Miolea Organic Farm

Farmers just amaze me.  Their ability, knowledge, skills, metal and perserverance is astounding.  Then throw on a dose of private interests mixed with local governement and you really find out what a farmer is made of when faced with the situation.  

I have asked before and I ask one more time.  Please follow this link and help save an organic farm from government and special interests.  You will see the results of everyone's efforts, including yours.  You have responded in the past and we ask one more time, this Wednesday, 11/16 at 10:45 am EST. please call.  We can make a difference each and every one of us.  If you cannot make it locally please set a reminder to call at that time or whenever.  Tell them to save nicks organic farm.  

This is about all of us, about ecology, farm land preservation, its about special interests manipulating politicians and the almighty dollar.  More importantly it is our time and opportunity to help right a wrong. This is our time to stand up for the little guy.

thank you 

In an attempt to reach out to our community, and get help for the farm, I called the local high school and talked to the student-advisor of the “Future Farmers of America" club.  I explained that we were a local organic farm and wanted to know if any of the students would want to work on the farm.  We would pay for their labor and they would be able to satisfy school requirements.  At the end of the conversation, the instructor said she would announce the opportunity.  "But", she said, "you know how kids are today,” Yes, I knew what she meant; the majority of our youth spend too much time with electronics and social networking and little time experiencing their environment.  I also knew that most of the kids that want to be farmers today see themselves in air-conditioned cabs on large tractors and combines.  I do not have a problem with that, as long as they still want to farm.  We of course do not work in air-conditioned anything.  So, as it turned out, no one from the high school called.  That year we hired people from off the street.   

Not to be deterred, during the winter,  I researched the offerings of our local community college.  They did not have agronomy or animal husbandry but they did have a culinary arts program.  One of my thoughts was, "wouldn't it look good on a new chefs' resume that they worked on an organic farm".  So I called the community college, spoke to the head of the program, and sold my idea of an intership.  She then passed me to the head Chef.  

I talked to the head Chef and set up a time to come in and address his class. He agreed to setup an internship and I agreed to make sure they (the perspective students) met the requirements.  I had a twenty-minute presentation that ended with a technical look at eggs.  Specifically, the difference between store bought and free-range, organic eggs.  I made arraignments with Chef to have eggs available.  The last part of the presentation was going to be "show and tell".  I had brought a dozen eggs and had planned to open their egg and my egg and let them see the difference.  Then they could take the rest of the eggs and compare the tastes of both.  I talked about the difference of both on a fat, vitamin, cholesterol, omega three's and mineral level.  Then I opened an egg from the school onto a plate.  I then took my egg, opened it up and poured it out of the shell onto the other plate.   

There was an audible gasp from the students when they saw the color of the two yolks.  Then I started getting questions about if there was a difference when cooking with the egg.  I thought, "I got them" and I explained how the free range organic egg would give more lift because of the protein and how they would need to adjust bread recipes because of the fat or lack there of.  I also explained how hard fresh eggs are to peel once they are hard-boiled.  I taught them about the bloom and why an egg can stay fresh for three months without refrigeration.  Then I hit them with this line, "As a new Chef, whose resume would look better, one that has an internship on an organic farm or one without?”  

I thanked them for their time and left.  I felt good; my expectation was that I was going to get help for the coming growing season.  I had left our email address and phone number.  It was just a matter of time before I had help.  They earn college credits, money and experience with growing organic food in a sustainable environment.  The requirements were two days a week for three months.  Therefore, I felt good that night and waited for the calls to come.  Oh hell, you know where this is going so I will beat to the chase.  Let us just say I had inordinate expectations.

Buy Local:  You can help save the planet, think global, buy local.

Our County promotes a weekend each fall celebrating farms and farming.  Frederick County holds Family Festival on the Farm.  Family’s, that sign up ahead of time, get a CD with a map of all the participating farms and each farm has its own unique look, activities and practices.

Be it conventional or organic, farms are open on this weekend for the education of the public.  It is government expenditures at its best.  Our local government coordinates and markets the event and helps any farm that wants to participate.  

