The New Farm

I feel like we are really starting from scratch.



I should have been documenting this whole thing -- the big leap our family has taken since I last wrote -- but it's almost as if it were too precious, to fragile to really put into words out there in the world. Not just yet anyway.

See, since my last post, we bought a farm. A real, honest-to-goodness farm -- of our own.

We've been working toward this for the last four -- eight, really -- years.

"If only," we'd say, "we had a place of our own."

"Someday, when we actually have a farm..."

"If we ever own our own farm we'll..."

And now we're actually here, on our own farm. 

We did first things first. We moved our stuff, turkeys and equipment.

Then, we broke ground.

Then we butchered said turkeys and delivered them across the state for Thanksgiving. (We have so many thanks to give for all the help we got with that.)

And now, that the dust has settled, it's started to sink in that this magical place is ours. Ours.

Then the panic really set in.

When you finally get something you really, really, really want, it can be a bit paralyzing.

Because now, we don't have any somedays. We have todays.

All the things we thought we could make happen if -- they don't have ifs anymore. They have whens. Now the real work starts.

And all that stuff I thought about our someday? Some of it was true and some of it wasn't, reaffirming that darnit -- life, motherhood, farming, love -- it all takes work, no matter how magical the place or how nicely situated the outbuildings or how well-organized the kitchen.

Everything is a bit easier, yes, and we're doing it all in a breathtaking place, but it all still takes hard, heart-ful, back-aching work.

One thing hasn't changed, though: It's still so very worth it.

Quick and Dirty Update and Recipes Galore

Sorry folks. I've gone bloggy AWOL.

I can't quite give you a full-blown update on all the happenings right now, but here's the quick and dirty:

Take the regular mid-September craziness -- with the farm party last Saturday (cooking for 60 people, with no childcare, am I nuts?) and more produce coming off one small plot than one kitchen can handle, and then add that to the scramble of trying to get ahead of, then dealing with the aftermath of, the first frost (two frosts actually, Friday, Sept. 2 and Saturday, Sept. 3).

Add into that a sick baby, some health issues of my own, the temporary closure of an endeavor that is near and dear to my heart, and then, mix in a major rise! and fall in the saga of trying to find a "home" for this family and this farm.

We've been a little keyed up around here, to say the least.

But, it's starting to settle now and into a quiet, sunny autumn no less. These cool mornings and hot sunny afternoons make up some of my favorite memories and my favorite moments.

So we have that to counter balance all the stress and sadness we've been feeling. Thank God this is all happening now and not in, say January.

Soon, I'll break all of this down, but for now, that's the quick and dirty from a Life, Cultivated and to sweeten the deal, here are some recipes from our farm party. Made, of course, with all (main) ingredients (if only we could grow olives for olive oil and lemons for lemon juice -- drat) coming from our own little farm.

Bronze barley with cucumber dill dressing (By Mark Bittman)
Prairie Farro (our brand of Emmer) salad with basil and tomatoes and zucchini (This was a slight variation on the Bluebird Grain Farm recipe the link goes to.)
Black chickpea salsa (Substituting black chickpeas for the black beans, of course and in the party dish, I used half tomatillos and half tomatoes.)
Lentil hummus (only I added about a 1/2 Tablespoon of cumin)
Cabbage crunch
And, the heritage turkey

Empty, Full, Empty, Full

Sometimes, if you're too busy to get the message on your own, it punches you in the face.

I'm surprised I don't have a black eye today.

Wednesday night, J and I and Willa spent a few hours roaming around the farm I grew up on (here's a piece that explains why this is a big deal). I'd heard it was on the market and called the agent to make an appointment to see the place. At first, I just wanted Jacob to see it. I mean, he's been hearing stories for years and had no topographical context in which to place his wife's childhood. He had to see it. And, I wanted to see it for myself. Maybe I need closure or something.

But, then I started thinking about it as a real possibility for our farm. It's the right size, the right place, the right buildings, the right options.

What a rabbit hole that became. I'll write more about it in a few days, when I've had a little more time to process but for now,  I'm just not sure how to describe how I felt, standing in front of that old house, wind whipping -- past, present and future colliding.

That night, whether it was all the juice from the farm visit or just part of my all-night diner gig (Willa has decided that nursing every hour and a half in the middle of the night is totally acceptable for a 6-month-old), I couldn't sleep. So, I got up at 3 a.m. to go through the photos from the trip and send a few off to my editor for my next Home Again column on The Daily Yonder and New West.

What ensued is why I'm surprised I'm not black and blue.