Day 42, June 29, 2010

Nine-twenty in the evening. The sky is clearing in the gloaming, sharpening as the humidity dissolves. Of course it is nearly dark, but I am always amazed how late the horizon glows, and how quickly this solar treat dies as summer races into fall.

After a quick dinner I drive to the farm and spend an hour tying some of the tomato plants to their stakes. The Beefsteak plants are filling with fruit, while the Brandywine section sports plenty of yellow flowers, but still no sign of tomatoes. I later learn that Brandywine is among the slowest maturing tomato cultiver. There is yet hope for these 1 1/4 lb. pale monsters. The dill hedge looks eerie in the dark, as I leave.

Driving home, I notice a message on my phone. It is Carol Barnes Craig to tell me that the Board of Trustees of Old Mystic United Methodist Church has agreed to allow us to establish a farm stand in their parking lot! If it is successful, we will look into a new farmers market for next year... after all, it seems people never tire of fresh produce and other local products. Our area already has one market in Mystic on Tuesdays; one in Stonington on Saturday, and another equally lively market on Sunday at the Nature Center. It is amazing how people go out of their way support the work of farmers.

I realize that this is my first year growing products on a larger scale, and I realize that customers will expect more than we can offer. We will seek the best locally grown items that other local farmers can provide... items like sweet and butter and sugar corn, root vegetables, novelties like soaps and syrups, and whatever is available. If they are able, we will invite them to join us for sampling and promotion of their wares. Now that I know that we have a great location and a supportive group in Old Mystic United Methodist Church, it is fun to scramble and plan with a purpose!

We should be open in a week or two. Details such as days and hours will follow.

Day 40, June 27, 2010

Likely, after reading yesterday's post, "Radiant Expressions writes: "Please!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don't tell your followers you've gotten a "REAL," job.....;C}) Already, I am too sad when a day goes by where I cannot vicariously check the weeds with you..................:c("

Well, I can say to you, Radiant, I have found a real job. In fact, I experience all of the expectations, politics, incidents, stresses and fleeting promise of a "Real Job." New people, and their expectations, are wending their way into my nascent enterprise. I have been encouraged at times, and reprimanded at others. I deal cheerfully with committees, boards and property owners, prospective wholesale and retail customers. I have felt encouraged and rejected. I have short-term and longer-term goals, and really no budget other than surplus materials and equipment left over from my distribution business.

Through all of this, and as I reflect on an early Sunday morning, I am learning, bit-by-bit, a little more about faith. I am seeing everything, if you will, in the most visceral, seemingly childish terms.

Wherever I go, be it a farm, or a store, or a parking lot, I am a guest. I realize that I represent the most fragile of conditions, and in many ways, I must certainly suggest one who is in need. I have a good sense of humor, so I can live with this tentative life. I realize that practically everyone out there lives in fear, and the more money one earns, the more difficult it becomes to suddenly live without it. We are all equal... at one time or another.

Although my present situation will likely lead to new products, new investors, new distribution and a new chance to prosper, right now, at this moment, I am on my knees, pulling weeds, plucking and crushing squishy red Colorado beetle larvae between my thumb and forefinger, just like Farmhand Jimmy taught me. I am, well, loving the opportunity to exist, and still survive. I take this chance out of my own need to live and work as I wish.

I have faith, certainly in a traditional, secular sense... but I also have faith in my ability to determine how this scenario eventually plays out. I have a job, and it is a most important one. I have a new belief, as I wrote, I believe, on day two that, "Rejection is God's form of protection." I am finding that when one thing happens to push me into a new situation, that it often hurts. In my case, however, leaving one imperfect situation can often lead to a better one. And even in a small community, the opportunities are pretty big. If you let them be big.

More on this later.

Right now, however, the most important job in the garden is weed control. Perhaps my greatest single cash sacrifice, to date, has been the repair - a new carburetor for my four stroke Honda weed whacker. I bought this back when we owned a ridiculously large and impractical house on five acres on a hill outside of Noank Village, CT. Even though the property was large, it was no challenge for my weed whacker, but on the farm it has been given a chance to shine.

This little machine is so powerful that when it approaches a bank of two-foot weeds, it growls a combustion snarl, and its orange nylon cord whips the weeds into water vapor and flecks of green compost. It's dirty work, but immediately satisfying!

There is still plenty of hands and knees-to-ground worship. Today, besides acting as blog photographer, Debbie is weeding the cutting beds. I finish the corn rows and start in on the bush beans. Waiting for Deb to finish the flowers, I decide to tie some tomato plants to their stakes. Up close to these plants I notice that hundreds of small tomatoes are growing on the vines! They are well camouflaged, pale green fruit nestled inside the darker protective hues of their host plants.

Day 39, June 26, 2010

This turkey is running around with his head cut off! Not only is the garden growing like a weed, the weeds are growing like a garden.

This onion patch is finally weeded, the weed whacker is repaired and winning the battle between the rows in the pumpkin patch.

Honestly, folks, I've been incredibly busy, too much so to maintain a consistency in daily blog postings. There is big news afoot, a change of strategy, and an announcement..... hopefully.... forthcoming soon.

Short and sweet! Like hybrid corn. More later!

Day 34, June 21, 2010

A birthday and a new year. Ostensibly wiser. A gorgeous day and an opportunity to take Debbie somewhere she's never been before.

Fishers Island, in many ways, is a garden unto itself. It is a place where perfection abounds, simply because it is a matter of expectation. For most of the summer residents, all expectations are within reach of one's means. Fishers Island is very private. It's a place where there are no resorts, and other than a bar and grill named The Pequot Inne, there is little to do, lest you belong to a club, or are a guest of a resident.

