The scrupulous joy of lists...

...L I S T S...

Today I am struck by the continuity of it all...you know, life in general becomes life in particular. There's an unmistakeable pattern that seems more evident at this time of the year than any other. It's everywhere I look...that "saucy minx" Mother Nature is getting a face lift again and I'm completely jealous. 

To keep in check, I'm a list maker. I like to know what's next to tackle or sometimes just to remind myself of where I've been; an itinerary of progress. If you're a list maker, then you are jumping for joy in complete and utter anal comprehension.  If not, then you'll just think it's an enormous waste of time... and you'll never get it. Don't even try. 
(No worries, we list makers can accept that about you.)

"Why tally an inventory of your life?", you may ask.

Because.  
I need to.
That's why.
It keeps me sane.
Sanity on a farm is hard to come by...

And don't forget, every New Year's resolution starts in the form of a list, first in your mind, then if you're really serious, you write it down somewhere to remind yourself that you made it (then you forget where you put the thing you vowed so earnestly to keep alive). 
The big man himself is doing it, too...and checking his...twice!

During this Holiday season, why not make a list of all the things you are grateful to have or be a part of.  Think about where you are, and where you want to take your life in 2014.  Make a difference in yourself and your little big world.
Ash Ambrige, from The Middle Finger Project, says, "Don't be nonchalant about the quality of your life."

That little statement has a profound affect on my soul and is going at the top of my very first list for 2014...

Joyeux Noël mes amis...paix à vous en 2014.

Suzanne @ Le Farm

The demolition has commenced...a.k.a. "A bedtime story on Le Farm"...

Once upon a time, 144 years ago, a very skilled stone mason built a set of eight steps leading to the back door of a completely and utterly lovely southern home.  And, they served the family well for generations. Well worn by family, friends, farm workers
and a stray dog or two, these steps were built to last.

Until, one beautifully sunny southern day, the eight skillfully built cement steps became,

Eight slightly uneven, skillfully built cement steps...which became,

Eight slightly uneven, cracked, skillfully built cement steps...which became,

Eight slightly uneven, cracked, fire ant infested, skillfully built cement steps...which became,

Eight slightly uneven, cracked, fire ant infested, slippery-when-wet, skillfully built 

cement steps...which became,

Eight slightly uneven, cracked, fire ant infested, slippery-when-wet, unsafe high heel 

teetering, skillfully built cement steps...which became,

A broken back, both legs and arms broken, a cracked hip or two, humongous hazard 

just waiting to happen...to me.

(Ok...maybe not both arms and legs, but believe me, I've caught myself from a classic cartoon banana peel, both legs-in-the-air fall, saving a bottle of wine from crashing to smithereens on these very steps!)

I have also missed the door knob and saved myself from a flat out back dive,

And that was not pretty in the least...SO,
 as much as I hate having to start this project,
the demolition has commenced.

The moral of this story...

Nothing lasts forever.

Goodnight.
Sweet dreams...

Update on "Just say NO to wheat"...

It has been about 2 months...57 days to be exact, since a morsel, crumb or mouth-watering smell of wheat in all its delicious forms has entered my body.

Let's spell it out:

1. Inconvenience

Wheat related products are quick, easy and available for consumption 

everywhere you go.  I could easily pack a sandwich or get one on the go, 

grab a bad of pretzels or have a zillion types of crackers with my cheese in a little minute.

Surprise! That has all changed.  

Now I pack yogurt, 3 apples, cut cucumbers, individually wrapped cheese wedges, 

peeled carrots and a bag of some kind of nuts.  

Preparation and careful thought about my choices takes longer.

I've even figured out how to cook a "to-go" cup of oatmeal and blueberries for the road.

Peanut butter now goes on an apple slice or celery stick.  

Gone are the days of a really good PB & J.

...sigh

2.  More cooking and utensils to wash

I am now forced to cook...because many prepackaged items have wheat 

or wheat-like gluten. 

(And I don't believe in microwaves!)

It also seems that I'm washing more spoons than I have since I was a toddler on baby food. 

