Filled Out

Full sun all the way through, the temperature stuck around 75F.


I met Gizzie down in the barn this morning-- today was his first field day. We carried up a few trays worth of tomatoes to round out the store, then got started. Newport joined in with us and we cut 3 buckets worth of zucchini and 1 1/2 buckets of summer squash from the rows along the side of the greenhouse. We piled everything beneath the back awning, then gathered up 20 buckets/3crates/shears/elastics and hiked up the road to the forest field. Newport and Gizzie got on surprisingly well-- now that the summer help is gone everyone has dropped their guard. We cut another 3 buckets of zucchini (these rows are starting to die down, we've been cutting them since the first week in July), 5 buckets of summer squash, 1 bucket of kousa and 1 bucket of patty pan. Time was flying by so we got busy and stuffed 3 crates full of basil bunches, finishing just in time for lunch.


After lunch we got an emergency order from the wholesaler-- they were completely out of tomatoes, and tomorrow is pick up day for their restaurant customers. They wanted everything we could sell. We ran down to the barn with the boss and foreman-- packing 10lb boxes as fast as we could go. The truck came in an hour later-- but we had 100 boxes ready (CSA is tomorrow and that's all the boss was willing to part with). We'll make a good chunk of money on that one.

It was finally time for the big job of the day-- digging potatoes. We needed several hundred pounds worth for the CSA/markets. The boss drove us up to the hilltop with buckets and hoes-- we all pitched in and got moving tubers fast. The foreman came up to help and we really chugged along-- filling 15 buckets in a couple hours. Gizzie and I loaded everything into the tractor's front loader-- back to the store. We scrubbed and piled up a produce wagon's worth of potatoes for tomorrow. Day was done.


Gizzie and I set down on the harrow in the grass field for soda and cigarettes. He was tired and sun burnt, his hands chewed up with broken blisters from hoeing potatoes. Gizzie shook his head and said it was quite a day-- definitely a little rougher than market. He hasn't been bit by the farm bug yet, but he's been surprised. Gizzie has worked a lot of retail jobs before, most have been just short of soul crushing. It's different, he said:  the boss immediately trusted him with a lot of money and responsibility at market yesterday; noon meant lunch, closing meant go home (no one asks permission to eat or leave); no one asks to go to the bathroom, you take care of your own business (if you're far off in a field, you just walk into the woods); if you want a cigarette, you light up; you are trusted to write out your hours yourself; if you need water you get it; the boss talks to you and all the boys like combination sons/business partners/frat brothers/draft horses. Gizzie is in the middle of a little culture shock. As he said last night over some drinks-- it's surprising to feel human while at work, work is supposed to be some other life where we aren't ourselves. After a few weeks or months of feeling human you never want to go back, fortunately/unfortunately most literally can't. It was strange to think-- we've both lived only a few miles from this farm for most of our lives, but from the world we lived in (up till now) the farm might as well have been across an ocean.

So Gizzie got a lot to think (or not) about. Today was, admittedly, a great day-- the work wasn't too rough, the weather was perfect, the boss was on top of the world and nothing went wrong. 2 weeks. After then he'll have toughened up or have already left-- knowing my friend, a stubborn mule like myself, I think he'll stick around. We'll see what happens.

Aside:
Some of the day's work joy was soured this evening. This town is sinking-- the buried seams are buckling. Real young kids and even adults around my age are everywhere-- they gather by the 20s, 40s and 60s standing around their cars lined up in parking lots. They trickle in around noon and are still there at 4/5am, standing around. They stand around all day and all night. While they stand there, old retired folks line up at the convenience store buying scratch-tickets to pass their time. These old folks sit in their cars around the coffee-chain-store and days must somehow pass. Before writing this post, I went to buy a fresh pack of cigarettes. A "back-in-5-minutes" sign hung from the store's door and a man was sitting nearby in a lawn chair. He said he'd been waiting 2 hours for those 5 minutes to be up. 7-8 old folks milled around smoking and the parking lot kids came to try the door from time to time. An old woman lit up, talking aloud to herself/everyone, she said-- I don't give a shit, the store could burn for all I care, I am far past the point of caring about much of anything, I didn't have the sense to be dead young. She hobbled over and strained, sitting down next to the door to wait. I left without buying any cigarettes. There is a lot going wrong in this place/world and it isn't enough. It isn't enough to try and make yourself happy, it's not enough to pretend everything is for the best, and it's not enough to ignore all that's going from bad to worse. It's not enough to pout, it's not enough to despair saying there's nothing to be done and it's not enough to run. Seems to me there's nowhere left to run.

For now there is sweat, friends and thinking to do.

Take it easy.

Sun King

Full sun all day through, more planes flew overhead than clouds. The temperature stuck in the upper 70Fs-- but the sun was hot.

Pulled in a little early to find all the guys setting up the store. The foreman was out front sweeping, he caught me up on his car problems-- it was nearly totaled, he's driving a rental for now. Newport and Gizzie were inside sorting through the tomato display-- I laughed and shook my friend's hand-- damn, not 10 minutes in and he's already made himself useful. I took Gizzie down to the storage/workshop in the barn and we loaded up a tray with Purple Cherokees, Striped Germans and Japruce Truffel (my spelling is off here). We filled up the store and then met the boss out back.

The storm hit the fall raspberries-- the canes/new buds were fine, but all the developed berries were falling apart/soggy/molding/roughed up. Gizzie and the boss dropped off kitchen buckets in the far hilltop field (where I weeded alone way back in early April), they picked up the corn and got ready for market. The foreman had to spray the young corn. Newport and I were given a long day in the raspberries.

We joined up with Bah's group and Old Rudolpho's family-- then we got picking. Everything was going into the jam buckets. Time disappeared and we just picked. Newport and I joked around. Old Rudolpho taught us some more Spanish and used the words to tell us about taking his little grand-daughters to the beach to fly kites. I called up friends on their breaks and chatted around. Big Jay-Jay has been real chummy ever since I gave him a lift last week in the van (the rain came down hard and suddenly while the crew were out getting berries/corn, I came around in the van just as the downpour started)-- Big Jay-Jay waved to the women joggers going by and gave me a wink when he saw someone he really liked. Lunch happened, we ate it in the shade at the field's edge. Back to work.

The bees were out in force today. The bumble bees and honey bees were after the bud's pollen, the wasps were after the rotted berries. The big ones zoom around and sometimes crash into you, then either shoot off or start circling your head. The honey bees mind their own business. The wasps look for a fight. I counted three wasps climbing around me at one point: one on my arm, one on my bare knee and one climbing up my shirt. In the morning I was panicky and got bit a few times by the wasps, by the afternoon it was a matter of course. Constant smoking really helps--1. it keeps you occupied/relaxed from the bees climbing/buzzing around your head, 2. the smoke/smell shoos off even the most furious wasp. So I kept a light cigarette going, even when I didn't want it.

We didn't leave that field all day. Closing came around and we all packed up for home. I called up the boss to check on Gizzie's progress-- all good, all golden. Where did the day go.


I'm getting real excited for this weekend-- going to see Darlin and friends for a long weekend of relaxing. Friday can't come soon enough, but there's good stuff to tide me over: going for a drink with Gizzie in a few minutes, and going to work the Thursday market with him (hehehehe, we'll see if the boss lets that happen twice). Here's the sun king and he says: all is good.

Take it easy.

Overhaul

(Before getting started: The dog days of summer harvest haven't made for the best writing/reading. I'm looking to revitalize things, a lot. I've been dragging my feet, but maybe it's about time to update the site design. My brother is a web programmer and has offered to help out many times-- I've just put it all off for some other day. Well, I'm sure you might notice when things start looking different.)

(I left right after work to help move my brother into a new apartment, just got home at midnight. I'm beat. Let's stuff in some words before I collapse into sleep/coma.)

Cloudless sky all day through. Temperature was in the low 70Fs.

We made it through the storm fine. The streams and ponds flooded a good portion of the cow pasture-- but we didn't lose any of the herd. On the drive to the farm I pass through 300-400 acres of Veterinary school farm land-- today it was a mess. Trees were down everywhere, their feed-corn fields were snapped and busted. A crew had just finished sawing up a tree-trunk that had block off the town road entirely. The school is built on a hilltop and that damned them-- our hills saved us. The corn was twisted up pretty badly, but I didn't see huge sections snapped like up the street. The raspberries had been shook up-- a good number of canes had bowed down into the mud/lost their over-ripe berries. Otherwise, everything picked up as the day wore on-- the sun brought all the swamped fields (as Newport says-- plants want to live, so get out of the way and let them). The biggest trouble we had was hunting down the garbage cans (the boss forgot to put 'em inside)-- Newport fished one out of the pond, I pulled one from the woods edge on the other side of the tomato fields. The log bridge leading up to the forest field was swept down stream, but Newport and I rebuilt it during our rounds. The foreman made out the worst of everybody. He went down to visit his girlfriend in the city/ride out the storm this weekend-- but while he was gone a tree fell onto his new car in a parking lot. He didn't show at work, needless to say. But mostly, the damage was minimal. The electricity was out at the farm from late Saturday straight through to early Monday. Businesses in the town's center are still left in the dark. The boss had planned for a power-out (we only picked what we needed for the CSA/store on Saturday), so the cooler was empty-- nothing spoiled or went bad for want of refrigeration. The boss was in a stellar mood this morning.

After the damage assessment, we just picked up and started picking/filling that cooler back up. Newport and I joke all day-- today was magic, neither of us could remember hauling so much food. Bah has splintered off, heading up a small Vietnamese work crew-- they repaired the berries and picked beans. All of Old Rudolpho's extended family hit the fields (with the exception of his grandson Jay-Jay, who has started school)-- they picked hard veggies with me and Newport.

Before lunch we got: 12 buckets of zucchini, 15 buckets of summer squash, 7 buckets of patty pan, 6 buckets of kousa, 10 buckets of cucumbers and 5 buckets of pickling cukes. Somehow Newport and I managed to grab: 1 bucket of italian bull nose peppers, 1 bucket of fairytale eggplant, 2 crates of basil (all for the store), and wash/box/chill the entire morning haul-- finishing just in time for lunch.


After lunch the fun really began-- Old Rudolpho's crew hit the peppers. Newport and I ran around grabbing a few bunches worth of chard/kale/beets to round out the store. With all the chaos in town the boss really wanted to send a statement-- don't worry/pity us, everything is just fine and dandy. So we tidied up the store and got everything looking perfect. We got a start dragging everything together for tomorrow's big money market-- Gizzie's first day/proving ground. Then it was time to pick up the peppers.