It is an event that we have been involved in the last three years.  However, our participation is unique, we pack up and go over to Nick's Organic and cook his organic beef on a cherry wood fire.  We get to cook, promote our cooking classes, sell our other stuff and preach to the choir.  Each year the crowd grows, questions become more in-depth, the stories of backyard escapades intensify and what people are doing still surprises me.

I had one of those re-affirming moments on the second day of the event; I know my views are somewhat anti-establishment in the farming community so I am often careful as to what I say and when.  We are a humane farm and we keep our hens for four years.  Even organic practices allow hens to be processed within two years of their life, which is their peak laying time.  As I have exposed before this is a hard process for us.  I guess I am chicken when it comes to processing them. I think they should get to live at least until they stop laying completely.  Then we get them processed and take them to local soup kitchens. 

The festival was winding down the last day of the event the farm manager, Nick and some of Nick's friends were standing around the grill.  There were mostly farmers and some mechanics that had come to fix the picker on the combine,  They were hanging around and eating sausages and hamburgers.  I was out of my league; here are all these people that have spent their lives in the fields and on farms.  I have always been leery of being called a farmer because of these people.  In my eyes they are farmers, I am but a large gardener.  Well, we were all standing around and the topic turned to chickens.  Nick innocently asked me what I do with my spent layers, I thought a bit.  I knew everyone around me has processed beef, pork, goats, lamb, chickens and turkeys.  Squeamishness is not a feeling that is prevalent in the farming community.   

Do I act tough in front of these people and say something that I think everyone would expect?  Or on the other hand, should I tow the party line and admit we keep our layers for four years before we get them processed, and then take them to the soup kitchen.  So, I said just that, “We are a humane farm and we keep our chickens (at this time I can feel my face flushing) until they stop laying and then we take them up to Berry Blossom for processing and then to the soup kitchen so their last act is to feed the less fortunate”.  I expected jeering but from one to the other each passed on their admiration for that act.  Who knows they might go back and say, I just met this nut that gives away his chickens.  If so, who cares, if it inspires another person to do a similar act then great.

Either way I am glad I stayed true to our beliefs and ego be dammed.  I am sure they are scratching their heads and asking how we make money, as do we.  But in the end it us that have to live with our decisions and as I have said before we are in it for the health not the wealth.

Buy Local:  Support a local farm so it can support you and your community in the future.

Okay, so I grew up in the city and did not learn all the ways of farm life.  Like farm jargon, every job or career has jargon.  I was listening to my nephews who are Marines at Easter.  One is deploying while the other has already served a tour.  I stopped asking what they were saying after about five minutes.  Nothing had a name they spoke acronyms interspersed with articles and prepositions. 

Being no exception farming has its share of jargon.  So steers, bull, calf, heifer, weaning, culled, dressed etc., was jargon I’m still getting use to.  I learned farm etiquette mostly from Joel Salatin but he didn’t say anything about asking to milk a farmer’s cow.

Let me save you time, embarrassment and maybe a little anger directed towards you.  If you are on a dairy farm and the farmer asks you if you’d like to milk a cow, by all means.  Milk the cow.  If you are on a dairy farm and you ask to milk a cow you might get the treat of being able to do it.  However, with health code related reasons you might not get that chance.

Now if you are on a beef farm and the farmer has a milking cow and that cow happens to be from a prized blood line of Guernsey’s think twice.  Think, how much do you truly know this farmer?  Ask yourself, how much does he or she truly know me?  Have you been dealing with each other for awhile or is this a new relationship?  How often do you visit the farm and once there how long do you stay?  These are all questions you want to ask yourself before even remotely thinking of uttering the question.

There is a bond between a farmer and his dairy cow particularly if it is his only one and she happens to be pregnant.  There is a ritual that takes place at least once a day if not twice and that is milking her.  Guernsey’s are known for their golden, nutrient rich milk.  Some will say there is no better tasting milk then a Guernsey.  I can’t judge I do know it makes great ice-cream because I’ve made it.

I’d have to say Dan is one of most genial, pleasant, honest,  willing to help others and accommodating as much as possible.  But I learned that there are some things that push his buttons.  I’m comfortable with my ignorance around Dan.  He knows I am from the city so he takes his jabs now and then but he is helpful. We were out in his field and he was showing me the new baby cow his Guernsey Lexus had.  There is some jargon word for baby cow, I’ll have to look it up.