It's much easier to grab a spoonful of peanut butter or almond butter, since there is 

nothing handy to put it on. 

(Oh, and gelato or frozen yogurt by the spoonful...

 to help make me feel a little decadent and human.)

3. Eating less

Granted, I am eating less calories and ultimately less food, because I'm not nearly as hungry.

Here's the mantra...

The more gluten carbs in, the more gluten carbs in, the more gluten carbs in...

(A vicious circle that takes drastic measures to break, like jucing greens every morning.)

4.  Unthinkable energy levels

I'm sure my metabolism has changed.  I can feel it. 

The backpack of bricks has been removed from my body and so has 10#, so far.

I sleep better and wake refreshed.  I can do more hard work with less exertion.

I feel healthier without that bloated feeling and look thinner. 

Nothing bad about that!

For me, this had been a good decision.

There are benefits for my health.

and...

No judgment if it's not for you.

You can eat your crackers in peace.

Namaste.

A thistly, grisly, bristly ordeal...

T H O R N S...

Who needs them?
What is their purpose on earth?
Why, oh why do blackberries need them?
And why did I buy a farm, that had rows, that had bushes, that had blackberries, that had thorns? (Does this make any sense?)

Let's ask for a visual, shall we?

Before....imagine nine 40' rows of these thistly, gristly, bristly berries. As far as the eye can see, miles and miles of thorns if they were laid end-to-end. Horrific, really.

After....7 rows pulled up, yanked out and cut to the quick, leaving only the sweet, sleek wood of adjacent blueberry bushes.

All that is left are these 2 rows to be cut, mulched and salvaged as 1 short row of THORNLESS blackberries for years of delicious (and painless) propagation.

(I will spare you the torn flesh images that happened somewhere between before and after. Horrific, really.)

Selling yourself gets people buying...wait, that's not what I meant...better read on...

Selling isn't for everyone.

I'm sure you told yourself this last time you were forced to buy a car from a 
sleazy guy in plaid, 

"Thank God, I don't have to do that for a living!"

So, I say, being a sales gal is tough.

(Selling takes kahunas...)

Even for a farmer.

Really? "What's so hard about putting up a white tent and selling produce?", you ask.  

Let me tell ya...

It's having the art of C U S T O M E R   S E R V I C E...

selling yourself first and your produce second.

Ya gotta put yourself out there.

Whaaat? No way. No one cares about that when all they're buying is a bunch of carrots.

Au contraire...

They do care.

YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT GROW SELL.

Case in point...
Yesterday I went to an Arts and Crafts Festival.  There were vendors from all over the country selling jewelry, art, candles, forged iron, you name it. 
 It was the perfect venue to test my theory.  
Imagine paying big bucks to set up in a well attended 3-day event, only to sit back, letting people casually walk by without ever making eye contact, let alone any effort to interact with them.

Unbelievably, I witnessed this!  
(In fact, it was more often, than not.)
How in the world did these people make any money or meet their expenses to attend?  
They looked like they couldn't be bothered.

Well, neither could I.  
If they weren't excited about what they had, why would I be?
The only people that sold me anything were the ones engaging me in conversation about what they do, how they made what they made, what they brought as a special for the show, who asked ME questions, who took the time to talk...
 and sell themselves, first.

It doesn't take rocket science to be nice.
There may be volumes written about sales tactics and catchy 3-lettered abbreviations to describe them 
but there is a bottom line to all of it:
People buy from people.

This is a saying my esteemed colleague uses every day in his sales career.
And it works.

The sweet, no sweat Sweet Potato...

If I've learned anything, I've learned not to be surprised that every task on the farm involves sweat, sometimes blood,

 and insuppressible tears.

(And nobody's singing, "You've made me so very happy".)

No one in her (or his) right mind can deny that the word "farm' is more of an action verb than a noun.

My point being?

NOTHING comes that easy 'round here.

 And it's not the first time I've said that, just in case you're thinking,  "Good God...there she goes again..."

The truth is what it is. What can I say?

Nothing comes easy.

Wel-l-l-l-l, Almost.