I hitched the big wagon up to the wagon and the boss drove us up to the forest field. The harvest was a dream. 28 buckets of red italian bull nose peppers (and 4 big cardboard boxes full) , 18 buckets of ace/super shepherd red peppers (and 2 cardboard boxes), 8 buckets of red pepper 2nds (for hot pepper jelly) and 1 bucket of green peppers (hahahaha). Newport and I piled all the buckets into the front of the wagon and built a box wall across the back-- leaving the center empty, as it was cantaloupe time. Together with Old Rudolpho's family we filled the entire wagon and the front loader with melon. We rode back to the farm store sitting on the melon pile-- feeling like kings. With cigarettes ablaze, Newport and I shouted down to everyone in earshot/driving-by. It is a damn fine feeling.

We spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through/boxing up the peppers and carefully arranging the cooler. With so much melon the boss wanted to be careful-- so we set up a big pumpkin box in the cooler and stuffed it to overflowing (the cold will slow the ripening a little). With all the excitement the boss didn't have a chance to check the damage on half the farm, but he didn't care. Harvest hauls like today's are enough-- quite simply, they're enough to make anybody feel good.

With only a little time left Newport and I ran out to the cantaloupe patch near the store and pulled 50 melons (of a new variety) for the store/tomorrow's market. Newport decided he had no idea what a good melon looked like and left the cutting to me-- he hauled them from the field, 5 at a time, and packed 'em away. With the day done, we hunted down a good ripe melon for ourselves and sat on the harrow in a nearby grass field. I took my long knife and hacked it up into slices, Newport scooped out the seeds and muck. We laughed and stuffed our faces. It was a damn fine day.

Dead Sweat

Clear skies, full sun-- the calm before the storm. Temperature settled in the mid 80Fs.


Twelve hour days are long days. I am struggling here, trying to remember/type. It was another one of those everything days, so here's what I got:

--Lots of store work to start. Cleared out the trash, brought in the new veggies.
--Picked over the tomatoes and refilled the CSA trays.
--Wholesaled 150+ cantaloupe
--Refilled the wagon until overflowing with all the melons stowed in the barn.
--Newport and I cut 4 crates of basil, 10 buckets of zucchini, 8 buckets of summer squash, 1 crate of patty pan, 1 crate of kousa, 2 boxes of eggplant (1 big, 1 oriental), 2 boxes of red peppers.
--Set up the CSA and got the boss's daughter off to market with a fully loaded van.
--Washed, boxed and chilled all the day's harvesting.
--Shined/Sorted a few trays worth of moskvich, striped romans, rose, japanese truffel, big yellows and striped germans.
--Talked a little among ourselves about the coming storm, everyone's too exhausted/worried to show any concern anymore.
--The foreman and I double checked through the spinach he seeded last week-- getting back to those cool weather crops.
--The foreman and Viking had enough of Jockey (even though tomorrow is his last day), they tried to get the boss to flat out fire the kid. Unfortunately for their plan, the boss loves Jockey and his attitude.
--Then I watched over the CSA until long after dark.

Ops, Gizzie is here with beer. That means a long night and a hairy morning.

Batten down the hatches, Saturday post tomorrow.
It'll be a more serious affair I promise.

Take it easy.

El Lodo

Weather started clear and fine this morning-- that changed. A band of storms blew in from the West and the rain fell hard. A light drizzle filled the remainder of the afternoon. The temperature swung between 60F and 70F.

Arrived early again this morning-- hunted down Newport, we got the store squared away and then set up everything for the CSA/Double Markets. We headed up to the forest fields and cut 2 big crates of basil-- felt good to get away from the store/barn. I was off to a good start today-- my head is back in the work. Chatted for a long time with Newport up in the field, and that was good.

Back at the store the CSA spread was looking amazing. Today we had: tons of corn, tons of tomatoes (big buckets full of cherries too) , tons of cantaloupe, basil, peppers, green/yellow wax string beans, loose leaf/romaine lettuce, red/white potatoes, cucumbers, pickling cukes, spinache, beets, kousa, patty pan, summer squash, zucchini, big/oriental/fairytale eggplant and raspberries. We loaded the boss and his daughter up for the first market, then headed over to keep Viking company. She had her golden pheasant with her-- but unfortunately she'd been contacted by its real owner (a nearby farmer) and he was on the way to get it. Viking really loved this bird, but then again she loves every animal she gets her hands on.

Newport and I cleaned the entire area around the store-- then we headed down to join the crew, picking tomatoes.We picked through until lunch.


After lunch I got everything together for the next market. Tomorrow is Jockey's last day (Viking can't wait until he's gone), he came in and gave me a hand packing up the van. It's too bad, but the boss let Rhode Island go over the weekend-- never got the chance for him to work one more day in the fields. Newport came back from lunch and we all talked about the coming hurricane-- fears vary.

Newport and I headed back to the tomatoes, meeting up with Old Rudolpho on the way. Newport is remembering more and more of his Spanish, so they prattled away. I settled down and started working a row of Striped Germans-- the non-rotted tomatoes were gorgeous and well worth the hunt. I filled 6 buckets before one of Old Rudolpho's daughters whistled and pointed at the dark clouds quickly rolling over the hill from the west. It didn't take long to reach us-- the rain started immediately and heavy. We ran from the field with thunder at our heels, even Old Rudolpho managed a full sprint back to the barn. I joined Viking and Newport in the store-- we were all soaked to the skin. We laughed and had a few cigarettes, every time things let up for a minute, 10 minutes of deluge followed quickly behind. Then CSA started-- we rushed out back to find the awning tarp had nearly torn from the water weight. So Newport and I took turns shaking the water free-- I'm glad that I remembered to bring my rain-slick this morning.

I ran down to the greenhouse for a hoe and cut several drainage trenches around the yard/store. It was wet business. The foreman took the tractor through the mud and picked up all the tomato buckets we'd managed to fill, then dropped them in the barn. Newport and I joined Old Rudolpho and family for some sort/shining. There was a good number of buckets (30-40), so we turned on the radio and got to work. Old Rudolpho taught me some key words for today: lodo, seco and mojado. Over the course of a few hours the rain cut down to a light drizzle-- so we headed back to business. Newport and I checked/refilled the CSA produce, then met the foreman over by the greenhouse squash. A few weeks ago the foreman and Big Boy planted 2 rows of cucumbers for the late season-- it was time for weeding. Trudging through the mud we got the job done-- then spread a light 19-19-19 fertilizer mix around each plant.

Time had mysteriously passed, and closing time was getting closer. Newport and I joined up with Big Jay and Old Rudolpho for some post-rain tomato picking. Filled another 7 buckets or so before closing.


Un dia mojado-- that's the truth-- not a dry rag on me. My cell phone was destroyed by the wet. Ops. Gotta fix it before Darlin gets back from Ireland/before Gizzie starts working. Which reminds me-- I'm a little concerned about my friend's employment: he certainly has the worst start-date possible, the day after the hurricane hits. I've hatched out a little weekend plan, if he's game: Gizzie comes in Saturday morning/at noon and helps me with CSA/gets a farm tour. Gotta get him in, working and familiar before the chaos begins. We'll see if he bites.

The hurricane cometh. Get ready.

A Dull Knife

Full sun all day through. The temperature stuck to the mid-70Fs.


Lots of moving around and maintenance today. Time passed like a dirge, but that's how it goes sometimes.

The normal format doesn't really work for days like this so:

What we did today:
--Clear out the store, mopping out tomato/veggie juices (where flies lay their eggs).
--Refilled the store displays from the cooler produce.
--Wash/boxed zucchini/summer squash/patty pan/kousa.
--Packed 65 tomato boxes for wholesale.
--Packed 25 1/2 bushels of squash for wholesale.
--Went with the boss to the hill top fields to pick up bags of corn, then filled store displays.
--Sorted and shined tomatoes.
--5 minute lunch
--Unloaded romaine and loose leaf lettuce from the wholesale truck, then packed in the squash/tomatoes.
--Unloaded 2 palates of cardboard boxes from a tractor-trailer truck.
--Conga lined with the foreman/Newport: tossing cardboard bundles across the barn, stacked them in the new cleared area.
--Carried/cleaned out the big pumpkin boxes from the barn.
--Stacked cantaloupe in pumpkin boxes.
--Negotiated a wagon piled high with cantaloupe up to the awning edge behind the store (for tomorrow's CSA).
--Piled 2 more front loaders worth of cantaloupe onto the wagon.
--Newport, the foreman and I took the tractor out to load another run of cantaloupe into the tractor bucket (squeezed it all into the barn).
--Cleared out all the old cucumbers left in the cooler from the big run we had a few weeks ago (tossed 18 moldy crates worth).
--Picked zucchini and summer squash from the greenhouse fields. Washed and stowed in the cooler
--Washed and set out the potatoes from yesterday.
--Drove the van around with Newport, schlepped CSA tomatoes up for tomorrow and dropped off berry trays on the hill top (for the crew tomorrow morning).
--Day done.

Good thing:
People flock to Viking. A woman in town found a domesticated golden pheasant in her backyard, so she gave it to Viking. It's a gorgeous bird-- orange and bright yellow, the size of a chicken, with a long feathered tail.Viking called up her husband (he doesn't really have a job) and he started right away building a coop for the bird. We'll see how things go in the coming weeks.


Aside: Everyone is terrified about the potential hurricane. The boss doesn't think it'll affect most of the veggies: like squash/tomatoes/etc. But the fall raspberries and corn could be in real trouble. Everything is strong and developed enough that rain isn't the issue-- the roots are thick and deep enough to weather the storm. The wind on the other hand... It would whip the raspberry canes around, tearing off every berry, and could break the corn stalks right in half-- shutting down all ear growth for the year. And there really isn't anything we can do to shore-up the crop-- they're essentially on their own. A bad storm would be devastating to our season-- but, the boss says: the people in big trouble are the peach/apple orchard owners. A hurricane would strip the fruit and leaves off of every tree-- closing their entire production. Diversity of produce is key to survival apparently-- and we've got diversity, we don't rely on any one crop to make/break a year. All the same-- there could be trouble ahead.






