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.

In which there was meant to be an update, but instead there will just be a new post cause I'm felling lazy...

I think that was rather a fine explanation. Not much to say, just posting some pics of what's been going on about the farm.

The display garden, freshly weeded, and with a whole mess of new beds for planting summer crops, and lots and lots of onions.:

The potatoes are in bloom:

Two rows of wheat(Polk), with a row of blueberries in between:


The few tomatoes that will ever see the out of doors(they don't look so hot, but we're optimistic that they'll be alright, assuming the weather holds):

The winter squash:



The pumpkin patch, courtesy yours truly, and my co-intern Ruth:


My pigs:

And since there haven't been any food shots yet, a pre-grilled cheese sandwich(comte, dijon, fresh pepper, on oatmeal sourdough):

Enjoy, boys and girls, and I'll be back to share my further adventures, whenever I have a chance(and something interesting to report). Love y'all.

Here we are...

...at the Blackbird Cafe, on Sunday morning, as is my wont. Not a whole lot to report this week. We've been busy, but I don't expect anything about that to change until, oh, about November. This week we got the rest of the display garden raked into beds, and began planting more alliums: onions, shallots, and leeks. We planted another session of herbs and lettuces: parsley, dill, arugula, and cilantro. We did another bed each of wheat and flax. We got the winter squash into the ground, although we still have another hundred hills to plant, and got some land cleared to plant pumpkins yesterday, which was something of an adventure.

We, Ruth and I, cleared an overgrown weed patch, trucked in compost, tilled the earth, built mounds, covered the whole lot in black plastic, and put the gourds in the ground. In other words, we spent the day doing that which farmers do. Transforming wilderness into something else, something productive. It was a satisfying experience, but tiring. The tilling part of the morning, was especially exciting. I'll post some pictures next time, but for now, if you can imagine a berm, four feet tall, and twenty five or thirty feet long, with gently sloping sides, covered in thistles, you'll have some idea of what we had to contend with. I got to invent a new sport, which I've been referring to as eXtreme tilling, whereby you till at a steep up and down angle, pushing a piece of heavy machinery around on a berm, much like a snowboarder in a halfpipe. Tiring, but fun in a perverse sort of way, too.

I've been doing a lot of baking lately. Having another pair of hands on the farm is such a relief for all of us, and I'm only too happy to keep them supplied with a steady stream of bread and cookies. It's amazing what an extra pair of people is allowing us to accomplish. On Tuesday we all gathered in my trailer for pizza and beer, and it was really awesome to be able to cook for the people whom I'll be spending so much of my time with over the next few months. We even made a desert pizza to finish off the evening. I'll try and get some pictures of people, so you can put faces to names, but I feel weird asking people to pose. I broke my bike the other day; I had a little wipeout, but finally got a new chain installed today, and so will probably take a ride rather than go for a hike, but my plans may change depending on the weather, which hasn't quite settled as much as Kelly would like.

On Friday Maggie gave me the training guide used by a nearby teaching farm, and I've been rapidly devouring it ever since. It's absolutely fascinating to read about the radically differing theories about how best to grow, and I'm learning a lot. I haven't been able to do as much reading as I'd like since I've arrived, but I'm finding it easier to get into a textbook than the fiction I've been plodding through lately. It's funny how our tastes change as we age, no?

I noticed that Matt left me a comment on a post from a few weeks ago. Hey there, little man. How are you? I love you and your sisters, and miss you all, too. In answer to your question, Lake Crescent is about half an hour, maybe forty minutes away from the farm, but there are other forests even closer. The nearest entrance to the Olympic National Forest is only twenty minutes away, and has a plethora of trails for me to explore. That banana slug was huge, six or seven inches long, and a disturbing shade of yellow, not bright like an banana skin, but more of a pastel shade, reminiscent of the color of the banana itself. I'm hope you guys are doing well and enjoying your summer vacation. I'm enjoying myself, but I can promise you, that this is no vacation.

