Remember, remember, the fifth of November...

Anyone have a big exciting Guy Fawkes bonfire? We did, but only incidentally. It was a gray and rainy Saturday, and farmer Kelly took the opportunity to set the burn pile alight. I was working market, however, and so I missed the festivities. It's November, which means it's NanoWriMo time again. I think the story I've started is probably more of a novella than a full-fledged novel, but that's just fine. I've been writing everyday, but my output has been severely reduced over the summer, and now I'm finding it really challenging to find the time to write seventeen hundred words a day, but I'm managing(even after starting over after two days and having to make up the page count, because I'm a stickler).

On the farm we've been continuing the same program we've been on. We're taking in the last of summer crops; we took in the flax and field corn this past week. The corn didn't do great, but we've gotten enough to make cornmeal for the farm, and I think that was really our intention. The sunflowers didn't make it. They went moldy before they finished maturing, and were consigned to the compost on the same day I harvested the corn. Tant pis.

Flax, wheat, and corn:



I've been as busy as ever. Contra dancing, knitting and crocheting, reading, both fiction and some seminal farming books, cooking, baking, and pickling, and yoga. Yesterday, Maggie and I went hiking in the Elwha, which is really beautiful. The mountains are just beginning to show signs of snow at the peaks, and the deciduous trees and ferns make an incredible contrast with teh vibrantly green moss and Doug Firs. There has been a great deal of reading aloud, including, but not limited to, a read aloud children's book group, which was a great deal of fun. I read several Just So Stories, and some poems from Where The Sidewalk Ends. That was the sort of book club I can get behind.

What else am I reading, you say? Why these:

The beginning of my first knitting project:

I'll post more pics of my handiwork when I've finished.

On a recent Monday off(Hooray November) I spent some time walking through the outdoor sculpture garden in PA. I took some pics, which I present without commentary:


That one's my favorite(What? Oh yeah, no commentary. I did say that. Fine. I retract my previous statement.).

Some pics of some recent bakes; I've been doing even more bread than usual the last few weeks. Ciabatta al Funghi:

Roasted Beet Bread:

Perhaps the simplest, but most delicious loaf I've made since I came to the PacNorWe. A pain au levain:

These are bay laurel cuttings that Kelly took from a job, and is rooting next to the greenhouse. The day he put these in the ground, the wind carried the scent of them over to the wash station where Kay and I were cleaning produce, and all day long we'd get a whiff, and wind up smiling like schoolkids. It was fantastic. If you've never had the chance to smell real fresh bay, not California bay, but the Mediterranean variety, seek it out. It's a whole other thing.

Bodie and Willow, Newfoundland and Pony, from next door:


Some shots from around town and the farm, which make me smile; just looking at them is enough to make me smell woodsmoke:





It's easy enough for me to remember to be thankful for where I am. In considering what I'm to do once the farm season is over for well and for good, I've been thinking about the logistics of returning to Georgia long enough to grab my bike, and drive across the southern edge of the country, but haven;t quite worked out the details of what that trip would entail(aside from wool and waterproofs). It's all still theoretical, but the more I consider it, the more I like the idea. It would give me the chance to visit with everyone, and catch up, and it would be an experience unlike anything else, I'm sure. I hope you guys are all doing as well as I am. I really miss you, and wish we had the chance to talk more often(i.e. at all), but I know we're all busy. I love you, and hope you're all looking forward to the holidays; I can't wait to see some of you in California for Christmas. I just want to know, who's bringing the tree?

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.