I've gotten real exhausted-- just generally speaking. It's started to affect my work in a bad way-- I need to sharpen my brain knife and get back into it. I've just gone quiet-- listening, but hardly saying a damn thing all day. Maybe it's jealousy-- looking at Newport, he's cracking jokes with Bah and the boss. I don't have that rapport-- I just always worked hardest, and now I'm too tired. Maybe I've just hit a wall: a farm wall. Gotta break through this-- I'm hoping that my buddy Gizzie will be the key: making things fresh again. Viking thinks I miss the summer boys. And it's true-- things have changed since they left, it's a lot quieter and a lot emptier around the farm these days. I went from the head of a work crew back to just another field hand (with van privileges). Well, I've talked myself into more work-- I'm covering the late CSA shift on Friday and the early CSA shift on Saturday morning. It'll give me a chance to chat with the boss for once, maybe I'll wrangle Gizzie into helping out. Gotta wake up this zombied-brain of mine and get moving again. Slumps are bound to happen, but it's up to me how long they last. So,

Get moving.

But take it easy.

The Politics of Potatoes

Full sun all day through-- big clouds blowing by. The temperature stuck in the mid 70Fs. Newport, the resident weatherman, has a bad feeling about the beginning/end of this weekend. Possible heavy rain from the west on Thursday, then a hurricane is working its way up from the south: aimed to hit us Monday if it keeps on the current trajectory. No rain please, no hurricanes either. Fingers crossed.


Last Night: met up with Gizzie and my brother at the infamous 'rock diner' in town-- it's hidden far behind an old furniture factory, sandwiched between a rail yard and burned out gear factory. The diner car was converted long ago into a bar: it has since become the young-functional-drunkards' hole of choice. We sat outside in some plastic lawn furniture, smoking/drinking and chatting-- brought Gizzie up to speed (what to wear, what to do) and tried to put the fear of fields into him (just for laughs). My brother is headed back to school at the end of the week-- so every beer is precious. I'm antsy to get Gizzie working. So much going on at once.


Got to the farm real early today, I'm inching in a half-hour earlier each day. When I pulled in-- I had a surprise: the foreman rumbled by in the new tractor, with his girlfriend sitting up in the cab with him. I really don't know much about her, besides that she lives in the same city as Darlin (just like me, the foreman buses down every couple weekends to visit). The foreman has a secret argument with Newport over which of their girlfriends is the most attractive-- the arguments pitch back 'n forth depending on the week. Real surprisingly, the foreman's girlfriend stuck around all day: helping out in the barn, prepping/cooking tomato sauce in the kitchen, helping Viking in the store and riding around with the foreman. I guess she works as an assistant to an art dealer while in the city.

Since it was early, I gave Newport a hand setting up the store-- filling all the baskets and carting beets/lettuce/carrots from the cooler. We searched through the tomato display, throwing out all the ones that split or molded overnight. I met the boss down in the barn-- today was the big money market, so everything needed to be ready. The boss, the foreman's girlfriend and I loaded 60-70 boxes of tomatoes/30 cantaloupe into the van for market. I carried 8 tomato boxes/10 cantaloupe up to refill the store. The foreman delivered 10 bags of corn, I arranged 4 bags worth out in front of store (stowed away 4 more bags to refill the display) and tossed 2 bags into the van.

Viking almost missed work this morning. Her car's front right wheel got banged up and could hardly drive. But the boss saved the day-- he took Viking and her car to his farm mechanic in town and then drove her to work (ultimately they replaced the wheel/finagled the brakes and wheel connection thing: for just $80). Then Viking found $80s lying in the parking lot-- she ran around checking with everyone/customers, but no one claimed it. So she got her car fixed for just about free. In the store, she told me it was good karma coming back to her. She said that last night she found a dying Starlet (a small bird), she picked it up and tried to comfort it. It died soon after. Viking said that she and her husband cried themselves to sleep last night over the bird-- and then she dreamed about the bird. So the 80 dollars were a gift from the bird. I nodded my head and said, yes good karma-- but I was glad that she told me this story of hers and not Newport, he would have had a stroke.

Next up: bucket washing. The foreman dropped all the buckets we have out behind the store-- they were filthy, caked with rotten tomato skin/juice/dirt. Didn't miss this job. I arranged all the buckets out, filled each one with a couple inches of water and then scrubbed them one by one with an old broken mop that was lying around. Almost clean is good enough for field work-- so, I then pitched all the water/debris into the tractor road and stacked all the alike buckets together.

Time for fun-- potatoes were up next. Lots of potatoes. The foreman drove up the buckets, while Newport and I hiked to the backside of the hilltop. We pulled 4 buckets worth before lunch.


After lunch I met Newport at his car, we started to realize just what we were in for today-- lots of potatoes. The long pole hoes didn't work too well, so we carried hand-hoes back up to the hilltop field-- we took a nice little detour through the peach orchard and fall-raspberry fields. The boss wanted 15 buckets worth of potatoes, that is a lot. I figure that we fit about 60lbs worth in each, so 900lbs total of potatoes (10 buckets of red, 5 buckets of white). The sun beat down and we got dirty.

At one point we took a break and lounged in the shade for a smoke. Newport had something on his mind-- and it didn't take him long to say what. He was furious about two things that just happened, and he explained them in great detail. First--  an illegal immigrant was arrested, in the next town, for driving drunk with his 5 year old son in the passenger seat: he hit a 23 year old recent college grad on a motorcycle and dragged him 2 miles before stopping. The young man was very dead. Second-- in another nearby town, a young man is being tried for killing his girlfriend on their high school graduation day then chopping up the body and burying it in the swamp. Newport was very angry: he wanted the immigrant executed or deported and the boy executed. Newport has been seeing the inside of the local justice workings in the past weeks-- and has been very disappointed with what he's seen. He explained: if someone does something so terrible as these men did, they should be killed-- no one should pay for their life imprisonment. Newport was brutal: why should we be 'humane' by giving someone life-in-prison, when (as in these cases) they are guilty of denying others that same 'humane' right to live? Newport said: we need to realize, there are bad people in this world. They won't play by your rules. He said: the dead guy and girl had lives ahead of them, they were young and all that has been lost. Newport said: Justice doesn't fix anything, nothing is righted, nothing can 'get back' what is lost-- an execution cuts our losses, its flawed and not right: but the world is flawed and not right.
We buried our cigarettes and got back to pulling potatoes.

We pulled potatoes for some long hours. When all the buckets were finally full we carried them down to the edge of the stonewall. Hiked back through the peach orchard down to the barn-- it was filled with 60 full tomato buckets. Newport (in a much better mood) got the radio and we shined/sorted. The foreman dropped off 3 more tractor loads of buckets-- then left to bring down the potato buckets. Hours of music and tomatoes.

The light started to lower and it seemed to be getting late: half hour until closing. Newport and I walked around to the store and found the potato buckets waiting-- we managed to wash 5 buckets worth before the days end: boxed them up and stacked into the cooler. Another day done.


Take it easy.

Philadelphia Freedom

It was a September day-- too soon. Full sun with a warm breeze. Temperature stuck in the low/mid 70Fs.


Just me and Newport today.Things got off right this morning-- we pulled the awning off the roof and set it back into place (must have been a heavy wind storm last night). I drove the new van up to the forest field and picked up all the squash/zucchini/cucumber buckets the crew filled this morning. Back at the store, Newport and I cleaned up the yard and gave the daughter a hand filling all the produce containers. The time has finally come!


Newport and I met the boss down in the barn and stacked away an entire front loader full of cantaloupe. We set down big cardboard trays and piled 'em high. The boss brought 2 more front loaders full of melon-- simply amazing. It was gonna be a barn day, so Newport brought down the radio and we started sorting and shining the 84 buckets of tomatoes Bah and the crew picked yesterday.

Newport and I caught up on each others' business-- he'd gone off on vacation last Wednesday with his girlfriend. Big News: apparently the boss mentioned to Newport this morning-- there's a new employee, my buddy Gizzie. I've know this fella for years, years, years. He must have visited the boss this weekend, without telling me-- 'cause he was hired on the spot. Gizzie is an actor, just back from touring around the region with a traveling troupe-- he's a tall one and bone skinny. 2 weeks of hard days will do it though-- my friend will be reborn, farm tough. We've worked together in the past: once as parking-lot-cart-serfs for a wholesale club and then we spent a summer living/working together at a produce/deli shop by the ocean (those were storied times, I'll tell you that much...).  These straight picking days have been become a bit monotonous-- now things are bound to get interesting. Raise my glass and tip one to him, here ya go Gizzie, welcome into the club.

 Anyway, Newport and I shined away the morning. Old Rudolpho and family came over to lend a hand. They found Newport's taste in music hysterical-- singing along, vaguely, with each chorus. When an Elton John song played, Old Rudolpho set aside his rag and tomato-- then broke into a spinning, leg twisted, folk dance. We all broke down laughing, clapping and cheering him on. It was an easy morning to work. Lunch time.


After lunch I organized a final 40 or so cantaloupes into the barn pile-- then back to tomato shining. The Guatemalans and Newport trickled back from lunch. Newport decided to play some of the Beatles-- figuring, hey they're accessible, everyone likes the Beatles. Old Rudolpho and his daughters much preferred Elton John-- they made bad faces and sang loudly over the music. We finished up the tomatoes in a few more less-than-comfortable hours. Next up: we joined the crew cutting all the zucchini and squash along the greenhouse. It wasn't a massive haul-- but the blossoms are developing nicely, there will be a rush next week I'm sure.

The boss had errands to run out of town, so he called Newport and me over. We grabbed buckets, knives and crates.There wasn't much needed, but we picked 2 buckets of string beans (1 green, 1 yellow wax). Next, we sauntered over and cut one big crate of kale (1/2 red boar, 1/2 dinosaur). We carried the slim catch back to the store, just in time. The daughter was at the register on the phone-- it was the boss and he needed corn. Newport and I grabbed a bag and hiked up to the hilltop (to the corn field on the other side of the stonewall from the potatoes). We trudged through the weed jungle and packed 90 or so ears into the bag. Old Rudolpho's daughters walked over as we finished up-- quietly, they made hand gestures pointing to the corn. Newport laughed-- he speaks surprisingly good Spanish, he really caught them off-guard. Old Rudolpho's daughters wanted 4 or 5 ears for dinner-- still laughing we handed them 6.

Fall is really coming fast-- the sunlight has already started to change. Closing time wasn't far off but it felt much later. Newport and I stopped for a smoke break on the hilltop-- kicking back on a pile of boulders overlooking the peach orchard. He told me that he'd met his sister's girlfriend for the first time this weekend. He told her straight-- 'the way I think of it, now I got two sisters, and I rag on this one constantly: I don't mean anything by it, but it's my brother-duty to give you both as hard a time as possible.' They celebrated by drinking and exchanging their favorite gay/straight jokes. Good things are good, when you let 'em be.