We are standing out in the field it’s a hot summer day and I hear water running.  Dan's talking and this flowing water is distracting me.  He's talking about the baby and finally I said “Dan, it sounds like you have water just gushing out from the feeder”.  He looks at me instead of where the sound was coming from.  He just grinned and said, “You ain’t seen a cow pee before have ya?”

Well, no I had not seen a cow pee before but, I didn’t really have to answer him.  The answer was in the last statement I had just made.  I shrugged my shoulders, put my arms up and said “well what can I say.”  I mean if you haven’t seen one when you do you don’t believe that; a. that much water is coming out and b. the duration is as long as it is.  I swear learning is great.

Well I got pretty comfortable with Dan and I can ask him any question and he being a farmer his whole life he gives me a straight answer.  He puts up a lot with my questions so I try not to impinge on his time and whenever he calls for help I answer.  Course him being an old farmer he doesn't call.

So last year I got it in my head that I’d like to try and milk a cow.  I’d never done it before and figured it would be part of my learning experience.  I have to admit, I didn’t take into account the man’s bond with his prized Guernsey.  We were on the phone making arrangements, I was coming over for chicken feed and I had asked how the cow and her 3 month old calf were, and if he had milked the mother.  “No,” he said. So I just threw the question out there and asked if I could milk the cow.  Dead silence on the phone.  “Oh, okay” he said followed by “I gotta go. I'll let you know”  I didn’t see Dan for about three weeks after we hung up.

When we went to pick up the layer mash, Harvey, the farm hand, was there to collect the check.  The next time I did see Dan not a word was spoken about Lexus or her milk, or her calf.   I figured I crossed the line and left it at that.  There was awkwardness between us for quite awhile.  I guess he is still afraid I might ask him if I can milk her again.  I’m not, I understand now, the non-verbal queue was not that hard to pick up. 

So before you ask a farmer if you can milk his or her cow, make sure you know how they feel about other people touching their prized possession. 

Buy Local – From some one who is treating the earth kindly while growing 

Planning the garden, is something that we really enjoy, emotions get involved, words might be said and past experiences brought up and used as salvos.  Each person pushing to have their favorite fruit or vegetable planted.  It is all done in good fun and eventually we find ways to add a vegetable here or more fruit plants there. 

We'll be using field two which the chickens are now on and tearing the grasses to shreds and dropping their fertilizer.  We've used them as weeders and feeders and will start to move them off to the next resting field.  We started out with six Rhode Island Reds that were seventeen weeks old.  They weren’t organic but they were being raised organic. 

Layers are supposed to start laying eggs when they get to about twenty one weeks of age.  So at the twenty week mark I started looking for eggs.  Each day I would go out check the egg door only to be disappointed.  This went on for fourteen straight days.  Each evening after work I’d check for an egg.  Here we are going in week twenty-two and I’m not seeing anything.

So, I thought what if I give them an inspirational speech?  Show them what they are here for and hopefully get them thinking about their true calling in life.  We had gotten carry out from the local Chinese restaurant the night before when I got this brain storm.  The next day I took my materials out to the hen house and put one object on the edge of the pen and the other at the opposite end.

The chickens were out and curious as to what was sitting on top of their pen.  So I started my speech.  I told them how we were a small farm and they were here to help and that we were helping their species by ordering and using them in our system.   Then I pointed to the left and explained to them that this was an egg carton.  I explained what they needed to do in order to fill the egg carton so we could make money to help with their costs.  Then I pointed to the right hand side and explained that the object sitting on the corner was a Chinese take out container and it could contain General Tzu’s Chicken, or Broccoli and Chicken and so on.   I gave them a choice they could fill one box or the other.  I explained that it was up to them as to what choice they made but that we needed to make money somehow.

I left both boxes there so as to continue the intimidation.  This was all in good fun but our records show that they started laying a few days after that.  I know deep down that I had nothing to do with there productivity but I love the coincidence none the less.

Buy – Local – From a farmer you know and trust, not a chain profiting off the word

Go with your Strengths

We had started year three of our growing in a good position.  We were using crop rotation and still figuring out the irrigation system but we felt good about our knowledge.  The deer were still beating us on the blue berries but the strawberries were coming on strong and sweet.  The barn was holding up but was showing its age.  It was built in the 1950's as a dairy barn.  We didn't have the money or the experience to do anything major with it so we kept an eye on it, making it water tight and let it go until the future.

