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.

The appearance of interns, and the impending emergence of summer...

I am not Alone!

Wow. What a week. I've meant to post long before now, but I just haven't had the chance. I meant to write a long, in-depth post about my second journey to Lake Crescent, last Sunday, but i think I'll limit my discussion to a few brief points.

The day started out gray and gloomy, i.e. Aaron's favorite sort of day. Kay and I met up with Maggie, who works on the farm on Fridays, and the rest of the week at the Olympic Park Institute. We went to Salt Creek at Crescent Bay? and walked amongst the tide pools for a couple of hours. It was fascinating, and Maggie and her friends are amazingly knowledgeable; working for the Institute they are used to sharing that knowledge.

After our fun amongst the tide pools we headed to Lake Crescent, and the Institute. This is where I began to realize that I wasn't going to have a just another fun day of hiking, but something better, more satisfying. The sun came out during our travel time, and the wind picked up. The lake was as blue as can be imagined, and it's normally glassy surface was rippled with a constant stream of whitecaps. The institute is the very stereotype of a summer camp, lodges and cabins on the lakeside; it evoked an instant nostalgia, of the sort the recalls every camp memory, and the whole coming of age genre of movies and literature.

We walked along the lake, and through the woods to Merrymere falls, which you may recall I've been to before, although from a different direction. Once we reached the falls, Maggie leaned over surreptitiously, and mentioned that there was a way to get to the top of the falls, but the trail wasn't an official path. I wasn't about to pass up that chance, so we hiked, and got a view that I'm sure far fewer people ever get to see. it was really magical. There's something about being on the mountainside in the PacNorWe, that I find profoundly satisfying. Every time I find myself there I feel like I would be happy to never leave.

After our hike was done we went onto Le Sage, an old home on the shore of Lake Crescent, owned by the park, and leased on a rotating basis to the educators who work at the institute. The whole time we were there I stared in disbelief that this amazing home, with a view as fine as any in the world, I'm sure, that these people, my peers, or younger, got to live in this place, and that their job is to teach an endless succession of schoolkids their love of the natural world in general, and this one place in particular. It makes me really happy to know that such a place exists outside of Hollywood, or our imaginations, this archetypal place where group after group of kids have formative experiences in an environment that is still seems unreal to me.

That was the short version. Sheesh, listen to me ramble on. So what's happening on the farm, you ask? We've gotten a lot done lately. Planted a field of winter sqaush, and got a whole mess of weeding done. We've been having an stretch of sunny days lately which means, we've had to spend more time than usual moving the water around. Kelly's planning on upgrading the irrigation in the next week, which will be a real help for all of us.

There was a formative farm experience on Wednesday? I was sitting in the Johnston farm Internet Cafe(the Gazebo), when Kay and Ruth came around the corner to ask for my help. The chicken had all somehow gotten out of teh coop. We spent the next half an hour catching chickens. I was mostly herding, while Ruth caught most of them. She's the last intern of the season, a classically trained violinist, who dates one of the Johnston's neighbors, who happens to be an incredible fiddler in his own right. She had chickens when she was younger so has chicken catching skills that make mine look strictly amateurish.

I caught one of the two roosters, the handome Bantam, and got him back into their area, and turned around in time to see Kay and Ruthie pulling the other rooster, the gorgeous white one, from under Kay's car, dead. It was a sad moment, but we had chicken to catch, so we didn't really consider what to do with him, until we got teh rest of the hens recaptured. Once we had done that, I presented Kelly with the deceased cock, and he said that we needed to bury it deep in the compost, unless one of us wanted to deal with the business of turning it from lievstock into food.

The girls, being vegetarian and vegan, opted to skip that, but after a moment's hard consideration, I volunteered to do the dirty work. Kelly was surprised, I think, but It seemed more respectful of me, to do what had to be done. Kelly helped with the initial butchery, removing the head, tail, and wings, and leaving me to remove the feathers, and to finish teh butchery. I think that though he's obviously killed a chicken or two in his day, it's clearly not a job he relished. I was amazed by how little the whole process botehred me. I ended up the evening spattered with blood, and with feathers stuck here and there.

I dressed teh bird and got it into the fridge, and spent the next two days making the best stock I've ever made in my life, using every trick and technique in my,rather impressive, he says, modestly, arsenal. Then I made matzoh balls. Everyone said that soup was the only thing the rooster would be any good for, and while it's true that the breasts were a little tough, they tasted quite good, and the thighs and drumsticks, even after half a day in the stock pot were flavored quite nicely.

I liked that rooster, you have to understand. I thought he was beautiful, a proud creature, and one with whom I shared the sunrise for the last month and a half. I did what I did out of a sense of obligation. A need to ensure that though it was sad that he died an untimely death, at least it would not be totally in vain, and that I would derive nourishment, physical and mental from the occurence.

Still having a great time out here; had a couple of particularly stressful days this week, but we worked through them, and will keep trying to get as much done as we can. In addition to winter sqaush we finally got the summer sqaush and cucumbers in the ground, and transplanted the bush tomatoes out into teh field. The wheat has started to sprout, and the potatoes have been hilled up. The straweberries are starting to come ripe, and there can be no doubt that summer has arrived in the PacNorWe at last.