Back at the store, we washed up and packed away all of today's pickings. Newport rotated all the older produce to the top of the stacks in the cooler, I just kept carrying in and piling up the boxes. The boss got back from his errands and joined under the awning for an end of the day chat. This is a big, turn around, market week-- trying to make up for the slack and rain earlier this month. The boss is happy to have Gizzie on-board, he figures we now have everyone we need to get through Fall harvest. There will be long days, early mornings/late nights, ahead-- but what else is new.

Bring it on, I'm ready for the Fall.


I've been slacking with the pictures-- maybe I'll do a photo day/give Gizzie a tour this weekend.
I like the sound of that. We'll discuss it over beers tonight.

Take it easy.

Clearing Out

Weather, weather, weather. Hot and clear skies all day until a few hours before closing-- big isolated thunderstorms passed on either side of the farm. The thunder was booming, but everything narrowly missed us-- only got 15 minutes of rain, then back to sunny/humid/hot. Temperature was in the upper 80Fs.

Met up with everyone in the barn this morning-- shifting around the tomato boxes. We set up 60 or so boxes for the CSA today, 15 boxes for the store and then picked through all the piles throwing out the rotten tomatoes. There was a major haul of new tomatoes coming from the fields today, so the boss/foreman/me threw 800lbs of imperfect/damaged old ones into the tractor bucket for the compost heap. Big Boy came in to work one last day before going back to school-- he helped NYU and me arranging all the corn/tomatoes in the store. Next job: Big Boy, NYU, the boss and I headed up to the hill top for more potatoes. We dug along and filled 8 bushel baskets (4 reds, 4 yukon golds).

Back at the store, we washed up all the potatoes and started setting up some more of the CSA produce. The foreman called me over and we made several tomato trips-- carting buckets from the field to the barn. 90+ buckets worth, I stopped counting after the third trip.

A few weeks back the foreman shattered the rotor attachment's cutting blades on some rocks (7/8in of solid steel simply shattered in half). The replacements finally arrived, so the foreman and I climbed under the encasement and got everything bolted into place. It's amazing how such a big piece of machinery can be so well balanced-- I could spin the blades with just a push of my finger. We tested everything out and headed to lunch.


Over lunch I sat and chatted with NYU. Exchanged our information and discussed a couple good bars for once he gets back from studying in Germany. The foreman came by and we actually discussed the possibility of splitting an apartment on the off-season-- his girl-friend lives in the city too, and he has been trying to get a foothold there for years. Rhode Island rushed out of the store with a newspaper-- apparently a local journal picked up my beet photo. We passed it around and the boys laughed their asses off.

After lunch everything slowed down to a grind. Big Boy and I helped the foreman carry over another load of tomato buckets from the field-- and we set up shop in the barn with Old Rudolpho and family. The lot of us shined and sorted through all the tomatoes. We prepared 100 boxes for wholesale (50 ripe, 50 unripe) and filled up 2 towers of tomato trays. Old Rudolpho saved a bucket of good tomatoes the boss didn't want for Bah. The boss came to check in on us and chatted with Big Boy/NYU about their school plans. After a few more hours work we'd sorted everything-- time to go pick more.

Me and the boys headed down to the trellises and picked all the cherries/big tomatoes-- filled 22 buckets. The thunderstorms blew in around us-- we hustled all we could carry up to the store to stay dry. Then back out into the rain-- fortunately for the tomatoes it didn't last long. Bah came down from berry picking and helped us finish up. The lower half of the big tomato field was next. The short rain left the field a muddy mess, but we inched along through the red pear/striped german/striped roman/big yellow rows. I sat down with NYU for a quick breather, it's too bad his last hours on the farm this year had to be so miserable-- he was soaking wet, covered with mud and exhausted. Well, the work goes on.


Closing time finally came around and it was time for goodbyes. Shook hands with NYU saying, see ya soon buddy. He's flying out to Berlin in a week for his semester abroad. Easy (the CSA guy) has his last day tomorrow, so I won't see him again-- handshakes and well wishes. Today was Big Boy's last too, slapped him on the back and told him to have a hell of a football season (funnily enough, I found out today that his real-life nickname at school/sports is 'the dough boy'-- I got close ahaha). Before heading out I met up with the boss out back and got my paycheck. It's been a rough 2 weeks money-wise-- a big weekend fair was rained out, 3 markets were a bust and the rain slowed the farm store's business to a crawl. Then piled on top--all the recent expenses: getting the van, repairing the water pump and the old tractor's broken hydraulic system. The boss was relieved that we've started dwindling back to just the skeleton crew (me, the foreman, Newport, Viking and Bah). It has been a bit tight keeping up with both the expenses and the summer kids' payroll. The boss wanted to check-in with me, and see if I wanted extra hours covering a late market/1 or 2 late CSA days every week-- my answer was, of course, yes. More work, more money.

I'm off for a little weekend trip with the family. And Darlin' is off on a 10 day trip with her family in Ireland. Stuff is inching slowly together, I like to imagine. I've all sorts of plans for next week-- gotta drive around with gift tomatoes for family/crazy neighbors/old teachers and such. Old friends are back in town (both recently unemployed, maybe this can be fixed: farmwise. Then again maybe not). There is lots of catching up and drinking to be done. I've been cutting down on the coffin-nails (or cigarettes, for you lay-people), and maybe the farm work has finally rebuilt my torn-up shoulders enough that I can start sparring again. Jesus, I'm becoming some sort of straight-laced old man. Gotta remember-- a little chaos now and then never did anyone no harm. The wheels just keep on turning.

Take it good and easy, this Summer will soon be gone.

Berenjena

Full sun all day through, heavy humidity sunk over the afternoon. Temperature was between 88-92F.


Stretch, NYU and I started off the day-- we ran over to the forest fields to lend Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew a hand picking eggplant and basil. Big-Jay was in today (Jay-Jay's father and Old Rudolpho's youngest son). We got 3 crates worth of basil and filled 10 buckets of big/oriental/fairytale eggplant. Seems that Old Rudolpho has had enough of hand gestures, so taught me the Spanish words for everything in the field then asked for the English equivalent. The store was going crazy in preparation for the double markets/CSA-- the boss called us over and we filled up all the crates and trays for market.

The boss, his daughter and Rhode Island rumbled off in the van-- back to real work. We joined the crew and picked string beans until lunch.


Today was Stretch's last day. NYU and I hung around chatting with him in the parking lot, wishing him luck at next week's game. Waved after as he pulled out of the grass field, see ya later friend-- might be the last I see of him.

After lunch NYU and I got the everything set for the second market and laid out most of the CSA produce. Then back to the beans. Bah was out pulling blackberries, so we hunkered down for more Spanish lessons with Old Rudolpho and family. It took another 4 hours of straight picking before the field was clear. The foreman was turning over all the spent fields-- the first few rounds of sweet corn has passed so he cut 'em all down. NYU and I pulled the irrigation line out of the lettuce field and stacked the pipes by the roadside-- no more lettuce, so they were all churned under the soil. Bah ran over beforehand and took 10 heads for home-- but I don't know how he can stomach it, once we stopped watering the leaves become very bitter-- like biting into a maple leaf.

With the beans picked, we made our way over to the tomato fields. We picked 40+ buckets worth of Rose tomatoes-- dirty rotten work, there's nothing like that mucousy tomato feel/stench. That said, there were much fewer bad ones today-- guess the fungicide did the trick. Closing time came around with half the section covered. The foreman brought the tractor around and I piled all the buckets onto the loader and rotor attachment-- then down around to the barn to unload. Sorting and shining tomorrow I bet-- but it was time to get home.

Tired week and tomorrow is NYU's last day--whelp, that's how it goes.
Take it easy.

Van Rights

Full sun all day through-- the wet finally dried out of the ground a little after noon. The temperature stayed around 85F.


Today was a good working day.

I met the NYU and Stretch out back this morning. We stuffed buckets into the van and the boss took us up to the forest field for pepper picking. Tomorrow is double market/CSA so the boss wanted a big haul. We filled 15 buckets, (the boss brought 8 packing boxes and it took all we had to fill 'em up) then filled 8 more buckets. Stacked all the full boxes/buckets in the shade, then culled through the Red Knight rows-- picking out all the damaged/eaten/fungus covered peppers. We headed back to the store to get knives and crates-- then off to the lower fields. We cut swiss chard until lunch, filling up 8 crates worth.


Stretch headed off to football practice, his first game is next week-- time surely flies. After lunch it was just me and NYU-- he laughed, saying it was just like old times back in the Spring. He was real excited to hear I'm planning on (at least) spending the winter living in the City (where he goes to school)-- we planned to share many drinks. The two of us returned to the lower fields to cut kale-- 3 crates of Red Boar, 1 crate of Dinosaur (the dinosaur kale isn't as bunchy as the red boar, you can almost fit triple in the same amount of space). NYU wandered out into the sweet corn to have a heated phone argument with his girlfriend-- I minded my own business and kept to the kale. We carried the catch back to the store and washed the chard/kale/shipped-in lettuce.

Rhode Island had finished up his kitchen work, so he came out and the three of us picked 4 buckets worth of zucchini from the rows near the greenhouse. NYU and Rhode Island started washing/boxing up the zucchini-- but the boss had plans for me. The farm has had some problems over the last couple weeks with our phone lines, so the electricians were in fixing up all the wiring-- which meant no phone calls, credit card machine or electricity. The boss and Jockey had bottled up 3 big batches of tomato sauce this morning, so the big jars all needed to be sterilized/sealed in boiling water. While they set up some big propane burners/big water kettles, I headed out in the new van to collect the full berry trays from Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew. I drove around, following the town road up to the hill top. Loaded up 3 raspberry trays and 1 of blackberries-- carefully bracing the trays against one another, so the long drive along the dirt roads wouldn't spill the berries.

Back at the farm store, I loaded everything into the cooler and joked around with the boys. New orders-- we loaded the van with buckets and hoes, it was time for pulling more potatoes. The boss drove us up the hill and checked over the fields-- the potato plants themselves are in rough shape. Most of the red/yukon potato plants have been eaten by the colorado bugs-- not a leaf in sight. Fortunately, the tubers are fully formed and the beetles don't touch 'em-- which is good, as the ground was writhing with countless larvae. NYU, Rhode Island and I always get on-- so we joked and chatted about all sorts of filth. The boss likes nothing more than a good dirty joke, so he stuck around and pulled alongside us. The boss gave Rhode Island some advice for his women problems and told us-- a man doesn't stay virile forever, even if he's ready and fit, circumstances won't allow it-- so enjoy it while it lasts boys. We pulled 4 buckets of reds and 4 buckets of yukon golds.