I have finally discovered the key to happiness on a farm:

PLANT SWEET POTATOES!

Enter Exhibit A

I can proclaim that this beautiful bundle of goodness came about almost effortlessly.

The amazing part of it all, is that this came from one little potato eye that grew 

a slip on a sweet potato that I kept around to see if I could grow some... as an experiment.

One. little. slip.

I KNOW!!!

Incredible, no?

INCREDIBLE!

YES...!

I planted it and did nothing for 120 days, except give it a drink every now and then.

(Now I know how a fisherman feels pulling up that prize fish...with a,  

"Look what I did" gratifying smirk on his face when the fish was the one doing all the work!)

No lie, it was an exhilarating surprise hiding under that mound of dirt!

Not only did I squeal with joy at the amount, but check this out;

Sweet potatoes are full of fiber, Vitamin A and a slew of other nutrients and minerals, not to mention pretty low in calories.

As they cure, the sugar content increases...how can you go wrong here?

"Hi De Ho, Hi De Hi, Gonna get me a piece of the sky!"

When FARM is a 4-letter word...

I attended a lovely Gala last night to commemorate 50 successful and innovative years
of business for the company that employs me.
Other than the beautifully lighted room full of the ambiance of candles and the decadently prepared food and intoxicating wine, I think my favorite part of the evening was connecting with dear friends and colleagues of mine from the past 10 years.  

It was truly magical to see them all again.  Yes, so very magically magical.

And magically, they all had the same question for me,
"So! How's the farm going!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(Notice, It wasn't really a question, but rather asked as more of an exclamation that you reserve for inquiring about some of the more fabulous things on earth.)

I tried to deliver the message to their shinning faces that they wanted to hear, with my best customer service skills I had, and only hoped I didn't reveal my inner most secret thought, that at times,

"f  a  r  m" ,
is a 4-letter word!

I didn't have the heart to tell them;

,,,that "Take That F@#ker!" are the first words out of my mouth more than I would ever admit.

...that snakes don't always stay outside but will scare you into an incurable state of post traumatic stress where you'll never go to the bathroom again in the middle of the night without a flashlight and a prayer.

...that pruning blackberries leaves your arms looking like the victim of a violent slasher movie, cut into hundreds of bloody little pieces.

...that picking gallons of blueberries a day gives the same painful carpal thumb effect that too much texting does to teenagers.

...that weeds won't pull themselves when they spread and smother the life out of the 60' of vegetables you planted, composted, mulched and sprinkled holy fish water over.

...that your eyeballs burn like h*ll when the farmer across the road plows his field, blowing a fine fog of dust all over everything, causing your washcloth to resemble the face of Jesus...in dirt.

...that "organic"means working your @ss off only to have your beautifully vine ripened tomatoes eaten by some alien-like, leaf-footed devil beetle bug from "Men in Black".

And,

...that wood rots, bees sting and you can't fool that b*tch, Mother Nature.

No...

I didn't have the heart to tell them,
...all of them with their happy faces full of hope and everything good.

So, I told them the same thing I keep having to tell myself, from time to time,

...that, "It's fabulous and I couldn't be happier!"

When all you have is a measley dime...

Ever wonder about the saying "Decorating on a dime"?

Who came up with that?
We all know what it means and it can't be taken literally.
(10 cents isn't much to work with.)

Nevertheless, it is nice to know that many people are doing it and that high priced
furnishings are not necessarily the way to go, unless money is no object.

I remember my mom recounting a very hard time when all she had was a quarter
to feed five kids.
I think it bought a loaf of bread back then.
Hard to imagine.

 Thrifty.     Repurposed.     Reused.    

No wonder these words have been part of my whole life.  

And still are.

The Shabby Chic style embraces the art of decorating on a budget.
True, you can travel the French countryside and buy authentic French antiques,
but your dime isn't going to get you very far.
Or, you can subscribe to French blogs, take in all the eye candy in their beautiful
snapshots of gorgeously arranged antiques and imitate the look yourself.

Today, I did just that!

