I park my truck in front of the same gate every time I go to the barn to feed and water the animals.
If you just glance at it, you might not notice anything unusual. It looks square and upright and serviceable as it stands there between its posts; just an ordinary gate guarding the entrance to a fallowed field full of compost piles.
But if you look carefully, or should you go to open the gate, you will realize it is held together with string. Those strong metal pipes are standing only because they are tied with twine from some hay bales.
Through decades of service -- swinging wide for tractors, shutting tight to hold back cattle, I've watched this once shiny and sturdy gate grow tired. Last year its welds finally gave way and it spent the season half-hanging, half-heaped on the ground while tall grass wove up through its bars. I picked it up and tied it back together sometime in November... because I felt bad for it.
I relate to this gate.
When I started farming, I felt a lot like a new gate – strong and ready to serve. Nearly two decades later, I’m still here, doing a job I love. But I’ve also grown tired and come apart in a few places. In some ways, I am figuratively holding myself together with twine and hoping no one will look closely enough to notice.
Having admitted that, I’ll also admit I'm not exactly sure where I’m going with this or why I feel the need to write to you about it. I’m a farmer so I guess I'm supposed to spend my days tending to land and animals to feed people. Talking about things like this feels a little outside my lane.
But maybe it doesn't have to be that simple. Good farming means noticing connected systems and caring for all the parts in order to better the whole. If I think about people (including myself) as part of the whole, whatever is going on inside our human hearts and minds deserves consideration.
So here's something I’ve noticed lately - nearly everyone I talk to feels a little broken. We all seem to have at least one crack in some part of our internal structure and we are walking around tied-together or patched-up inside while thinking we need to keep it a secret.
But what if we don't? What if it’s okay to let the breaks and repairs show? After all, there is beauty in a mended gate... or a mended life. It's proof we don’t give up.
Hiding in Plain Sight
I know summer is in full swing when it sounds like a family of happy R2-D2 robots have moved in.
Birds. It's actually birds making all that robotic ruckus and the name of the bird is as joyful as the song they sing. The Peterson Field Guide describes their voice as "ecstatic and bubbling: starts with low, reedy notes and rollicks upward". I'm talking about bobolinks and they abound on the farm.
Each summer, the males hover about the hay fields, flashing their black and white tuxedos trimmed in yellow. The females look like large sparrows - all the better to hide since bobolinks nest on the ground.
They secret their nests down amongst the tall grasses and spend the long summer days eating insects, caterpillars and seeds of all sorts while raising up their young. They are GOOD at hiding those nests, too. Despite having spent most of my life working in fields with bobolinks, I had never seen a nest until this year.
A few weeks ago, while moving the sheep to a fresh paddock, a female bobolink flushed from nearly beneath my feet. I froze and scanned the ground carefully because it meant her nest was close and I didn't want to step on it.
It probably took a full minute but I finally spotted a little cup of woven grasses within the grass. Three speckled eggs tucked neatly inside. I took a quick picture, (hoping birds can forgive such invasions of privacy) and then used a thin, fiberglass fence post to mark the area so I could avoid it going forward.
Fields that are plowed, mowed low in spring, heavily stocked with grazing animals, or developed for yards and housing cannot support bobolinks and they sometimes struggle to find suitable habitat. Our farm seems to work well for their needs and I want to continue to do my part to protect them.
As I write this, the young bobolinks will have fledged from their nests. They are now flitting about the fields, learning from their parents. Come fall, they will migrate south to spend their winter in far-off places like Bolivia and Brazil. I will then have to wait many months to hear happy robots again.
You know, when I zoom in to look beyond the obvious life on this farm -- the sheep, cattle and humans, I always see hundreds of other lives and systems, ticking along at their own pace, each with their own and equal importance.
I'm my own border collie
'I love cows, I love cows, I LOVE COWS...'
There are days I need to repeat that mantra to myself, quietly and under my breath. Cows can't read human minds and, as such, they aren't always...cooperative. I'm okay with farm life making me work like a dog but when it comes to cows, the dog part of that saying can be strangely literal.
Here's what I mean: On a recent evening, while on my way to take care of the sheep, Adam leapt over a pasture fence waving toward me like he was trying to direct an airplane. I know this signal well; airplane waving means HELP.
I changed direction and joined him. He had been trying to convince the cows that they could move to the fresh grass they wanted, if only they would use the open gate. Seems simple enough. The problem was, there was only ONE available gate and it was at the top of the hill and in the corner of the pasture - slightly out of sight. Not necessarily a simple problem-solving assignment for a herd of cows.