The boss drove us and the buckets back to the store. NYU and Rhode Island got busy scrubbing the potatoes-- but once again, I had special orders. The boss and I loaded up the van, then drove out to pick some corn-- maybe I'm becoming one of the few trusted to properly gauge an ear's maturity. Anyway, we picked 3 bags worth and stocked up the store for the night. Closing time was creeping up, but the boss had one more job for me and the boys. I drove 70 some cardboard boxes down to the tomato storage in the barn, then me and the boys loaded up 70 full tomato boxes for CSA tomorrow. The van was nearly overflowing with tomatoes, so I took the long steady road back to the store. We arranged all the boxes beneath the back awning and called it a day.


Whew, the rainy days this week really wiped me out-- but nothing like the dry and sun to get me moving. Feeling good, there are some busy days ahead. NYU, Stretch, Rhode Island and Jockey will be missed-- but work goes on, we'll have to push that much harder (earning my 'full-timer' title, ehehehe). NYU plans to weasel his way up the ladder farm once he graduates-- I think the farm bug has caught him finally.

Take it easy, more coming tomorrow.

The Phone in the Rat

Cloudy all morning, few spits from the sky-- but the rain never came. Cleared up in the afternoon-- some sun even peeked through. Temperature climbed a little from 64F up to the low 70Fs.


This morning started over the sinks. Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew were back at it-- they had on a picking frenzy. 40 some buckets of summer squash, zucchini, cucumbers and pickling cukes needed washing. NYU and the boss got packed up for market, Stretch/Newport/Big Boy and I scrubbed. Just as we got down to the last few buckets-- the foreman rolled up in the tractor with more cucumbers and cukes. Fortunately, it was my time to escape.

The store was low on everything, so Viking sent me to work. Picked 1/2 a crate of Dinosaur/Red Boar Kale and Swiss Chard, then picked 2 buckets worth of Green/Yellow string beans. I brought everything back to the store, the boss/NYU had left-- the boys were ready to go. We grabbed buckets and picked a couple more buckets worth of beans before lunch.


After lunch the assembly line began. Now that the rain has stopped the tomato fields are overflowing. Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew set out to pick-- and the haul was huge. Newport, Big Boy and I got to shining/sorting out the tomatoes in the barn as fast as we could. Emptying the buckets, so the foreman could bring them back to the crew for more tomatoes. It was endless. We sorted many ways today: 1sts for wholesale, 2nds for wholesale, 1sts for ripening/keeping, 2nds for keeping and trash. The foreman made 8-9 tractor trips (with about 300lbs per trip, so 2,400- 3,500lbs total).

Fall is coming on fast-- both Stretch and Big Boy started football practice this week (Stretch left at noon, Big Boy left mid-afternoon). As we sorted tomatoes, minute before leaving, sick-tragedy fell on Big Boy. He slipped and dropped his cellphone (he calls and messages his friends ceaselessly), he dropped it into the liquid-rotted body of a dead rat. When Big Boy picked up his phone it was covered in what looked like wet cat food. He was upset.

Newport scrapped up the rat remains with a shovel and pour down rubbing alcohol and water-- then back to sorting. We kept at it the rest of the day-- and I bet there will be much more sorting tomorrow.

Not much more to it-- a long, slow day.

Take it easy.

Rivers 'N Grease

Back from a city weekend. Feeling good, feeling light, feeling ready. Ready for work and postings.


Hard rain all day through, our first real weekday washout of the summer. Temperature stuck at 65F.


My brother dropped me off this morning, I had the full regalia: rain slick and the new boots (their trial by fire). Joined up with the foreman, Stretch and Newport out back-- hiding beneath the tattered tarp awning. One quick job: we took hoes and shovels to clear out some drainage trenches around the store/greenhouse/barn. The boss showed up and we got to business.

Enough tomatoes have started coming from the fields that its no longer possible to keep them out behind the store-- from now on, everything goes to the barn basement/workshop/storage. It's an ideal tomato location: the temperature is pretty consistent (60-70F), no rats/vermin (thanks to the 3-4 feral barn cats) and is easily accessible when it comes time for wholesaling. 65 buckets of tomatoes where set in the doorway, we set up and got to shining/sorting. Shining is especially important this year, giving us a chance to wipe off the fungicide alongside the dirt/rotten leaves. (Last year was perfect dry growing, no need for -cides of any type.) So we got shining. Only 3 categories today-- 1sts ripe, 1sts needing to ripen and 2nds. Newport brought a radio down and plugged in his music. The water bucket we used to dampen our wipe clothes went black from the dirt/fungicide/tomato plant remnants. We worked at a frantic pace-- all of us not-so-secretly hoping the boss would send us home early after the job was done. Finished up the shining/sorting in no time.

Next up-- greenhouse cleaning. It was a wet walk up, it was a thick drenching rain. The boss decided no more lettuce this year-- we have too much to worry about with the corn/squash/tomatoes/peppers/everything else. We'll just buy-in what we need for the store/CSA from neighbor farms. So we dumped out all the lettuce seedling trays (they looked badly neglected, someone has habitually forgotten to water them on the weekends). Sorted out all the empty trays and cleared off all the wood palates. Organized all the fertilizers, herb/pesticide containters, tools and tables. We hefted up the palates and stacked them up against the left greenhouse wall. We found some enormous wasp nests (each had 200-300 angry wasps humming). Newport and I got the poison and sprayed them down. Stretch got bit by an angry escapee, so we let him have his vengeance on the remaining nests (2 in the greenhouse frame, 1 in a pick crate and 1 underneath a saw horse). Newport and I lit memorial cigarettes in the wasps' honor. With the floor space cleared, we went around and easily pulled all the weeds growing out of the dirt floor. Raked down the floor and tossed all the mess in the trash. Stretch and I went through all the tools and sorted them based on how frequently they're used-- hoes/rakes up front, grub-hoes and axes in back. Lunch time.


Ate my soggy sandwich on a milk crate in the store with Rhode Island and Jockey. After lunch I helped the boss load all the 2nd tomatoes from the barn into the van, then into the kitchen. Time to make tomato sauce. Newport, Jockey and I got busy: first hand washing every tomato (15 boxes worth), then coring out the stem piece with knives and finally dicing them into kitchen pails (also with knives). We filled 5 big buckets. The boss has a wild machine from yester-year-- 1950's electric tomato de-seeder. Hunks of tomato go in, the skin/seeds/scars/imperfections ooze out one end and a pure tomato pulp drips into a bucket. But Jockey, as kitchen man, handled all that-- Newport and I were on barn duty. We cleaned the barn out head to toe: organized all the cardboard boxes (berry/pumpkin/tomato/shipping/picking/otherwise), stacked the baskets/pint & quart containers/plastic-bag dispensers/field cloth/plastic wrap/styrofoam/ pick crates/rope coils/bushel crates & boxes/olde-time steel pick trays. We organized everything-- fortunately both Newport and I are a bit obsessive compulsive. I climbed into the basement and Newport threw all the big tomato storage trays/the smaller wholesale tomato trays down between the floorboards to me. We stacked 'em up and organized them in the basement/storage room where we shined/sorted earlier. What's next?

Newport and I met the foreman in the greenhouse-- he'd somehow managed to drive tractor completely inside. We cleaned all the windows and cab interior. Newport called it an early day. I stuck around and helped the foreman grease all the tractor's joints. Almost every movable joint in the tractor (front loader/wheels/rear power box) has a tiny steel cap-- which connects to the nozzle of our hand cranked grease gun. So the foreman and I climbed all over the tractor hunting out and greasing joints. Most joints only require 2-3 cranks before grease spills from the seams (our sign that it's well lubricated), but the rear axle enclosure required somewhere around 160 cranks before the grease spilled out. We popped the hood and vacuumed/cleaned out the air filters. Closed up the hood and searched over the entire machine looking for something to do. The foreman climbed on top of the tractor cab, straightened out the radio antenna with a smile and sat down for a cigarette-- all done.

The boss was nowhere to be found and there was nothing to do. It was just the foreman and me left, so we took the shovel/hoe out again to fix up the drain grates/erosion pools lining the boss's brother's garden. With that done, there really was nothing left to do. The boss called and told us to get on home, maybe tomorrow will be dryer. Maybe.


Asides: Whew, feels good to do a full post after the weak thursday/friday efforts of last week. Jimbo definitely kept me guessing with his semi-surprise visit. He certainly gave me a lot to think about. We sat up on the hill top and he ran through a couple of the soil development programs he's been studying. The real problem farms are in right now, as far as developing soil goes, is that almost everyone is depended on petroleum based fertilizers. It's the cheapest, it's the easiest to manage (tons of time/technology devoted to its use), but the coupled rising cost/diminishing supply its future is suspect. The answer is animals. Jimbo worked side-by-side with an agro-pioneer whose developed a systematic method. Here's the basic lowdown: grow grass in a field and portion it into a manageable grid, graze a cow herd on the grass moving them between sections every couple days, 3ish days after the herd has moved on introduce a full coop of chickens into the grid space (it takes 3ish days for maggots/other larvae to hatch inside the cows feces), the chickens break up the manure and shit the grub nutrients back into the soil, (after moving the chickens to the next grid space) plant tubers everywhere (like diakon radishes/etc), when they mature (after months) send in the hogs, the pigs will root up the radish tubers turning/mixing in the green matter/feces/soil with their own excrement essentially doing a passive plowing for you. Through Jimbo and his buddy's experiments they found this method can add an inch of grade A+ top soil a year. For a bit of context-- it took my boss's forefathers a generation of dairy farming for every inch of top soil they got. Amazing. I really hope Jimbo has got something here. A functional topsoil development program free of petroleum products would be huge. Anyway, Jimbo shared many such farming schemes over the course of his visit-- he's changed a lot I might add. He was always a fellow obsessed with ideas, but now he's started to temper his ideas with their application-- and he'll be the first to tell you: where ideals and reality meet, is a bloody disappointing mess. Many great sounding ideas just don't work, others work but ultimately require so much labor and energy they might as well have failed. It was a good visit. And a good kick off to spending a wild weekend with Darlin and friends in the city.