Through "Decor Steals" I bought an authentic metal olive basket.  I have been admiring them in the blogs I connect with and longed dearly for one.  Mine was a "steal" for only $51.00
I considered it a necessary reward for all the hard work I put in this year at the farmer's markets.

Check it out for yourself...
http://www.decorsteals.com

I don't know what I'll do with it quite yet.
I'm sure it will fit with my French theme.
I may even plant an olive tree and put it to its intended use.

That ol' metal basket made my day!

No cookies, or crackers or cake, oh my...

Dreaded Day 4

WHEAT

...pasta,

...cakes,

...bread,

...crackers.

Screaming about now.

I could wipe out a bakery!

Yes, it has come to this.

Trying to free my body of its dependence on wheat.

Alas, a bad habit and overindulgence is a hard cycle to break.  I am so irritated I could slap myself.

I already miss my all-time-go-to comfort food...PASTA!
...need it to comfort me during the withdrawl from no wheat.

(But on the bright side, I already have a lot more energy and not falling asleep on the road in the afternoons.)

Good decision?

Oui.

Thank God quinoa (keen-wa)is delicious, even though it is a seed from antiquity, wherever that is.  

It reminds me of pasta, sort of? hell no.

(There is a loaf of homemade sweet black bread in the freezer, just in case.)

Don't worry, I'm not completely crazy.  

I might quit bread but will never, ever give up wine.

Like Ever.

What Inspires You? Do tell!

Inspiration is so important in our lives.
Recently, I have revisited the heroic stories from September 11th and became so inspired.
Simply put,

Love never fails.

Although, years later, when I find it hard to grasp the reality of that enormous tragedy, in all the stories and the recounting of loss, there is still hope.

What is it in this beautiful place on earth that inspires you?

What grabs your heart and moves you to action?

Is it something seen?

A movie or a picture?

A song or a speech that is the spark for a flame?

or

Do you emulate what you love in others lives for yourself?

Imaginativeness is easier for some than others, but even the Masters needed a muse to inspire at times.

I am so curious...
and want to hear from you.

Do tell...what is it that spurs your imagination and creativity and never fails to inspire?
I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments.
Feel free to include all the details on what you're working on now or would love to try.

It may just inspire me...and a few others!

Suzanne @ Le Farm

How far can you see?

If you've never checked out Cedar Hill Ranch blog, you should.  Anita @Cedar Hill Ranch recently mentions something very true that rang like a bell to me.  She said,
"If you don't have a vision, how will you ever know when you've arrived?"

That's why today I repeat, mostly to myself, 

"You gotta have a vision".

And someone much more famous than both of us said,

"The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision."
...Helen Keller.

I always have had vision, seeing the big picture and "having vision" is not my problem.  You know, the ability to see beyond the mess to the possibilities.
What I have been struggling with lately is having a clear vision.

My view has become a little cloudy and I have been afraid to say this out loud,

"Is this really the place for me?"
and
"What good am I doing here all by myself?"
and,
 as ridiculous as it sounds,
"How will I do all this when I'm 80?"

I had one clear vision when I first moved here to Le Farm.
It was fresh and new and I was unstoppable.
That vision has even evolved off and on a bit into a bigger dream until some larger obstacles recently started to appear.

(Not so unstoppable, it seems.)

...and then the doubt...the dreaded doubt,  creeps in and starts to fester.
Doubt is hard to deal with when it is mainly involving your own abilities or rather, your own limitations. ("I AM WOMAN" ain't cutting it these days no matter how loudly I scream it!)

I have lived here alone over one year now.  I know what it takes to run this place.  It is no longer fresh and new. Have I gotten bored or just plain tired?
I remind myself of my blog entry, "How owing a farm is like having a newborn"...
This poor ol' momma is pooped and it doesn't look like I'll be able to take a nap any time soon.

Maybe it is just fear now that I realize the real reality of it all.  It's really real.

There is no humdrum here.
It is all fast forward and I need to stay on top of everything or it runs away without me.

So, what's the problem?

The main issue is time.  It takes time to do all that a farm requires.  Right now, I have a demanding job that keeps me traveling almost every day.  This job is wonderful and I'd like to keep it for the next 5 years if they keep paying me to do it.

