jeudi

sunrise : let out chicks. scrub waters. feed the masses.
morning : collect summer's first tomatoes in a dusty ol' shirt.
late morning : chase piglets through the amaranth forest that is now the garden pen.
noon : breakfast of tomato, cuke, onion salad with sunny side up eggs and creamy cheese.
early afternoon : fight with health insurance agency. accept defeat. spend 2 hours researching Other Options.

proposed late afternoon : collect ingredients all over town for littlest sister's birthday. two cakes. one very spoiled sister.
proposed evening : trail run with molly, fi, elizabeth, and the overweight but enthusiastic pups.
proposed nightime : sleep. sleep every hour that it is dark, because that is how much a young farmer needs in these long summer days.

photos:
1. [[see "morning"]]
2. one of 15 cats on the farm. they've got the mice routine covered, so there is a bit of downtime for these fluff balls.
3. we have 7 (Seven!!) house pigs. such pigdom requires a good amount of double tasking as littlest sister is accomplishing here.

whiskey before breakfast

my littlest and only sister turns 25 this weekend. which, officially, makes me an Old Woman. and so, to commemorate this, i took her south west of asheville, to the mountains, for some sister time. no animals. no boyfriends. just running trails. her mandolin. my tent. a couple of bananas. and a generous ration of beer.

i haven't left the farm in months. not since early march. unless you count the hospital when nick was sick. which i do not. it was hardly 36 hours away. but i reveled.

photos:
1. the view from our campsite. it smelled like california. like the sierra nevadas. it was fully glorious.
2. we create a mess. cowboy boots. bananas. smelly running shorts. this was just the spillover. the back was a solid wall of clothes and sleeping bags.
3. we did a solid amount of trail running. which makes me a happy Old Woman.
4 & 5. breakfast. fiona and i have a history of under-packing for food. dinner was an avocado, a cuke, and an onion. we invested in a loaf of bread in town to help it all down.
6. i love her.
7. even if she plays the first chords to whiskey before breakfast over and over and over again as she learns the mandolin.

good on ya, new york.

it can't possibly be friday

this is where florence and pascal sleep. they would like to wish you a bon week-end but they are out. which is quite clear as there appears only to be some straw, a feed bowl, and pascal's kiddie pool inside right now.

everyone on the home farm is rather indisposed au moment. fi, billy, and molly went in search of a swimming hole. nick is lounging in the hammock. rudy is recuperating in the sun from an unwanted bath. so is rose. bella is standing in the pond, afraid to go past her ankles. the chucks are making their rounds. the cats are in front of the fan. and i....well, i am about to make nick and i some drinks with ice cubes and hope in my outdoor tub to soak away the week. have a good one.

theives in the onion patch

we seem to be in a root vegetable groove. i have been obsessively reading --well, as obsessively as a farmer such as myself can find time to read-- root cellaring: natural cold storage of fruits and veggies. and so the roots are comin out! yesterday we spent a brutal 5 hours digging onions. there was a brief scare that somebody had stolen all of our onions. it turned out they were really just hiding in the weeds. i have Neglected that garden...with a vicious passion. today was potatoes and carrots and garlic. i really know how to show these kids a good time. the prospect of storing...hoarding... all these wondrous veggies all year round is too tempting. the smugness that could come with preparing a potato salad with your own potatoes for one of those random, glorious, and singular warm weather days in january when everyone jumps to cookouts and short shorts! root cellaring appeals to the parsimonious kate and the vainglorious kate.

photos:
1. purple & orange carrots. in june. no. big. deal. (isn't IT a big deal? one farmer implied they were impressed)
2. i think my sister is the most beautiful.
3. this garlic is not so beautiful.  but it will, as they say, get the job done.
4. god bless the flowers that reseeded themselves from last summer. the wasps and beneficials thank you.  i was a neglectful flower seeder.
5. onions! curing in the greenhouse.
6. litter in my garden. shameful. as it was me. definitely.  and i walk by that blasted bottle every day. haven't picked it up. you should hear the Lecture i pour onto others when they leave so much as a spade or a dropped tomato in my garden. ahhhh, finding hypocrisy in ourselves is one of the everday joys of life.
7. just a reminder to you all, that i am, indeed, a cowgirl.