As I said earlier, I'm ready to go-- if it only wasn't for all this damn rain.

Take it easy.

Beans and Business

Well, Jimbo certainly threw a wrench in my posting yesterday. It was good seeing the guy, we had lots to catch upon. Anyway, writing this from the bus-- on its way to the city. So, on with it.


Full sun all day through. Temperature in the low 80Fs.

When I pulled up to the store this morning, the boss was in the van waiting for me-- all the boys were piled in back. I hopped in and we got off to the forest field. Stretch, NYU and Newport were on basil bunching/basil weeding duty. The trimmer was packed in the van-- my job was to clear out the travel aisles between the pepper rows. Got trimming. Finished up and gave the boys a hand with the basil-- after the weeding, we filled up 4 crates (25+ bunches each). Back to the store.

The boys hosed off the basil and soaked up some lettuce left in the cooler. I trimmed the fields around the store, getting things clean and pretty for CSA this afternoon. Finished up in time for lunch.


After lunch we got big orders-- pick all the string beans. Pulled a stack of buckets and walked down to the lower fields. Picking time. After 2 hours the boss called me over-- cut a bucket of zucchini from the new squash rows by the greenhouse. Then back to the beans. We picked straight through until closing (got 14 buckets worth, quite a catch). Payday-- then got veggies to bring Darlin in the city. Home then to the bus.


Whew, these past couple day posts have been pretty weak. I blame Jimbo, ehehe.

Asides: Viking brought in 2 kittens this week- she's giving them to Mouse and her sister. Viking has 5 cats already (her mother-in-law may or may not have 15), she needed someone to take 'em off her hands.

Lots of protests at the town center this week. People marching around with placards, yelling for jobs. NYU and I had a chat with the boss on this subject. Both NYU and the boss took the US credit downgrade very personally. But the boss's perspective is pretty blunt and grisly-- the economy will never be what it was, ever-- it was a lie. He is not optimistic. But then again, neither are NYU and I-- after the boss conversation, the two of us counted our farm blessings: we will always have a job with the boss (if/when we want it), no matter how nasty the rest of the country gets. I'm afraid a job like this might become more and more valuable in the years ahead. Then again, I'd be here doing this job whatever the political weather-- I guess the economic context just makes the icing sweeter. Oh hell, oh well.


This week was full of sweaty grunt work, but next week is the big goodbyes. NYU, Jockey, Rhode Island and Stretch are all headed back to school-- really only Newport, Viking, the foreman and me left. It's gonna be a big change and a lot more work-- probably a lot quieter/lonelier too. Got the help wanted sign up, we'll see if any good hands bite.

On to the city-- back with real business on Monday. Lot has change, lot is changing-- but Monday. Deal with it all on Monday.

Blackberries

Late night edit:
Whew, pretty late now. Ready for sleep. But here's the quick day run down:

Picked raspberries (2 trays)
Picked first blackberries (3/4 tray)
???? (can't remember...)
Prepped for CSA

Lunch

Cut: Summer squash, zucchini, kousa, patty pan, cucumbers, pickling cukes and eggplant.
Cleaned buckets
Picked raspberries (1 tray)
Picked string beans (7 buckets)

Jimbo showed up at the farm a half hour before closing-- he got out and picked with us.
A mover and shaker, this friend of mine. Well, I'm exhausted and tomorrow is city bound, so bed.

I'll post some real business tomorrow from the bus.

Take it easy.

Rain and Rot

Heavy rain and thunderstorms pushed through last night-- lost a big tree in the woods around our house. We've had enough rain for a while-- the wet is gonna damage the tomato harvest-- so no more until September. Full sun all day through-- quick thunderstorm blew through immediately after closing. Temperature stuck at 79F.


Rain blew off early this morning-- Old Rudolpho and his family decided all the same to stay home on account of the wetness. Stretch and NYU got set up at the wash sink to finally get started cleaning off everything we've picked this week. Bah, Newport and I headed up to the forest fields for a serious round of pepper picking. Only the blocky green peppers are ready-- the Ace and Super Shepherd (if I remember rightly). The Italian bull nose (or Red Knights) shouldn't be picked green, so there is some time to wait until they reach mature pepper redness. So we cut peppers like crazy. Filled 5 big cardboard boxes (equal to 2+ buckets a piece), then 9 tall buckets-- so about 19 buckets worth of green peppers. Then we got a start on cutting basil-- got 15 bunches before lunch time.


After lunch, as Newport said, Stretch and I got the short end of the stick. The two of us headed back to the forest field and cut another 35 bunches of basil. Brought the crates back to the store and were intercepted by the boss. His brother needed some strong hands.

Stretch and I got some work gloves, then headed to the far side of the hill top by the Taylor raspberries-- the boss's brother was waiting for us in his backhoe/heavy tractor. Way, way back in early spring when the boss and I set up brush fires-- we stacked up a big pile of trees/logs to save as firewood for this winter. It was time to move the pile into a more accessible/less in the way position (only the brother's tractor is powerful enough to heft 6+ trees at a time). Between Stretch, me and the brother in the tractor, we wrestled the logs & trees onto the iron forklift arms.After a couple fully loaded trips with the tractor-- the pile was all set in its new place. We found 2 steel gates we'd left beneath the pile (pulled them from the roadside brush this spring)-- so Stretch and I hefted and carefully balanced them on the forklift. The brother drove them back to the greenhouse along the town road (we followed behind on foot to wave traffic back)-- then we moved the gates onto the empty wagon.  Whew.

Next up-- the boss sent Stretch and me to join Bah picking tomatoes. We slugged through the trellised big tomatoes and cherries. We got quite a haul-- then happily checked the time. To our horror, it was only 3pm-- spirits were crushed. The foreman, Newport and NYU were out behind the store shining tomatoes and boxing the washed produce-- we started shambling through the tomato fields.

Worked in a daze for the rest of the day, picking tomatoes. The rain has done a number on the ripening tomatoes-- lots of rot. The rest of the boys eventually came down to help out picking-- but the day continued like a dirge. Picked slowly through and covered 2/3s of the field before closing.

Again, the boss intercepted us on the walk back to the store-- he needed help with 'something.' No one said a word, so I volunteered. The boss waved everyone else home, but I got into the van-- we were headed to the hill top to pick a few more bags of corn.

Up on the hill it was just me, the boss and Lucy the dog. Wasn't so bad. The thunderclouds were sweeping out in the distance as we hustled through the corn rows tearing of ears. All the bags we brought had big holes at the bottom, so we carried armloads of ears back to the van. More than enough corn to cover the store for the night-- the boss says we'll need at least 20 bags (1,200+ ears) for double markets and CSA tomorrow. We rolled in a slow loop around the hilltop checking on the progress of all the fields-- looking damn good:

Butternut squash is forming, buttercup squash is well into blossoming, the sugar pumpkins are in bloom, fall corn is growing out, feed corn for the cows over winter is 7ft tall and climbing (just starting to put out its tassels, potatoes are still cookining underground, fall raspberries are moving along, fall/late summer tomatoes are keeping pace, broccoli/cauliflower/brussel sprouts/cabbage are starting to settle.

Whew, overtime day was done and the thunder blew over.


Looks like my buddy Jimbo is passing through tomorrow night for just a quick visit-- no time for the fields. Oh well, there's always some sort of next time.
Time for a dinner and sit.

Take it easy.

Clouds and Cabbage

Sunny morning, dark clouds covered over the afternoon. Occasional drizzles, but rain didn't start until after closing.


Made my way down to the greenhouse this morning and watered up the seedlings-- 4 rounds of lettuce left (6 trays apiece) and the 5-6 rosemary pots. The boss and Jockey headed out early for the big money market-- leaving the rest of us with some big projects to get done.

Newport, Stretch and I headed up to the raspberries (mid-hill over by the horse pasture), picking time. Big Boy and Rhode Island climbed the hilltop to transplant a big set of broccoli and brussel sprouts (the rest of us rolled our eyes hearing that they were going off alone).  The bees were everywhere in the berry field-- we picked 1 1/2 trays before Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew came to lend a hand. We finished up the field, getting 3 trays total (75ish pints). Me and the boys grabbed our water and hiked up to lend Big Boy and Rhode Island some hands.

They hadn't even finished 1/3 of a bed in the 2 some hours they were up there-- and Rhode Island had planted all of it. He was very happy to see us. Big Boy was sitting crossed legged by the woods edge poking at the dirt. Newport corralled him back over. Between the 5 of us, we finished planting the broccoli and got a start on the sprouts. Lunch time.

After lunch Big Boy, Stretch and I climbed back up the fill and sunk in more brussel sprouts. The rest of the boys trickled back into the field. Drizzled on and off as we completed the sprout tray (all together, we filled 2 1/2 beds). Weeding time.

Got the hoes and hand tools dirty clearing the thick growth around 2 beds of broccoli and 2 beds of cabbage. Bah came over as it started to lightly rain. He found tons of pig (or was it hog?) weed mixed in with all the cabbage beds-- his wife cooks the leaves down with water,salt and shrimp. We helped Bah find and cut 2 big plastic bags worth of the hog weed. Back to pulling weeds. We inched along and horsed around, catching up on all of Rhode Island's vacation exploits. The foreman came to help us out-- it took most of the afternoon, but we finished the 2 long beds of broccoli. We started hacking back the cabbages' weeds-- finished half a bed by closing.

Homeward bound.


Viking isn't back till tomorrow-- it'll be good to finally have NYU in the fields again. Hope he hasn't lost his edge. Over lunch NYU was telling me that the store has him bored out of his mind, he's itching at the gate to get outside. No word yet from my buddy Jimbo-- then again, he's the sort of fella who just shows up. Maybe he'll get in late tonight-- ready for a day in the rain tomorrow. Well, here's hoping.

Take it easy.

Hawks Above

Much done, much to write. But first:

Had a fine time drinking and catching up with the family this weekend-- I've been out in the fields/bouncing to the city so much that it'd been a long time since meeting up with all the uncles, aunts and cousins. Sometimes you have one of those moments when reality catches up on you-- my cousin is having a baby in September. But what really got me-- her husband was real excited and asked me about bringing the baby to the farm to get pumpkins in October. Man, that just hit me at that right angle. I really hope they come on by, I'll give 'em the best damn pumpkins the world has ever seen. Hahaha-- It's the little things that really get a person excited sometimes.