I am finding that it's hard to do both. Something has to give and I have not been able to keep up as well as I thought I could here on the farm.

So, what is the answer?

My friends say that giving up the farm is nothing to be ashamed of, if you cannot enjoy it.
(I do still enjoy it.  My heart says I'd be sorry if I did that.)

Decisions must be made to make my life here on Le Farm less "hard".
I decided to find a handyman that can come in with his tool belt and fix all the things I can't do.
And I may need to find someone to come and bush hog the field down, help me build the hoop house, prune the blackberry patch, etc.

Just coming up with solutions seems to take the load off a little.
I can breathe in the air of resolution.

I am going to take a big ol' breath.
Breathing in.....Breathing out.
"Are we there yet?"

C.H.A.N.G.E.

"C H A N G E....to transform, to cause to be different, to give a completely different form or appearance to."

I.  Love.  It.

I do!

...and I always will.

I change my home, I change my gardens, I change my music and I change my mind.

I don't have a problem moving on.

I get it if you can't relate.  (Believe me when I say that...I gave birth to a son that hates it.

It has much to do with his astrological sign, I think.  He fits the characteristics of a Taurus to a tee.)

I, on the other hand, am an Aquarius.

I say, "Bring it on!

No judgment, just jump in with me with all ya got!"

Seriously, I had a hard time dealing with my children's temperaments until I read their astrological signs.  Now, I understand who they are a little bit better.  You may not "believe" in that stuff...

that's ok because that really isn't my focus here anyway!

This is all about change and looking at things a bit differently, not being afraid to try something bold, daring and maybe a little crazy...but in a good way.

I have some excellent examples of "befores and afters" to show you.  Sort of an extreme mini-makeover post for those that love to look at pictures.  I have said it before...I am a visual learner.  

I get inspired by seeing. 

These things make me happy!

...so, here you go!

Fireplace Makeover...before was nice, but after was stunning!

Chair Makeover...before was blah but after was ooh-la-la!

Table and Chairs Makeover...before was brown, brown, brown, brown, brown (I can't even find the boring brown picture), after was so very fresh and country french!

And lastly, a heart warming before and after of my little darlings...who are not so little any more.

Nothing kept them inside...even the rain.  This picture makes me laugh...;?)

Still fun and Fabulous!

Go make some change happen in your world...

Supersized peppers and the chemically induced mindset...

"These banana peppers seem so small compared to the huge ones I usually buy."

Ever hear those words at the farmer's market?

I did...yesterday.

A simple statement that brings up a nasty topic...

SUPERSIZED vegetables are NOT bigger and better!

People have forgotten what food used to look like before "miracle growth solutions" artificially pumped and plumped up our fruit and vegetables.  

For instance...remember the small sweet strawberries from your youth?  Those they were naturally grown in dirt with some manure, the rain and sunshine.  Strawberries are now tasteless, freakishly mega-sized and chemically induced.  

Hello...have we forgotten? Peppers are not naturally grown to the size of footballs.  There are consequences to tampering with Mother Nature.  Unfortunately, even farmers get sucked into this unnatural freak show, somehow believing that they need to grow vegetables that are the size of Shrek.  I'll never understand this, because as a farmer, I only want to grow food that is good for you... and not cause a mutated strain of cells in your kids.

I'm totally serious here, folks.

The real damage this is doing is fooling the public to think that these are better to buy.

(Just like my market goer's opinion. And she told me she was trying to get serious about buying healthy food for her kids.)  The complete opposite is true.  You are opening the door for major health disasters if you believe this, too.  

(Whoever did the marketing on this one is a genius.)

Ill leave you with two thoughts,

1.  Karma is a "b*tch", 

and

2. You can't fool Mother Nature.

Free to a good home...

I love to give things away...for free! If I have no where to put it, or I never use it, or it is more trouble than its worth, I'll give it away.  My favorite place to do it is to wheel the item(s) out to the curb with a big "FREE" sign on them.  It is amazing how quickly they get gone.  It's a good thing for all involved.