I am not a handyman or a “mister fix it” by any standard.  If fixing means tearing down or destroying then I’m great at it.  One of the first successes I had as a handyman came when we were able to open the barn doors in the back of the building, that the previous owner had boarded up.  The second success came when I built new doors and was able to hang and close the barn back up, mostly.  My first mistake in the project came when we closed the doors for the first time.  We had measured the opening and made the doors from plywood and wood trimming.  Once hung and closed we realized the doors weren't wide enough to cover the entire opening of the barn.  You know, I measured twice but I was not the only one doing the construction.  However, pointing fingers never moves you in the right direction so why dwell about fault.

I added wings to the doors and sure enough there was no opening to allow small critters inside.  So that success started me thinking about other small projects.  Like a moveable, self contained, floorless chicken house and pen, one large enough to hold twenty-five birds.

It has since been referred to as both the Spruce Goose and the Titanic, neither names invoking any thing other then abject failure. But I digress.  I've never been good with building things as a matter of fact I excel at the complete opposite.  I learned earlier on that destruction was my forte.  I've put holes in cinderblock walls with a sledge hammer in order to place in a doorway. I’ve torn down shacks with crow bars and sledge hammers.  I can tear things apart with the ease of an expert.  Putting things back together though I'm the kind of person that has spare parts when everything is completed.  I'm much more comfortable bringing down a dead thirty foot oak tree than I am cutting a forty-five degree angle for chair molding.  Even though I knew I was not a handyman I tried to build the moveable pen.

We started out with six birds and bought our first hen house.  It is a great little moveable house and pen.  It is completely self sufficient.  It has water, food, nesting boxes, roosts, bare floor and a small enclosed yard.  It is called a Henspa.  It was more than we wanted to spend but we bit the dust and placed the order. 

The house was small and would hold up to twelve hens though nine is more hospitable.  With green manures and winter cover cropping we had plenty of fresh grass for the hens to eat.  We could put the house in our gardens and move it every other day.  The hens got fresh grass and the garden got nutrients for the coming growing season.  For the first year this worked well but we had more orders for eggs then we had capacity.  It was nice having a waiting list but we needed to add to the hen population.

I started drawing the new, bigger portable pen a year before we started building.  It would have everything that the other house had but this would hold twenty-five birds, comfortably.  So I took the dimensions of the real house and scaled it up to handle the increase in hens. Most of you are already getting the picture.  I think the only thing I can say is that I didn't rush into things.  I drew up the plans with measurements from all sides, heights, widths, lengths, floor plans, nesting boxes and roosting poles, egg door and outside pen.  I had all my drawings (14 different views with measurements of various sections) and a materials list before purchasing a single screw.  I was on top of the project.

We cut all the pieces of wood and started assembling them.  Adding sides to other sides it started taking shape. We got the nesting box and egg door in, the second floor and roosts, wheels and pulley system and feed box.  We pulled it out of the barn to put the roof on.  I can't begin to document all the failures and in what order they took place.  All I remember is that I would fix one thing and another thing would break.  But, being one that doesn't give up easily,  I would fix the next problem only to encounter another.  So on its maiden voyage it hit ground and a support pole broke on the wheel mechanism and it sank into the ground (think Titanic).  I then heaved up the wheels and support beams that would carry the whole box.  I fortified pullys,  cables and support hooks.

On its second maiden voyage we pushed the lever down to lift the box up off the ground, and on its wheels, but we couldn't get enough clearance to move the box off the ground (think Spruce Goose).  After two years and five hundred dollars in materials (at least that is what my accountant says, and if I wasn't married to her I would've questioned her book keeping skills) I've somewhat given up on it.   When asked about it I joke that it was designed by the "Three Stooges" and built by "Fred Flinstone".

It sits out by the barn mostly built, no roof, no pen, no handles on the egg door; it just sits there and mocks me.  I may have stopped tinkering with it and often think about accidentally setting it on fire when weeding but I'm not just ready yet to give up on it.  Besides, it’s been holding up pretty well these past few years.