I know this is going to come as a surprise, but I have no pictures to share. My camera died, and I haven't gotten new batteries yet, but I'll do that this afternoon, and I'll update this with some pics from the last week. Until then I wish you all the best, but I've got to be going, though this is Somebody's Sabbath(tm), I have things to do, and no time to rest, which is just fine by me. I love you all, and hope you're well, and look forward to seeing you in the relatively near future. I can't believe I've been here for almost two months already. Astonishing.

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.

On the subject of rain...

If you know me well, you're undoubtedly well aware of my fondness for rain, and rainy days. Not just for the obvious comfort of curling up inside on a gray day, with a cup of hot tea and a good book, though that is perfectly lovely, but the rain itself. The rain walk is one of my favorite pastimes, always has been, but I knew, esoterically at least, that the PacNorWe is a whole other kind of rainy than I'm used to, and I wondered often before I left for my journey, if day after day of working in the rain would dampen my enthusiasm. Did you see what I did there? Heh. Clever, me.

Well having done just that, more than once, I can say beyond doubt that I still love rainy days, and while working in the rain, often sucks; there is also a certain satisfaction to be found in it as well. As with any repetative task you fall into a sort of zen groove, weeding garlic or potatoes and your mind is elsewhere, writing or editing, or just appreciating the beauty of your surroundings. As long as the rain doesn't pass the threshold from drizzle or shower, to actual rain, the pleasant aspects far outweigh the negatives.

On my last day off it was free entry day up at the Olympic National Park, so I took the opportunity to take a short rain hike, the first one I've had a chance to take since I started working here. I'll keep the pictures to a minimum, but there are a couple I think are worth sharing:


Look! A banana slug! Weird! Gross!:


We've been getting some planting done, but we're definitely behind schedule. This week we planted five hundred ears of corn, and two thousand heads of celery(200 of which are celeriac, awesome). We planted Four beds of wheat, and a bed of flax. Kelly and Christie's daughter is graduating tonight, and so there are huge numbers of family coming this weekend, so in addition to a full day of farm work, they've been running around like headless chickens, cleaning, building a fire-pit, and other chores necessary to host a huge family gathering. I can't wait.

My first co-intern has arrived. Her name is Kay(sp?), and she came here from Texas, but spent most of her life in Connecticut. She's a recent college graduate, and has never done any work of this sort, either. She's a hard worker, and fast, so that's great for all of us. On Sunday her roomate, our third intern will be arriving, and we're all looking forward to having another pair of hands to help with the work.

I'm doing a lot of baking; I know, shocking, and I've been working on translating many of my standard cookie recipes to gluten free versions, to allow one of my new friends to eat his share of the baked goods. I'm also recipe testing the recipes from a baking book that one of my fellow Freshloafers is having published later this year, which is a fun excercise.

Last night I went to another potluck, on another farm. There was much fantastic food, as I've come to expect. Copper River Salmon, several different ways, fresh baked bread, baked by someone other than me(cool), and I baked a Banh Chuoi(Vietnamese banana cake) for some new people. After we ate, and had a farm tour there was a sing-along. No. Really. A sing-along. It was like being in a different century, and yet it was profoundly cool. These people were clearly passionate about sharing time together, and entertaining themselves, and having fun. They were pretty talented to boot. It was a perfect example of a happy melding of the old and the new. Sure, they were doing this very nineteenth century thing, making their own music, rather than just plugging in one of their iPods, but when they were inspired to play a song none of them knew the music for, all they had to do was hit the internet, and moments later they were gathered around and playing.

It was a really fun time, and yet another example of being rewarded for stepping outside my comfort zone. I've been endeavoring to accept as many invitations to hang out, or to go to a show, or see some art, as I can manage. Things are busy, busier than I've ever been, and I hope you're all keeping busy as well. I miss you, and I love you, and I hope to hear from you all if you have a chance. If you've sent me an e-mail, I promise you've got one coming in response, but I only have so much time each day, and that time is full to the brim. I'm always doing two things at once it seems, and I'm honestly really loving it, it's tiring, but it isn't wearying, if that makes any sense. I'll keep trying to blog more often, but will likely keep failing to do so. This is ok. E-mails and calls are forthcoming, I promise.

Where have you been young man?