When I moved to SC, I had a few modern furniture items that were nice but did not fit here.  Rather than move them,  out to the curb they went.  Everything was gone in a day. Sure, I could have sold them... but why not make someone's day?  Serendipity! Have you ever done it?  It feels great.  No strings, no expectations, and mostly no hassle.   

Since I've moved here last year, I've given away an uncomfortable desk chair and tonight, a push lawnmower, that still works but could use some TLC.  It is really tough to start, and I could see myself pulling some muscle that would put me down for a good long while.  I can't afford injury so out it went.  I probably used it just a few times in the past year.  Time for a gas powered weed eater!

I still have a broom and a decorative glass candle holder that someone left out near the garbage bin at my apartment years ago. They were too nice to throw out and so they were left for the taking. 

I figured it's time to "pay it forward".  

So, I did...

...and I still am.

Try it.

You'll love it.

Watch out...I have a power tool and I'm not afraid to use it...!

Question... What do you get when you combine four posts, four 2x6's, a drill, and someone that knows just enough to be dangerous?

Answer... An arbor for climbing roses!

Don't you just love creative projects that don't take much time?  

It seems everything I have to do around here takes me so much time to accomplish that, now and then, something I can do start to finish in a few hours is pure bliss.

Well, I gotta say, digging holes in >90 degrees F (in the sun) with 85% humidity was less than fun, but in short order I was able to put together an 8' arbor so someday sweet smelling pale pink roses can grace it.

The bistro set was my dad's and I painted it blue.

I think I will love sitting here surrounded by the sweet smell of roses on the breeze.  

Oh...just in case,

Watch out...I have a paint brush and I'm not afraid to use it!

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou to put the hoop house?"

Hoop house...high tunnel...cold frame..."What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet".  

Shakespeare's Romeo said it well.

I am getting ready for adding one of these beauties to my farm through my local NRCS; Natural Resource Conservation Services of SC.  Every farmer can apply for a "free"one during their project timeline.  "Free" meaning, you buy it up front, then they reimburse you if you follow the practice guidelines for 3 years, and if they have the funds.  Still worth it, if you ask me.  It is a great way to lengthen your growing season in a controlled environment.  This is a national NRCS initiative.  I learned about it from someone's blog!  Where I live I may be able to put it to use all year round considering I had many plants winter over and survive.  The big question is, where to put it?

I have learned a thing or two this summer because it has been wet...no, let me rephrase...we have had torrential downpours about every few days, sometimes for days at a time.  The problem with living nearly at sea level is that the rainwater has no where to go.  I am told that my area of SC used to be ocean.  So, if I dig about 12-20" under the loamy sandy soil I find hard clay or basically really hard, packed sand.  Ocean is still here.

I always thought I could use my back 2 acres for farmland but have learned that it has the potential to stay very wet and drowned under about 6"of water, killing everything I plant there. My decision for hoop house placement has changed to a place much closer to the barn. 

Good decision, Juliet.  Good decision.

French blogs speak my language...

I love the visual inspiration of French blogs.  

They give me my daily "kick" along with my morning latte.  Some of my favorites are Chez Loulou, My French Country Home and French Basketeer.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then these creative women are speaking the language that would inspire anybody.  Their perspective through their lens takes in the French countryside, Paris shops, freshly prepared food and stunning architecture.  They whisk me away to a mini vacation in Paris, Normandy or the south of France...in my mind's eye, of course.  I want to be there with them drinking wine in a French cafe or buying smelly cheese from the open air markets.  I am starting to feel like I know them as close friends.  That is the beauty of it all.
So, in like manner, I decided to cut short my words today and post some pictures of Le Farm

 to enjoy, be inspired, get whisked away to the south of carolina!
Enjoy!

Built in c. 1869...turquoise was my choice!

Morning light streaming across huge live oaks...

These are just some of my beautiful Rabbiteye variety of blueberries.

Adjoining cotton fields in the sunrise.

Delicious, huge and very sweet muscadine grapes. Some are the size of a plum!

Zinnias growing in the back field.

A great porch when it is pouring down rain.

I just love the louvered doors.