Buy Local - From a farmer you know and trust not a chain selling the concept

We found that Roaster was ill this past Saturday.  She is one of the first six chickens and is a prolific egg layer.  My wife noticed that she was not herself.  She was listless, wasn't eating and or drinking and had yellow diarrhea.  We pulled her from the flock and put her in the hospital pen. 

We started to give her an examination.  Everything was fine except her belly area.  It was inflamed and hard.  We thought for sure we hade a stuck egg so we prepared to do an exam of the vent and cloaca to get the egg out.  We got rubber surgical gloves and lubricant.   We gently felt around and she didn't move, squawk or anything.  To me this was a terrible indication that and the fact that we could not find an egg stuck or otherwise.

That night we spent most of the night tracking down her combination of  symptoms.  Something this difficult was hard to find on the net and at any of the university sites we had.  We poured over books and eventually sent an email to a poultry professor at NC State.  We explained all the symptoms and what we had felt in the cloaca.

What we got back hit us square on.  It was the Monday before Thanksgiving and her prognosis was dismal.  He told us that it was possible she had one of two things, ovarian cancer or e-coli poisoning.  The line that sent chills and made us fold was that either way she was in severe pain.  He went on to say that even though she would be in extreme pain she would not exhibit signs of distress.  I understood what he meant and that we needed to consider her quality of life.

In the mean time the battery on the tractor went dead and we still had to get the newly delivered water tanks moved and up righted and the big chicken house moved.  I had charged the battery only to find it did not hold a charge.  I took Wednesday before Thanksgiving off so I could get a battery and keep an eye on Roaster.  We had started her on anti-biotic the night before in hopes of it being sepsis and getting her well.

I was feeding her medicated water by syringe and she seemed to be drinking as much as I could give her.  I had read that boiled egg was good for a chicken that was not eating.  I know it sounds bad but we tried it.  She wasn't eating but that was secondary to drinking.  She kept drinking so we kept feeding her the anti-biotic water.  The next day I went and purchased a new battery for the tractor.

I put the battery in the tractor and the tractor would not crank over.  I left it to check on Roaster.  When I saw her I thought she was already dead.  She opened her eyes when she heard me come into the stall and started to vomit blood.  It was time.  I could no longer let my inadequacies continue only to let her suffer.  I will spare myself the re-telling of the events that happened next but she is out of pain now and I am not.

This experience only reenforced our earlier thoughts about caring for animals on a farm.  There are people like myself that have a very hard time dealing with the mortality.  I've heard that there is no mercy on a farm but there is.  There is just no mercy for the farmer when the hits just keep coming.

We do a lot of research in order to learn what we are doing be it right or wrong.  Farming is one of the few professions that I know of that is backed by University researchers, extension services and educational knowledge resources.  We do contact and communicate with subject matter experts from around the world and are currently doing some field research with a local University.

One of the things that I like about what we do is that there are many variables in determining how to handle a situation or problem.  My thought is to keep an open mind and run through them as best I can.  I always have in the back of my mind "what if"? 

I look to the future 200, 300 or more years from now; people will still be writing books, songs, movies, plays and doing farm research.  My next question is what will they be studying?  What will they be writing or singing about?  How will layers and broilers evolve?  What will organic standards be and materials used?  So I read and try to become as knowledgeable as possible on the topic at hand, but I don't constrain myself to what I've learned.

I don't mean to imply I re-invent the wheel every time we have a problem or a situation arises but I always question if there is a different way to the same outcome.  The hens would be my best example of what I mean.  Who's to say that we can not communicate with the birds and in turn they communicate to us?

You can find the minimum square footage of space for the bird (inside and out) roosting and nesting space, feed and water space and optimal temperatures.  You can find out about bird behavior and characteristics.  All that goes out the window with us, mainly because we exceed all maximums when it comes to housing, feeding, watering and foraging.  We touch our hens often, picking them up, moving them, inspecting them or just stroke their backs.  Some run, most once they know you are after them just kind of squat, push their wings out some and wait to be picked up. 

Behavior is another thing, we know there is a pecking order and we try to discourage pecking.  We don't de-beak so it takes extra attention to make sure all are calm.   If there is no compition for resources they usually don't have a reason to enforce the pecking order.   Happy is a human emotion that at the begining we never associated with our hens.  We just thought there was healthy and unhealthy.  But we have learned that the hens are indeed happy.  We talk to our chickens and they respond.  