Why right here, thanks for asking. I finally got some questions out of you guys, and am going to my best to answer them over the course of the next few blog posts. So, what did I do in Seattle, you ask. I'll tell you. I went to Pike place market, of course, and was thoroughly unimpressed. The seafood looked good, but given the fact that I was only there for the day, and didn't exactly have a kitchen at my disposal it didn't really matter, and the produce was teh same California vegetables you get in Georgia year round. Oh well. The building was cool, and there was a lot of cool food stands, and the crowds were crazy.

I went to the Seattle Art Museum, which was phenomenal, and to the SAM sculpture garden where they had a very cool piece of modern art/architecture, a vivarium where they transplanted a dead tree, and perfectly duplicated the conditions under which it would have remained in the wild, so as to allow it to rot as it was meant to, but in a controlled and observable fashion. If you're interested you can read more here. Then I walked over to the space needle, and checked out the Folklife festival which was going on. Humongous crowds of freaks, and punks, families and hippies, buskers, emo kids, and even a few normal people. It was pretty cool, and after some grade A people watching I moved on. Hit up an awesome punk rock record shop, a couple of cool coffee houses, and then headed back to the peninsula. It was a fun time, but I definitely think I would have enjoyed myself more if I had someone familiar with the city to guide me.

As promised in my last blog post here are a few pictures of my living quarters, starting with a view from the front door:



My dining room:


The kitchen:


The bathroom:

A few shots of my bedroom:


A challah I baked the other day, because what would you do without at least one or two pictures of food. You might worry I wasn't getting enough to eat. Don't, there's more than enough to go around:

Now for the questions, Mindy writes "Seen the finale of Lost yet?" I have. I actually ripped apart half of the interior of my van to improve the reception, and watched it broadcast live on Canadian television, which apparently hasn't made the switch to digital broadcasting yet. It was very nerdy. As far as the show is concerned, I'm not really sure how I feel about it yet. On the one hand it was all touchy-feely satisfying, but on the other, it did sort of seem like they wrote off the whole reason the show was interesting to watch. Right now I'm conflicted on this one. I think after some time my opinion will solidify.

Another question from Mindy, "Worked at a farmer's Market yet?" I have not. There is still much to much to do on the farm, but there is hope that I may accompany Christie this weekend, and the Wednesday market starts this coming week, and that may present a better opportunity for me to go.

One final question from Mindy(don't worry, I'll tackle the others in a later post), "Found any to die for foods in Port Angeles?" Well, yes and no. There are coffee shops everywhere, but I've found one I particularly like, that pulls a perfect espresso every time, and makes a mean coffeecake to boot. There is a place where you can get raw local milk, un-pasteurized, un-homogenized, cream separating out, the whole deal. I would not have believed how much better it is, but it really is something else.

Papa Miguel wants to know, "What is it really like being in a small town?" This is a very good question. You have to understand that the farm is located smack dab in the middle of Sequim and Port Angeles, about ten or fifteen minutes away from either one, and so we're not really a part of either community, per se, but as farmers we are sort of de facto members of the community even though we're outsiders. It's fascinating really. Now as far as the farm community goes, we really are a part of something unlike anything I've ever experienced before. Everyone knows each other, and even though we're all competitors, everyone is always willing to lend a hand, or host a barbecue or a potluck, to trade eggs, locally raised grass-fed beef, or a bag of arugula for a loaf of bread or the promise of some produce not yet harvested. It's pretty awesome.

As for the townies, and I'm sure that no one but me calls them that, because really, come on, it's hilarious, they all know each other, but are really quite welcoming, and it may be more of matter of changing my behavior, but I'm getting with everyone, and meeting new people left and right. I'm sure that some of that has to do with my new attitude. I have not once turned down an invitation to a show or a party, or even just to drop by and say hello, and so I meet new people, and am making new friends, and I'm really enjoying being so far outside my comfort zone that I wouldn't even have time for anxiety in those situations that I would have been miserable in, even a year or two ago.

And that ladies and gentlemen, is all for today. The wind is picking up,a dn my fingers are going numb. I'll post again soon, and in the meantime remember, as always, I love you all, and miss you, and can't wait to see you again.