David is in Bellingham, and we're going to figure out a way to get together, hopefully soon. I'm excited at the prospect of seeing him again after so long.

I love you all, and I'm still working on answering e-mails; I know it's been awhile for some of you, but I promise they are coming, but I've been busy, and it doesn't seem like the work will be slowing down anytime in the near future. Love y'all, miss you, and hope you're well. Next time, I'll tackle some more faqs(frequently, heh). I'll leave you with a few pics to tide you over until next time, mi familia, .

The latest loaves, a challah, and a buckwheat pain au levain:


Cucumbers, and summer sqaush:


Look at how my peas have grown:

A tidepool, I know it's hard to convey scale in an image like this, but those sea stars were all about the size of a record album:



This is the second time I've been to Merrymere falls, and I managed to snap a single pic for your enjoyment, but I hardly think it manages to capture the experience:


And in closing, strawberries, most of which I ate with the cream that separated out of my milk, this morning for breakfast:


In closing, Happy Father's Day, Papa Miguel, I love you.

Images of things to come...

As I said in my last post, here is an update concerning life on the farm. Mostly concentrating on the work we've done in the last week, and some pics anticipating the things we'll be doing soon. I spent the last week doing the things that have become my regular chores. We finally finished weeding the garlic, and what a triumphant feeling that was. Of course by the time harvest begins to approach we'll probably have to do it all over again. C'est la vie. Life on a farm, especially one that doesn't use the RoundupTM. Yesterday I weeded strawberries, and it struck me how the skills I developed weeding the garlic simply don't translate. They're too different.

Our garlic, twenty rows most containing two or three varieties(plus some shallots, and bunching onions):


Berries - Straw:


Berries - Goose(two varieties):



Berries - Black (just coming into bloom, won't be ready to harvest until the end of the summer):


Berries - Blue:



Berries - Rasp:


Some apples (growing on the beautiful ornamental branching trees which will fence off the blackberry patch one day) :

The chickpeas we transplanted on Tuesday:

One of the twenty-odd varieties of taters which we're growing:


Brassicas (mostly Brussel Sprouts) waiting to go into the ground:


My peas have grown so much since we got them trellised:


A view from the roof of the barn, which is still under construction, but is starting to look really nice:


The first pizza I baked in my little RV oven, sauteed Bok Choy, with roasted mushrooms and peppers, topped half with feta and half Havarti:


The salad I ate for dinner last night, topped with a fried egg, the yolk of which was so golden-orange I almost stopped to take a picture rather than eat the thing:


So am I a farmer? I don't know. I do know that I'm loving this. Even the days which are frustrating, I feel like I'm doing something respectable, and I feel like I'm a part of a community here, which is a really special feeling, especially coming from the isolated islands of the suburbs. Everyone has gone out of their way to make me feel welcome, and to include me in their activities. I keep having these moments where I pause, look up at the mountains, and shake my head, grinning at the fact that I'm here. I hope you are all doing well, and if you have any questions for me, leave a comment and I'll endeavor to answer them as best as I can. I love you all. I miss you.

My what a shocking afternoon...

No, really. I was trying in vain to get the pigs to eat from my hands, and I accidentally bumped the electric fence. If there had been anyone watching I have no doubt that they would still be laughing at me. I must have jumped three feet straight back from the fence waving my arm above of my head, and dancing back and forth from one foot to the other. Not sure why, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time.

Ever since i realized that I can get WiFi on the Johnston's gazebo, I've appropriated it as my spot, and when I got out here this afternoon I found that Christie had kindly put out a table and a chair for me. She's so sweet. It was a beautiful day, sunny, and seventy. I've been working hard, and the farm is starting to look really amazing. Fields are being tilled, produce is going into the ground.

Here are some pictures from the Dungeness Spit, where I took a hike last Sunday, my day of rest:


This tree trunk was over one Tom in diameter:



Still turning out loaf after loaf of bread, despite the difficulties of cooking in the trailer's oven, I'm achieving respectable results. Take a look:

What have we been doing, farm work? Do we do that? Oh yeah, peas, trellised, lettuce transplanted, and a compost pile built. I did the construction. Using tools. I know, it seems unlikely, but I was there. It happened. Proof:


Our compost to be, this pile is over six feet tall, and about thirty five feet long. I built the pipe system used to blow air through the pile:


The veggies we started the other day have sprouted. Squash, or as they say around these parts sqaursh:


And field corn; this stuff seriously looked liked pomegranate seeds, gorgeous:

A view of the new cupola atop the barn:

And to finish up off for the evening, how about a produce shot? Some cutting celery, shortly before being finely diced, sauteed and added to an omelet which was so yellow it was hard to believe:

It's late now, and I'd best leave you for now, but I'll reiterate all of my salient points. I love and miss you all. I'm having fun, working hard, eating well, getting my writing done, baking bread as much as ever, and I imagine none of that will be changing anytime in the immediate future.