Just by walking towards the pen the flock comes to us and it is one of the funniest things I've seen.  All of a sudden one bird will see us and come running, wings flapping dust flying, and then another and another until you got the flock running flopping wings and all.  Some get about two feet off the ground others kind of skip and fly.  It always brings a grin to whomever is watching.  It is not just us either; I've noticed customers walking over to one of the flocks to watch.  They can be at the other end of the pen but when they see someone they dash to inspect the voyeur.  The Pavlovian crowd will say it is a learned response because of us bringing food and water.   Maybe, but we go there more often empty handed getting eggs than we do with food and water.

We replenish stores every other day, however there is enough water and food for four days (in case of emergency like we get caught at work).  Can the hens associate food with us even though they have a constant supply?  I don't know the answer, all I know is we can call them and they come.  We talk to them and they calm down, even during the most stressed of times.  When we had the dog attack we had two badly wounded hens and we had to clean and dress the wounds, frequently.  There was some agitation as would be expected but we kept shushing them and they would calm down.   I could feel it as their body relaxed and hear it when the squaking stopped.

Then there are the times that a hen will go to far and loose her way back to the hen house.  At dusk it is in their instinct to get to the highest point and roost there, much like wild turkeys.  When the hen count doesn't add up we'll start to walk the grounds and talk.  Inevitably the hen will respond back with a low gurgling clucking.  We'll keep talking until we find what tree and what branch she occupies.  We'll then just pluck her off the branch, she'll squawk but when we say shish, in that soothing tone and cadance, she calms down and goes along for the ride.  Once back at the house we place her inside and close the door.  Of all the research that I've done I haven't come across all the behavior we observe with our flocks. 

But, we talk to our hens from day one.  You spend a lot of time with them at the beginning making sure their food and water supply is clean and they are warm.  I keep from anthropomorphizing but by observation I know they have decision making capacity and can tell the difference in voice, tone and timber.  Broody decided to stay with flock one, cognitively or not she made a choice to stay instead of going back to the barn and being alone or going to her own flock which was stressful.  She apparently was less stressed with a new flock than she was with her own and went there. 

As I've written before we are a humane farm and that philosophy transfers to the animals themselves.  Fights are not allowed and are mostly stopped by me yelling.  The tone, timber and reflection in the voice are enough to break their attention which in turn settles them down (see: My Neighbors Must Think ...).  Most of the time that works, then there are times that I need to just get in between them.  I've actually taken to placing the most aggressive, of the birds outside of the pen and let them forage.  This in turn has helped a lot on flock behavior.

For the most part there is harmony among the flocks and they are healthy, energetic specimens.  But, the time is coming for the first six.  They will stop laying and we will have to process them in order to cut costs in an attempt to be profitable.  Yes, profit, we are making a decision based on the profit motive.  But, it is not at the expense or safety of our customer’s health.  

As has been written on these pages before this is a very personal, agonizing decision for us.   We keep putting the decision off because the birds keep laying two to three eggs a day.  There will be decisions made that monetarily and emotionally will be hard but not now, that is still in the future.

Buy Local - From a local farmer not a chain hard selling the word. 

There were hundreds of little experiences with my grandparents, parents. aunts, uncles and in-laws, that when taken as a whole, have led me to where I am today.  My father liked to grow tomatoes and camp.  On those camping trips we somehow always ended up at a farm.  One of my earliest recollections was with my father stopping to buy eggs,  I remember him talking about the freshness of the eggs coming right from the farm.  He would buy fresh corn, tomatoes and whatever else they had.  That night my mom would make dinner with what was purchased.

My grandfather owned a restuarant for awhile and then sold fruits and vegetables in the city.  I can remember the smells the fast driving as he was picking up or delivering cases of fruits, vegetables and herbs.  Then there was my father-in-law who put a garden in every year and every year it seemed to get a little bigger.  He had perfect rows and would tend them daily often imparting bits of wisdom.  I love to cook but at the time I was still in college and didn't have a thought of growing anything.  But I loved his daughter and I wanted him to like me, so I helped and listened to him all the same. 