Which brings us to The Briar Patch. "Look, Deb," I say. "They've changed this garden... Looks professional!"

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"We used to come here and pick berries... Elizabeth called them 'Bluejuice Berries," referring to the rows of plump blackberries that would grow through August.

Someone has taken this acre plot and

transformed it into a showplace to rival Mr. Mc Gregor's Garden. And who better to detail the transformation than my old friend, David Burnham, lifelong Fishers Island resident, and proprietor of Race Rock Garden Company. This is a company who's sole mission appears to be designing, constructing and maintaining meticulous hardscapes and landscapes on some of the most beautiful, unspoiled island property on this planet.

David explains that he inherited the $50.00 -a-year utility company lease on the approximate acre lot that is "The Briar Patch." A previous Briar Patch custodial family has decided to move back to the mainland. Eventually, David explains, Vicky, the wife of the curator of the Henry I. Ferguson Museum, who's mission is "the collection, preservation and exhibition of items of Pre-History, History and Natural History of Fishers Island and, through its Land Trust, the preservation in perpetuity of undeveloped property in its natural state."

After a year or two, Race Rock Garden Company takes the garden back from Vicky. Mirapa, a Race Rock employee, has been responsible for the garden, and its magical look, ever since. "It's not the perfect thing in my business plan, but we're trying to get it interesting," David explains. In true Mr. McGregor style, he laments the presence of rabbits in the garden, and I refrain from asking him if he might eventually dress his rabbits the way Beatrix Potter drew them. After all, this is Fishers Island.

"We just want to have the vegetables ready before the summer people leave the island," he declares.

A right, proper goal, indeed.

Day 33, June 20, 2010

It's Fathers Day, and I'm making the mother of all efforts to get ready to open our Fresh Native Produce and Cutting Flower stand at Wychwood Farm.

Inspiration for the sign components comes from the oddest of sources. Case in point: I'm driving through Old Mystic and I notice that my friend, Finny is reopening her General Store after three months of shutdown and remodeling in the wake of the great April Fools' flood. There's a large sandwich signboard in front of the store advertising the fact. It's one of the only ones I've ever seen that is homemade and not from a plastics catalogue.

I make a mental note of the construction: four 2x4's, each about five feet; 2 1/4" bolts, washers and matching nuts; 2 sheets 1/2" plywood. Simple! I decide I'll follow this construction, but instead of paper signs, mine will be chalk-writable. I'll paint the plywood with chalk board paint! Debbie thinks I should spackle the plywood smooth. We'll see!

The cottage at home is filled with surplus building materials. I find four old 2x4's, trim them even and round the ends, after pulling as many old nails as possible from each board.

The 2x4's will sand up nicely. Gonna have to find some colored chalk, along with a person who is a good chalkboard artist.

We have almost completed all of the weeding, not that it won't require ongoing maintenance. At the same time, all of our plants have grown to a point where they can better withstand a reasonable amount of weeds, and so far, they are outnumbering the bugs. we keep our fingers crossed, fully aware that gardens and the tragedies that can befall them are lurking and capricious.

For Father's Day, and for an early birthday treat, Elizabeth, Debbie and I went over to my mom's house. Debbie made chocolate zucchini cupcakes, with a homemade jalapeno frosting. Since it was an idea that evolved at the farm, we choose to consider it a work in progress. We'd have celebrated at the Pequot House on Fisher's Island, except for the thunder storms all around us, all day.

Day 32, June 19, 2010

Lost in the weeds for a couple of days with my trusty garden hoe. Remember, this is my first large garden, so as we design and plant, the weeds tend to overrun the planting-completed sections. Since I'm living with my arrogant decision to avoid black plastic sheeting, I have a much more folksy garden, and hopefully the hay we are spreading will keep the weeds down. So far, so good.

I'm really sorry about this American Gothic bastardization. When I decide to post this image of myself, on the penultimate day before my 53rd birthday, I choose to check out Grant Wood's 1930 masterpiece to see if I've taken on the same gaunt no-nonsense look of Wood's original subjects.

O.K., so I grew up on the satire of National Lampoon Magazine. Those who do not know what I am talking about, ask your parents. I, therefore, cannot resist the irreverent parody of this depression-era work. It is childish. I hope it makes someone laugh. Interestingly, Grant Wood was reported to say, "All the good ideas I've ever had came to me while I was milking a cow." I feel the same way about working in a field, although it is still too soon to decide if the ideas are good!

Sooo... the tomatoes are almost completely weeded, along with 70 hills of cucumbers, about the same number of pepper plants. The pumpkins are awesome... now that we can see them. Deb got me started, weeding the pumpkins before she had to leave for the afternoon. There are five rows of pumpkins. Each row is over fifty feet long, and by the time I finish cleaning out the rows, my fingers are stained black, and a blister on the palm of my left hand has broken. Combine that with a nettle attack on my right hand, and there is sufficient reason to call it a day at four p.m.

Day 29, June 16, 2010

When I decide to bring Elizabeth to the farm, I'm afraid she'll be immediately bored. Instead, she pokes around, asks a bunch of questions, ending with, "What should I do?"

For three hours, she pulls weeds in the tomato area, never complaining. She's an amazing worker for a ten-year-old. When she encounters a spider, she yells, "Spider!"

"Big one?" I ask.

"Nope, just a little guy with some color. He's not bothering me."

Audrey, my mother, artist, designer, retailer from way back, stops by to take some photos of the area where the stand will go. Can't wait to see her ideas, as long as they are simple.