In other news-- I got a phone call last night from a dear old buddy that had fallen off my radar into some jungle in Nicaragua. Turns out this fellow, Jimbo, is back state side-- looking to catch up/get to work. So ol' Jimbo is coming to stay a few days this week and put in some hours at the farm. He was studying/working tropical-climate farming, so I expect he'll pull his weight just fine. Jimbo is due to arrive tomorrow night or Wednesday-- safe travels to him. We got a lot of talking/work/drinking to do.

On with it already.
----------------------------------------------------------
Hawks Above

Strange weather today. Temperature stuck around 79F, but the humidity was near a swampy 100%. The boys decided that the problem wasn't so much the heat itself, or the humidity, but the damn sun. Stayed clear and miserable for the most part, but dark isolated rain clouds passed over a few times bringing brief and heavy rain. Cooled off during the rain, but once it left-- the sun felt twice as hot.


Busy day. Held up in road-construction traffic, so I got to the farm 10mins late. The foreman, Newport and Stretch were lounging around the tractor waiting for me. They busted my chops, then we got on with it. We all climbed aboard the tractor with buckets, crates, knives and shears-- then rolled out to the forest fields. Picking day. We fanned out and cut: 4 buckets of zucchini (found a monster as thick as my leg, as long as my arm), 6 buckets of summer squash, 2 buckets of patty pan, 2 buckets of kousa, 4 buckets of eggplant, 3 crates of beets and 1 crate of basil. The boss brought everything back in the van, then we followed on foot-- back to the store.

Washed up and boxed the kousa/beets. Bah and Old Rudolpho's crew was out doing a heavy tomato picking-- we ferreted full buckets up beneath the store's awning. New orders-- Newport, Stretch and I grabbed a tray of pints/buckets and headed out to the crappy rows of raspberries out mid-center of the lower fields. The picking was slow and staggered-- weeds had swallowed up most of the berry canes. We only managed to get 8 pints. A rain cloud swept overhead and we covered the berries with our shirts-- if picked raspberries get wet they mold in mere hours. Carried back the mostly empty tray and headed to lunch.


After lunch I stumbled into Rhode Island-- he's back from his 3 week vacation, so he's still a bit outta step. Tomorrow is the first full staff day in a few weeks: Rhode Island is back now, Viking/NYU/Big Boy are back tomorrow. The 8 pints of raspberries had already sold. The store/cooler was cleaned out of every berry we had, so-- Newport and Stretch headed to the blueberries and I stumbled down to the day-neutral strawberries.

The rows were looking a lot better than usual-- many more and bigger too. I inched my way down the three 500yard rows, but still only filled up 8 quarts in 2 hours. Brought back the quarts to the store and waited out a few minutes worth of rain-- then out to join the boys in the blueberries.

We picked along and managed to fill 3 trays (25+ pints apiece). Newport and I took a break on a big rock that rises up out of the middle of the field-- hawks were flying everywhere. We laughed watching a tight group of 70 or so sparrows chasing off a big ol' red tailed hawk. Closing time was a few minutes off and the heat finally caught up to us. We all hunkered down under the bushes for some cigarettes and bullshit/conversation. We carried back the final half filled berry tray to the store and met the boss-- he was happily shining and boxing 500lbs worth of big tomatoes.
Day is done, so home we run.



Aside: got a new pair of boots. Those Wolverines just couldn't hack it. Work/construction/hiking boots can't handle this job-- flipping between dry dusty heat, pouring rain, 1 foot deep mud, and every job in between. Most options disintegrate (like my old Wolverines), leak or get torn to shreds. So I upgraded.
Logging boots are it:
--They cover/lace half way up the calf (no more lower leg poison ivy, no more rolled ankles while carrying buckets of potatoes down a rocky hill)
--Steel shanked (more of an inner steel skirting than a steel toe, so if a horse stomps my foot all my toes aren't guillotined by the steel boot. But no more busting toes while dragging/kicking rocks out of the field-- Double plus!)
--Heavy water-proofed (supposedly everything is these days, but I like the leak protection on the shoe-tongue)
--The sole is attached by triple stitching around the edge and bottom, then reinforced with metal-polymer screws (haven't found a boot that holds up enough yet, but this seems like the last-best chance)


Today was the first time I've wore 'em, so they need to break in-- but all 'n all, so far I love 'em. The company is called Carolina, but they're made in China. It figures that last time (the wolverines) I bought US and they disintegrated, we'll see how these go.


Well, take it easy. Back tomorrow, maybe with the help/company of my buddy Jimbo.

The Big Sweat

Full sun all day, big clouds here and there in the early afternoon. Temperature was a straight 88F in the shade.

Today was one of those long ones that never end-- long, but so much got done.

Pulled in this morning to find Newport waiting for me by his car. The boss headed out west state before sunrise to pick up the repaired water pump-- the repairs were much more serious than expected (new internal bearings, patched priming mechanism, replaced all internal gaskets, some inner bits connecting the fan to the PTO had rusted through and were replaced). The boss was on his way back, but still an hour out-- he wanted the water running the second he returned. So Newport and I had some piping to do.

With the irrigation out of commission for the past week (and no rain), the center of the tomato field had become a bit stressed and wilted-- time for the big gun. We carried out the big-gun from the barn and set in the middle of the center tractor road-- must have weighed 200 and something pounds. We ran a 4in pipe straight from the tomato field's water gate and hooked it directly to the gun, no reducer-- just a 4in column of water flowing like a freight train.

Next up-- we attached the strawberries' drip lines in the lower field and attached water gun lines through the chard/kale/beets and through the lettuce. Hustled over to the forest field and sorted out all the drip lines through the squash/cucumbers/peppers/eggplant/basil/cantaloupes. We headed back to the tomato field and attached up all the tomatoes' drip lines and got the drip running through squash/cantaloupe outside the store all squared away. The boss pulled up as we checked over the last nozzles. Newport and I dragged the water pump into the yard outside the greenhouse-- the foreman wasn't back with the tractor yet, but the boss didn't want to waste any time. We hopped into the van and chugged up the hilltop to collect Bah and Old Rudolpho's corn bags.

The boss crept the van along the tractor road in the middle of the field, I walked behind hefting the full bags up to Newport-- who piled them into the van. 17 bags of corn. We dumped the bags at the store and met the foreman down at the horse pond. Got the pump all connected up--the foreman and Newport ran out to check/clear the lines, while the boss and I got the water going. There's a big difference after the repairs-- the suction line fills up in no time. I got my first chance behind the tractor wheel too-- nothing fancy, but still. The boss shambled over to the far side of the horse pasture to keep an eye on the big gun, I sat in the cab inching up the PTO throttle-- from 10,000 rpms up to 23,000 rpms. The resulting high water pressure projects the beam of water higher and farther-- allowing it to spread/mist out into raindrop size by the time the water hits the tomato plant. This big gun drops an inch worth of water coverage every hour-- immense. The boss gave me the thumbs up and I sprinted over to help him check over the cantaloupe/squash drip.

Newport, Stretch and the foreman came over and we started trying to patch up the leaky drips-- it's supposedly a lot easier with the water flowing. The heavy water pressure pushing the big gun was too much-- all our splicing/plugging attempts exploded. Plastic adapters and steel bracers rocketed everywhere. The boss had bought parts a few sizes too small-- the foreman's sanity was ready to snap, he was furious. Soaked, muddy and on-edge we sloshed off to a late lunch.


After lunch, Newport and I kicked around the store helping Stretch, Easy, NYU and Jockey get the CSA setup in order. The boss met us and new orders-- Newport and I were going picking. We grabbed knives and each took a tower of 12 buckets-- then marched the long road up to the forest field. Walking by the tomato field we saw that the foreman had cut off the big gun and Bah/Old Rudolpho's crew was out picking. In the forest field we got right to it-- cut: 2 buckets of zucchini, 3 buckets of summer squash. Stretch came up to help us out and we cut 1 bucket of patty pan and 1 bucket of kousa squash. The foreman called me up-- he was starting the water artery leading up to the forest field. Stretch and Newport got a start on the eggplant while I ran down field to check the connections/headlines. Everything was going fine until the water pressure burst a steel bracer in the headline and a torrent erupted. The foreman sprinted out of the woods and between the two of us, we muscled the pieces back together (water still running) and replaced the brace. Soaked from head to toe-- man do I need new boots, the both toes are blown out.

I slogged down and joined Newport/Stretch picking eggplant-- the water guns soaked us through (just assumed I'd be sopping wet the rest of the day). We got: 3 buckets of big eggplant, 2 1/2 buckets of long oriental eggplant and 1 bucket of fairy tale. The boss picked up everything and dropped off more buckets-- it was cucumber time. And what a time it was.

As Newport said-- I can't swing a dead cat without seeing 40 goddamn cucumbers in front of me. The new plastic wrap planting method has worked wonders-- there's never been a cucumber harvest like this one. I filled a bucket covering just 6ft of plant vine-- one bucket fits 30-40 depending on its size. We filled 18 buckets, that's about 1,000lbs of cucumbers in 2 hours. Amazing. The boss laughed sadly when he came to pick up the buckets-- he had no idea what we'd do with them all. Picked the pickling cukes next and filled 6 buckets-- and we only stopped because there simply were no more buckets left. We cut and bunched a big box worth of basil-- 50 some bunches. Newport and I were ready to collapse.

We marched down the hill path, basil in hand. Closing time was here. The boss met us by the road side, perched up in his brother's open air tractor-- on his way to pick up the pickling cukes and straggling buckets of cucumbers. Checks were waiting for us in the store, he said get on home and take it easy this weekend-- don't do anything I wouldn't do. Like drugs?-- Newport smiled at him. The boss roared off in the tractor laughing to himself.

Got the check and got myself home. I am wiped out.


Take it easy.

Market Day

Sunny all day through, temperature stuck to the low 70Fs.


Action packed day. I pulled up to the farm store to find the boys were out with Bah and Old Rudolpho pulling potatoes-- so I got up to my own business. Strolled down to the greenhouse, checked on the seedlings, and filled the trimmer with fuel. Got down to the trellised tomatoes and started clearing the aisle ways-- the grass/weeds had grown to 5ft tall in places. It was slow going-- hacking down a jungle and precisely trying to avoid tomatoes/plastic wrap are terrible tasks to attempt at the same time. Inched along and finished up the 25 rows (after several refuelings) just before lunch.