There is this paradox with what we do.  It is incredibly hard physically, mentally, emotionally and fiscally.  by the end of the growing season we are drained in every aspect of being.  Yet each year as winter turns to spring I start to get anxious.  I can't wait to hook the tiller up to the tractor and turn that years production garden under.  I'll hook up the water tanks to collect the spring rains and torture some poor plant by planting it early and trying to keep it warm in the frigid air.  Always testing ways to get things planted earlier then planned.

I'll dream of the corn and tomatoes to come while testing the soil temperature and waiting for the slightest change in weather.  But there are the long, hot, humid, sweaty days that will come with all this anticipation and the back breaking labor of planting, weeding and re-weeding.  I'll look back at what we earned last year, what pains we went through, how much time we spent and logically tell myself it just is not worth it.   

Then a small voice inside will say, "This is the year. This year will be the  year that we really make a profit.  Our name will get out and people will come to the farm and purchase".  I think of all the little simple acts that have taken place in my life and I know I'm where I'm supposed to be doing the things we do.  Besides who is to say, maybe this will be the year.

Buy Local - from a farmer not a chain hard selling the word.

The first year on the farm had its perils, like the time the phone company changed our phone number, without us initiating the task or them asking us if it was okay.  To top that off they wouldn't give us the new number because they said it was unlisted. 

One Friday evening my mother-in-law called us on the cell-phone.  "What is your new number?" "What new number" my wife asked? "I just called your house and the message said that your number has been changed to an unpublished number".  There were so many new situations that we were facing that this seemed par for the course.  But thinking back, when has the phone company ever changed your phone number without you asking for it and then they wouldn't give you the new number.  I mean we really have had off the wall occurrences to deal with.

We had already been through the "take an analog phone out side and plug it into the telephone poll" routine.  I kid you not; we had a problem with the line and called the phone company.  As part of the troubleshooting they wanted us to take an analog phone out and plug it into the network interface device or NID. 

We found it on the telephone poll, plugged the phone in and got a dial tone.  "Ok,” the technician said "the problem is with the line in the house".  They scheduled an appointment the coming week.  In the mean time if there was an emergency we could take the phone outside and plug it into the NID and call 911.  Does anyone remember Oliver climbing the telephone poll to make a call?  What a hoot, with the phone connected to the telephone poll I couldn't help but start to call family and friends and tell them I was using a phone outside plugged into the telephone poll. 

My wife hangs up with her mother and we call our home phone number.    "The number you have dialed has been changed to an unlisted number."  We hear the automated voice telling us.  So we called the phone company.  Yes the phone number was changed this afternoon.  "Okay, great," I say "can you tell us what the new number is?"  I'm getting ready to write the number down and I hear him say, "I'm sorry" Sorry?  For what? "The number is unlisted".  "Yes, that is what the message told us, but you know we are calling from our home and you can see our number, right"?  It didn't matter what argument we used they weren't going to give us the new number.    

We're thinking you can't make this stuff up.  Being resourceful is a great trait to have when working on the farm.  Things come up that you've never experienced and there is a need to deal with it or overcome it.  This was just another example of a problem that we hadn't anticipated or thought of.  The answer to this problem was simple.  All we did was call my wife's cell phone and presto, we had our phone number.  So much for paying an extra fee for an unlisted phone number.

So we got our new phone number and my wife says "Man, do you get the impression that Green Acres was a prep course for us?"  I had to laugh and simply agree.

Buy Local- from a farmer not from a chain pushing the word.

 After the persons surprise that often accompanies the answer, that yes we indeed do farm, we get asked about vacations.  "When do you take vacations,"  or "Now that summer is over what do you do?"  Work never stops, in the winter we are about as busy as during the growing season.  I'm just doing different work.  Work that takes a back seat during the growing season.  We still have it easier than the folks with big animals.

 You still have to take care of the chickens.  You have pre-winter activites like taking down the rain-water collection system.  Winterizing the water tanks and putting everything away.  You get the winter setup for the chicken houses out and ready for bitter weather and cover the strawberries with burlap.  Winter is the time to work on the tractor and tune up the small engines to get them ready for next year.  Fields need to be cleared of fallen trees.  Dead trees need to be harvested and cut into firewood. 

