the years go by, I'd be perfectly happy with that. Twenty, forty acres, more or less, I want an orchard, a big one, with big fruit and nut trees. I'd like to keep livestock, pigs and ducks, goats and sheep, maybe a cow or three. I'd like a big old barn, but accept the fact that I may need to settle for a big new barn. I'd like to live in a place where I'm not so far away from a major metropolitan are that day trips are ruled out. I'd like to live in a place with a vibrant enough culture that tourism is a factor, since what I really want, more than anything else, is to have a place like Rockhouse, where people come, and bring their children, who can then come with their children when they get older. I'd like to be able to establish that sort of continuity, and to give people that opportunity to see what it is to live on a farm, and to have a real community of people who rely upon you, and upon whom you rely.
That's the most important thing. It's something I always felt was missing, living in the burbs, and one of the reasons I am so anti-suburbia now(that's a whole 'nother rant, though, one I'll be happy to share with you if you're interested). I'd like a large enough farm in a successful enough community that U can invite some of the incredible people whom I've met in the last few years to join me. To give them the opportunity to do the things that will make them happy, and which will enable whatever farm I'm given the responsibility to care for more vibrant and successful. Would I like to have a restaurant, either country or fancy? I would. Do I want to be able to run a bed and breakfast or a hostel for young people interested in farming? Absolutely. Do I want to do everything I can to come up with systems which will enable me and mine to do this in ways that don't leave us exhausted and broken? I'm going to have to.
None of those things can happen, though, until I find a farm, and make it into the place that I'm envisioning. It will take more hard work than I can even imagine. I know it, but I can't wait for it. I want to be doing it now. I'd like to be out in the cool grey mist pruning apple trees, slopping pigs, and killing a goose for dinner. I know the life I'm looking for is not for everyone, but I do think that in building it for myself I'll be able to enrich the lives of so many others, so that when my nieces and nephews are obnoxious teenagers my cousins will have someplace to send them in the summertime where I can work them to the point of exhaustion and give them the opportunity to learn a few life lessons that aren't always available if you grow up in the city or the 'burbs. A place where we can come together as a family, and enjoy the fruit of the land, and each other.
We'll see what the future holds. I'm not scared of the end of the world, because for me the world is constantly beginning anew. It's one of the irrefutable lessons of the farmer. Life and death, and life again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)