After a leisure lunch, I milled around out back waiting for the boss. Went into the bathroom and scrubbed off the hours of shredded weeds/dirt caked on my arms/hands/face. Changed into a clean set of clothes and the boss pulled up.  We packed up the van for market, we brought: 4 tables, tent, cash box, crate of bags/elastics/cellophane, 1 box of tomatoes, 2 trays of raspberries, 1 tray of blueberries, one milk crate packed with jam, 2 big boxes of pies (large sized and the smaller individual type), 1 tray of cherry tomatoes (half purples, half reds), 1 crate of beets, 1 big basket of string beans, 1 big basket of cucumbers, 1 big basket of pickling cukes, 1 bushel box of zuchini, bushel of summer squash, half bushel of kousa/patty pan, 1 big bushel of green peppers and 6 burlaps full of corn. All loaded up, we set out for market in the next town over.

I worked 50/50 last year, half the time in the fields and half the times at markets-- so I know all the set ups and all the sellers pretty well. I always like this market. It's set up in an olde tyme town center in a farmy old town with a chip on its shoulder (Big Boy lives here). The market is held on the town green, beneath big oaks-- there's a band stand, a big old congregational church, store fronts, the library and all that sort. All the regulars were back-- the old folks in the stall beside us were real glad to see me back.

One of 'em is a big ol' lady (a retired school teacher) who bakes real good sweets out of her house-- cookies are caked in butter, lard, molasses and salt. She's the sort of old woman who is serious, the sort who gets suspicious, silent and stares when people act too friendly. Her little brother (in his 60s) is the bull dog. He is a big fella and can't walk too well but still helps his sister set up all her backed goods and hangs around to chat up customers/anyone in earshot. He works as a security guard for a theater in the dumpy former-industrial city I live near (just a quick swim across the polluted, dead body filled lake).  The baker and her brother took me under their wing last year, which is a precarious thing (all the locals hardly tolerate 'em). The brother must have thought I was homeless/parentless/or just too skinny-- every Thursday last fall, he'd without fail bring me a large milk/sugar coffee and a big McDonald's cheeseburger. He'd turn red and get furious whenever I tried to pay him-- so I learned to shut up and eat. Last year the baker decided that farms, the sun and fields, were no place for a good young man-- so she took it as her mission to find me a 'proper' trade. Well, I refused all the security jobs, electrician/plumbing apprenticeships, but she still packed my pockets full of cookies and cake every Thursday. Good folks.

So the boss and I set up the tent, got the tables up and arranged the goods. I don't know how good or bad I am out in the fields, but I know this-- I can sell a person the food in their own stomach. I just don't like doing it. All the same, the boss was happy to have me out again making him money, he slapped me on the back and said-- go to it ace. Then he hopped in the van to go mind the farm.

I got the stall arranged to my liking then caught up with the baker and her brother. Nothing's changed, except now she has a framed picture on her table-- inside is a man's picture, with the words '(whatever-the-guy's name is) of Pawn Stars love (the baker's) cookies and a jumble of signatures. Apparently these TV stars gave a little history show at the brother's theater and the baker sent the stars boxes of her homemade cookies-- and they loved them enough to send a signed picture saying that they did. The baker was very, very proud of the picture.

Start time came and the market heads walked around ringing a big bell to signal that we could start selling-- the people came and I sold.

The boss really needs to print some business cards or something. I scribbled down the farm address and phone # for countless families all day long. Seems that many Lebanese families are settling in the area and can't find good kousa squash-- but we got it and cut it just how they like it. Unfortunately, they want it in bulk-- 60-80 squash at a go. The first family cleared me out.

Our market stall is a crowed place, but I move real fast-- I call aloud the price math to the customer so they can check my numbers (I could kill the boss for pricing things at $1.20/$.90/$1.10 a lb.). There's no calculators here so everything's left to my head. Had 15-20 people lined up to pay at one point-- busy, busy.

Things lull out from time to time, which give me a chance to chat with customers/answer their questions about tomatoes/our farming practices/the weather this spring. I take a real sick pleasure in telling people we're not an organic farm-- watching their reaction is a special kind of entertainment. In my defense, certain markets poisoned me last year-- the politics of organic farming is a petty and vicious thing. You can almost predict a person's reaction based solely on their haircut (90% accuracy), but then again markets make me a terrible person.

A new seller came by to chat during the mid-afternoon doldrums. I'll call him Stone-J (his face is rock slab, his name starts with J), think I might be seeing a lot more of this guy. I like the guy/seethe a bit in jealousy. Stone-J is about my age and just leased out 25 acres from the town land trust this year. With his girlfriend/friends he is doing it. He rented a place in town, got a small cub tractor and has 10 acres of organic veggies coming on a wet hilltop. He bought a round of beef cow this spring, setting them on the remaining 15 acres to keep it clear of brush/fatten 'em up over summer-- he'll sell them this fall for a tight profit (certainly can't afford to winter a herd). Stone-J has a big ol' beard and an easy disposition-- he did some program in environmental sciences before leaping on his lease land. We hit it off famously. Shot the breeze on all types of crop/soil/and such. He gave me his card, and I said hey friend-- if you ever need a hand over the weekend, I'm your guy. We shook on it and he showed me his veggie-stall spread. I gotta remember to shoot him an internet message-- I wanna get up close with those cows of his. Maybe my jealous son reflex was tingling-- the boss has stepped in to mentor Stone-J, helping him survey the plot/select crops suitable for his soil and organic disposition/ get into the market line-up/ join the farmer's union.
Yes, I am just plan green in jealousy.

I sold out. Sold all 6 sacks of corn, all the sting beans, all the pies, all the peppers, all the beets, all the tomatoes (and cherries), all the berries, all the jam but one (a 10oz of Peach-raspberry), all the cucumber and pickling cukes, all the zucchini and all the summer squash/kousa. Only a handful of patty pan remained. Selling a full basket/tray/box is nothing-- selling the scattered dregs of string beans is something. But not something hard. People love to haggle, so I haggle them. A mother and her baby walked by and I gave her the last handful of string beans for free. Another woman came by and I talked her into the last sad looking bunch of beets at 50% off. Gave another woman the last 4 corn for free. Hahaha, so I'm not much of a bargainer-- but every one of those customers were so happy they talked with me 15 minute and walked off with the farm's address. But what's a single bunch of beets, a few corn, a few string beans, a couple kousa or a single cucumber? So I sold out the way I always did last year-- when there's nothing left, give away what is.

The market bell rang again and the stalls shut down. The boss's daughter ran by, emptied my cash box and ran to the bank. I piled up the empty bags/boxes, folded up the tent/table and waited for the boss. He drove up and we packed everything into the van. The boss was happy to see the empty boxes, but happier to hear the profit number (I'm not giving away any business details, but I pulled well over the big 1-- which is the mark of a good day). I more than covered everyone's payroll for the day--yehaw!

The sun was down by the time we got back to the farm store and unpacked the van. Homeward bound.
A little part of me misses doing the markets, a very little part.


Aside: While pulling out of the farm the boss's daughter yelled after me, but I didn't really hear her and kept on going. The boss called me as I was going through the 400acre fields surrounding the vet school-- his daughter saw I had one big ol' flat tire. Pulled over into the field and flipped out the flat-- put on the spare and had a long cigarette in the grass. What a day.

Back to the fields tomorrow and glad to be-- can't have the boys think I've gone soft, can I?

Take it easy.

Ahaha! Tomatoes and Chard

Oh boy. Forgot to mention it yesterday... but we had a visitor--the photographer for one of our state capital's big newspapers. Sure enough, as I was washing and bunching some beets, he snuck over and clipped a few hundred shots of me. So when I swung by the gas station to get coffee this morning, look who I found laughing back at me on the front page:

If the boys catch wind of this my name is mud.


Full sun all day through to closing, started getting a little cloudy around then. Temperature stuck in the mid 80Fs.

Long slow day today. I sharpened up the knives this morning and we got the boys together: Stretch, Newport and me. Piled up 8 crates and headed to the lower fields to cut swiss chard. Things went smoothly enough at the bed's head, but once we got further down things got bad.

Take a look at the chard photos from this weekend-- just a few days ago. It was enormous and healthy. When we got mid field we found nearly all the leaves (on every plant) eaten back to the stems, covered (caked, every square inch) in little shit pellets and big black/gray flying ant like beetles. In just three days they'd turned the chard into a near wasteland. I was the first one down there-- furious, I went from plant to plant crushing or slicing every beetle I could find (sometimes 10 on a single leaf). What would have been an easy half hour of rapid picking became a dirge. The foreman came over and we worked the entire field's length-- killing every beetle we found, pulling off every bare stem/emaciated leaf. On Saturday (when Darlin took pictures of the chard), I bet we could have filled 25 crates easy-- we just barely filled 8 lean crates. Finished going over the damage just before lunch.


After lunch, still in low spirits, we headed out for some serious tomato picking. The boss came down and joined us as we worked the rows. Tomato picking isn't as exciting as I'd always hoped. Rot/fungus has taken a hard toll on the first round of fruit (the boss plans on spraying a bit of fungicide to curb the dilemma)-- for every good tomato we picked, we pulled 3-4 rotted mold covered ooze sacks. There's nothing like stretching your hand beneath the plant and coming back with a handful of sludge. The field (and soon us too) smelt like ketchup mixed with gasoline with a dash of day-old diaper tossed in. The tomato plant's stem and leaves have a fine hair/film/power covering them over-- our hands, hair, pants and arms turned black/green. The trellised tomatoes were in much better shape and easier to pick-- less rot and less work negotiating around the plant. That said, this was the first big tomato harvest. We got:

Fair number of Rose, tons of fine looking Cherokees (they held up surprisingly well), fair number of striped romans, one ripe striped german, 3 buckets of red cherries, 1 bucket of yellow cherries and 1 bucket of dark purple cherries. We packed the tractor's front loader with the full 20 something tomato buckets, then headed up to the store.

Sorting and wiping time. We rolled over 2 carts and got everything squared away into: 52 full cardboard boxes of big tomatoes, 5 trays of cherry tomato pints. Not bad, not too damn bad at all.

8 of the boxes were ripe and ready to go, so we moved those into the store-- leaving the rest to ripen beneath the awning. Closing was a half hour off, but there wasn't enough time to start any of the next picking projects-- a big potato pull is next on the list. So the boss sent us home early, with a day's full pay.

Time to scrub off my tomato coat and get set for tomorrow-- gonna be a long day, market starts a little after noon and ends a bit after sun down. Gotta remember to bring a change of fancy 'market clothes.'

Take it easy.