Is it dark where you're at?

Because apparently, this far north? It gets dark, right early, and it's only November, I shudder to think what it will be like in January. Despite that, I have to say this place is incredible. Even on a gray drizzly day, perhaps especially on a gray and drizzly day, this place has a beauty...you know what? I'll shut up and let the pictures speak for themselves.

From my trip up to Hurricane Ridge today.




It's not really that snowy; in fact, those are pictures of every square inch of snow there was.

What kind of Mushrooms are these? I don't know. They looked delicious, however. Also on the mushroom front...pickled chanterelles:




I've not been doing a great deal, you know, the usual:

Knitting and crocheting:

Baking(roasted potato fendu and peanut butter cookies):


Also in the kitchen, the controlled spoiling of foods, the powers of fermentation...cider in the process of hardening, and milk in the process of seperating, that I might use the whey in further fermentation projects, and the curds in the name of cheese:

Farmering, which this week mostly involved planting garlic:



Also harvested the last of the apples, this week:

Pink pearl...yeah:

I've been doing really well, but I'll freely admit that the early darkness can be a little wearing. It's fine as long as I have my friends, but when they're not around it can be a little...frustrating.

I'm enjoying the opportunity to work market on Saturdays. I'm getting to know my regular customers, and my fellow vendors, and it makes for a nice change of pace from working on the farm. We are rapidly approaching the time when farm work become very difficult due to the weather, but despite that fact we seem to all be in good spirits.

I like the story I'm writing for NanoWriMo, I think it will probably turn out to be a novella, actually around fifty thousand words when it's complete. I hit the halfway mark today, right on track. All I can say is that it's a good thing I'm not trying to do this in July. That would have broken me. I've got a lot of stories to edit once this is done, and I'm giving serious consideration to taking another crack at rewriting my first novel, given the experience I've just had, I feel like I could write it a more authentic voice, and I have an idea of how to fix the ending, but all of that will have to wait until December at the earliest. A preview:

That's my life, these days. Hanging out with Maggie, and the kids down the street at the Lazy J, who, after an incredibly productive summer, are quite justifiably exhausted. I'm doing my best to reward them all with cookies, and my company, although whether that last qualifies as a reward is up for debate.

I've made my reservations for Christmas in California, and since I'm not driving I guess I won't be able to haul a tree a thousand miles for aesthetic reasons, but it just made more sense to fly. Truly excited to see everyone again, and to celebrate with Grandma Pooh and Saba. Sunshine might be nice, as well.

I've got preliminary plans for Thanksgiving that I'm totally jazzed about More on that when I know for certain what's going on, or I might just leave y'all in suspense, and share after the fact...let it suffice to say you needn't worry I'll be alone and depressive on the holiday.

I hope you all have big plans as well, and I hope you're enjoying your lives, and if you want to talk, feel free to call or e-mail, and if you have, and I haven't gotten back to to you yet, I promise I'm working on it, but the allure of the yarn is becoming hard for me to resist. Not sure what that's all about. Love you guys. Miss you, and hopefully I'll get to see at least some of you, soon.

Have you ever found yourself nostalgic for something you never had?

That's how I feel about Lake Crescent, but that's not what brought this thought to mind. What caused this line of introspection was this...


Some pictures from the Wednesday market in Sequim, booth manned by my co-intern Ruth:


After said market, I drove East, around the sound, and wound up trying to go to a show in Seattle, but, and this I find both perturbing and absolutely hilarious; I couldn't park the van. No joke. I spent an hour trying, both on the street and in lots, and it was useless. C'est la vie. I crashed in my van, and flew across the country back to Georgia.

I almost typed 'back home', to Georgia, but as you all must know by now, as much as I love it there, and as much as I miss all my friends and family, that place isn't my home anymore. It doesn't cease to amuse me that it took my leaving to truly develop an appreciation for it, and it felt great to go back, but it felt very much like going on Vacation, not returning home. I got to do almost everything I wanted to, for such a short trip. I got to see my old work compatriots, and I got to bake them cookies. I went for a hike at Vickery Creek with Dahveed, while J and the girls got a nail-job. I made bread for my family, and I got to eat all the things I had hoped to: pulled pork and mac and cheese at BBQ1, pizza at Five Seasons, shrimp and grits at Relish(not to mention biscuits and gravy). I got to drink a beer at five seasons, and I got a Sweetwater and a Terrapin at the wedding. What can I say about the wedding aside from the obvious? It was fantastic, Rachel was beautiful, and it was great to see everyone who made it. I'm so glad I was there, and I can't wait for the chance to go back and see everyone again.

From my first bake after returning from Georgia, Triticale Flax bread, and gluten-free chocolate chip cookies:


The greenhouse, look at how tall those tomatoes are:


Thai bird chilis. These things are ridiculous. I sometimes eat one as a post-breakfast treat(or punishment):

A blue hubbard, bigger than my head, by quite a bit:

A forest of leeks:


And maybe my favorite thing we grew on the farm this season, Cupani sweet peas, beautiful, fragrant, and utterly impractical from a market standpoint. An example of how sometimes it's alright to save the best things for yourself:



From my walk this morning. I stayed at the barn dance last night until the wee hours. I even danced, or as close to it as I'm capable of, at least. It was fun as always. There waspotluck, and strong coffee, good beer, homemade wine, and of course music.

I actually am not going for a hike today, although I probably should. Instead I'm staying in, reading, writing, and making a pot of soup. Here are some pictures from my last weekend hike, up to Hurricane Hill:



It was an odd hike, once I got to the top I was surrounded on all sides by a misty bubble. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world. I couldn't see beyond ten feet, and if a bear had chosen to devour me, I would never have seen it coming. Still it was a beautiful walk, the leaves had just begun to turn in earnest, which process is continuing now, and making me simultaneously happy and melancholy.

I can't believe my summer on the farm is coming to an end, and while there is still plenty of work to be done on the farm, it's a different sort of work, equally important, and equally satisfying, but without the instant gratification of summer crops. We're getting the food harvested, and tilling, and planting cover crops, which will simultaneously protect and enrich the soil over the winter. Soon enough it will be time to plant garlic, which will be a major project.

Oh, and anyone recognize these?:

I'll get them in the mail as soon as I can. Sorry about that.

It was so good to see you all, and I'm sure I'll see many of you again in December. As soon as I have any concrete plans I'll be sure to let everyone know. I love you all. Hope you're enjoying life as much as I am.

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.