 We will go through about four thousand pounds of firewood (two cords)and three thousand pounds of wood pellets in the house.  It is all brought in a little at a time but it is almost a daily chore.  We heat the upstairs with the pellet stove and the first floor with a woodstove that is in the kitchen.  The wood stove sits in the original cooking fire place.  The fire place hearth is eight feet wide by six feet deep, the opening of the hearth at its peak is almost five feet five inches tall.  I've been told that I can not cook in it as much as I ask!

 The chickens are a daily task that cannot be skipped.  Some are kept in houses that have no floors so they can be moved onto new grass without having to let them out.  Others are in converted horse trailers and have to be let out every day.  This means they have to be closed up for the night too.  Then you have to make sure the water is not freezing and more importantly the chickens are not freezing.  They will eat more as a way of staying warm so restocking cycles pick up.  The Rhode Island Red comes from the north (Rhode Island coincedently) so they are pretty cold tolerant but they to are suseptable to the frigid cold.

 There is dragging the crusher-run driveway to smooth out the ruts and redistribute the stone bed.  Next up would be fixing doors, windows and any structural repairs that crop up.

 Of course winter is also when the Italian Cooking Classes really start to take off.  We'll teach bread making, pasta making and tomato based sauces.  We get to cook dishes we love to eat and do taste tests with the students.  Usually class will start off with a homemade dish for everyone to sample.  Then depending on the interest we'll go into knife safety, food borne illnesses or a range of food saftey topics.  From there it is into the thick of hands on cooking.

From a vegetable/fruit growers point of view, I think vacation is a good thought but is a misnomer.  Your work and responsibilities do not end they just shift and change a little. 

Buy Local - From a farmer not a chain that hard sells the word 

Frederick County held its Annual Family Fun on the Farm Festival this past weekend.  This is a time for people to come to different farms and learn what the farm is all about.  What sustainalbe practises are in place along with free range techniques and you get to taste actual food provided from the farm.  On Saturday it was cold and raining torrents but people showed up.  A lot of people showed up.  We partnered with Nick's Organic again this year.  I cooked on a cherrywood fire and Nick provided his organically raised beef. 

I cooked mostly hamburgers and beef sausages.  Nick brought out three new varieties of sausage this year and for the life of me I could not keep them straight.  Talk about embarrassing, but we did have fun with it.  We gave samples out and I asked the person what it tasted like; was it sweet, did you taste garlic, or sage?  He had Italian, Kielbasa, Bratwurst and Sage.  Three of the four looked the same.  Cut open I could tell one of the three was Italian because it had red peppers in it.  The sage and kielbasa was a toss-up.  The bratwurst looked differently so it was easier.  As the day wore on some suggested marking the sausages to keep track.

I jumped on it and started marking the kielbasa with a slash down the length and the sage a slash across.  But as they cooked they split and slashes look like lines and lines looked like slashes.  Tasting the sausage to tell the difference was alright when it was a free sample.  But it was tought when people ordered one or another type of sausage.  Now they were paying for the sausage and roll.  To their credit most people settled for what they got.  Others said "Don't worry about it.  It is all is good. Give me what's ready."  Nick has a very hardcore group of followers, people that really "get" local, organically-raised, grass-fed beef, chicken and turkeys.

Along with Nick's meat we were selling our certified organic fall vegetables: kale, red ancho peppers and green peppers,our  honey and jam and promoting the cooking classes.  Saturday was a long cold day, and even though I was next to the fire and under cover I was freezing.  By the end of the day I was whining and wanted nothing but a hot bath.  I felt bad for Nick, Dave and Harvey as they were out in the worst of it and away from any heat.

Then there was feeding the help.  I really have to apologize to Harvey.  He only wanted a well done burger and I can really cook a burger well done, he just didn't get any of them.  Harvey was driving the tractor for the hay-rides.  One of the problems with cooking with wood is I use the flame not the coals.  So you have to get used to moving meat close to and then away from the heat.  Poor Harvey.  Out of all the burgers he got during the two days one might have been medium well done.  His preference was well.  I tried I really did.  I'll make it up to him next year though.

To all the hardy souls that came out thank you.

Buy Local - From a farmer not a chain hard selling the fact.