The center dressing room.  What a cool old transomed doorway.  Nothing is level and everything sort of rolls east!

Dining country french style.  (Yes, I painted the fireplace and my table...I am dangerous with a paintbrush in my hand!)

Huge windows provide a view of beautiful camellias just outside.

Very long and wide center hall in the "Little River style" architecture where all the rooms come off the center hallway.  I would have loved this as a kid...I'll race ya!

Guest room...blueberry blue! Come and stay a while.

Master bedroom. Almost all the rooms have fireplaces but none are operational.

In the foreground is a table made from old door I found in the barn.

Can you tell I love pale blues? So calming and peaceful.

The other end of the center hall.  It's a room in itself with original wide plank flooring.

My "French" foyer.

Living room in pale blue and chocolate brown with my Craigslist find of an ivory colored leather sofa.  I painted and distressed my old brown coffee tables and end tables ivory, too.

A full view of the master bedroom.  I had to custom make all my drapes over 100 inches long.

French roosters are a must in my country french kitchen.

As close to Paris as I can get...

Sir Isaac Newton and my pear tree...

"I do not know what I may appear to the world; but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself now and then in finding a smoother pebble or prettier shell than ordinary, while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me."   --Isaac Newton

I was on my riding mower and a low hanging pear clunked me in the head.  Up to that point the only thing on my mind was to get the big job finished before I was shut out by rain or darkness...had to stick to the schedule, or else.  The pear tree diverted my focus and reminded me of fall, my favorite time of the year, which comes on very slowly, leaf by falling leaf.  I looked down and saw the ground was littered with gorgeous chocolate brown pear leaves.  I love that beautiful effect.  Various shades of dark chocolate against the vibrant green lawn.  It is just as beautiful to me as New England's stunning display.

Sometimes the smallest things inspire me and renew hope that things are constantly changing, moving on in their own way. My thoughts were stuck in a cycle of thinking that I am extremely overwhelmed handling a farm by myself. (And this could be applied to anyone that feels overwhelmed by their situation.)

Truth be told, I actually am doing quite well, making much progress, not flailing or even just maintaining.  I was completely humbled when I saw a young woman motoring down the sidewalk in her wheelchair, recently.  How dare I even think that my life was anything short of wonderful, for even a nanosecond.  I shake my head at my impatience and blindness sometimes.

Having a farm is truly a work in progress, being mainly in me.  

Still learning...every...single...day.

Celebrate the independence of food choice...

Happy 4th!

Who doesn't love fireworks and hot dogs, flags and hamburgers, or the freedom to make healthy choices?

I remember the days when there were locally grown vegetables in the grocery store and depending on the season, you could only buy what was growing.  If it came from California, it was considered too 

expensive and extravagant to buy.  Who needs perfect pears in the middle of winter?  Ours were always canned from our own pear trees, if we had any when the snowflakes blew in.
{Except for pomegranates...we had to have those at Christmas!}

Today, things are different.  You can get any fruit or vegetable you want in any season of the year grown from around the world.  Along with that, you might find yourself the recipient of an unhealthy dose of Ecoli or Hepatitis A, from unsanitary growing conditions or lacking food safety practices.  Look at the strawberry containers piled high in the grocery store.  They are packed with dosed up mega strawberries,  completely tasteless, pesticide ridden and full of chemicals.  They don't even spoil if left out!  

Now is the time for independence...the time to once again buy real locally grown produce, meat, eggs.

The trend to "know your farmer" is for a good reason.  You need to know who is touching your food, what they are using in their farm practices, like pesticides and herbicides or if they are all natural and organic.   And, don't assume that everything you see at the farmer's market is grown locally or free of pesticides.  Most are not.  Many "farmers" will take their little truck to the state farmer's market, and fill it up with produce trucked in from somewhere else, grown by who knows whom.  Then they take it to the local farmer's market and resale.  It is time to start asking the questions, "Did you grow this? Do you use pesticides or herbicides?  Is your produce GMO free?"  

Don't settle...claim your independence and insist on locally grown organics for your family.

Let freedom ring.