And so they had been giving Adam a collective 'NOPE', refusing to follow him to the gate and instead staring at their fresh pasture through a small gap in the hedgerow at the bottom of the hill. That gap provides a view but not access as there is no opening there. That view was the problem. "It's right THERE, we can seeeeeee it," their pointed gazes seemed to express.
(Granted, the cows were right - that gap is a great place for gate. There should be one there and there will be in the future. But re-configuring old fence is not a simple job and for now, the 70-year old barb wire remains. Hey, we're building this ship while we sail it, cows.)
So, we needed a new plan. Adam would continue to call and entice the herd up the hill with an offering of tasty kelp meal. With herd animals it only takes one or two moving in the right direction to eventually get the entire group going that way. If we could convince a few to cooperate, the rest would follow and there's always at least one who will do just about anything for snacks from the sea.
My task was to keep everyone on their feet and gently pressure the herd from the back - much like you might see in a western movie (minus the horse). When we move cows together, Adam is their leader and I am follower, the human border collie bringing up the rear. Usually my zig-zagging presence and some consistent "yip, yip, YIP, go on girls!" is enough to move them steadily along.
Usually.
As with Adam's earlier attempts, the girls continued to give us the brush-off. "You know you could just cut all those wires and let us through right there" their placid stares suggested. A few matrons chewed their cud and shifted their weight to one hind foot - a resting pose. Their message was clear, "We are not going UP that hill, just to go back down, and you are not convincing - we'll wait while ya go get yer fencing tools, okay?"
Adam and I re-convened in the middle of the field to discuss further strategy - he would go get their big red mineral feeder, the one that means extra special treats. My new job was to be kinda loud and weird so that the cows would decide I was worth moving away from.
I once again returned to my position at the bottom of the hill, pleased to see Adam's idea was beginning to work. A few hungry heifers were trudging toward the corner. Still, back at my end of the herd, most of the cows continued to stand still and longingly stare over the fence. Time to get weird, whatever that meant...
Maybe strange noises would help? I approached the cows, this time wheeling my arms and doing more of a yodel-yell Tarzan song than my usual yipping. This got their attention but they only watched me, apparently bemused.
Okay, next...If I had to play a collie, maybe I could literally sound like one? I tried out some growls, a little embarrassed for myself. The cows glance at me, confused but still bored. 'OK, fine', I thought to myself, 'What if I try barking like a dog?', "Rrraaaw, rrrrwwaarff, go to the gate, grrrruuuFFF!"
No, nope, NOTHING. The cows were not impressed.
My brain ticked through its files of available choices before abruptly and randomly summoning... Beyonce. Probably because I'd heard her on the radio earlier that day and she totally seems like someone who could take charge in any situation. Inspired, I started to off-key shout and sing 'All the bovine ladies, (all the bovine ladies...) get yer butts up the hill, why's this a big deal, we're starting to run out of daylight....'
The cows stared on. I Beyonce'd in vain.
Okay, time to add bodily antics? I thought a moment, still sorta yodeling-yelling and waving my arms at yawning cows. Finally, I resigned to being completely ridiculous and started an erratic dance in the grass; a herky-jerky, arm flapping, leg kicking, seizure of a dance that looked a lot like one of those inflatable wind-sock people that flail up and down next to car dealerships.
And... it was weird enough. The cows widened their eyes and started to slowly turn, finally deciding it was better to follow Adam up the hill and toward treats than stay downfield with their secondary and much stranger farmer, who appeared to be having an epic fit on pasture.
I followed them as they moved toward the gate, continuing to flop-dance and shout-sing with what air I had left in my lungs. About half way up, the herd gained focus and speed at last. A group of cows is kind of like a roller coaster, once half has crested a summit, momentum usually takes over.
For the last bit of uphill, I was able to stop dancing and singing and merely stumble along behind, waving my arms weakly and wheezing. Once through the gate, all was forgotten as the herd turned its attention to the fresh grass. We'd done it!
I leaned on that troublesome gate for minute, to catch my breath and admire the happily-grazing animals. Finally, I turned to walk downhill once more, to fetch the cows' water tank and maybe scan the previous pasture for any remaining shreds of my dignity.
Perfectly Imperfect
How was your Thanksgiving? For our holiday we learned that old farmhouses have rules ALL THEIR OWN, which in the end reinforced to notion that feeling gratitude has to be a choice.
It started with a broken sink. What we thought would be a two-hour repair then turned into a multi-day trial that stretched well into the afternoon on Thanksgiving itself. History and old homes have their charms but not necessarily when it comes to plumbing!
Between the usual flurry of farm chores and then playing with pipes for hours, we didn't start cooking until well into the afternoon. When we did sit down to eat Thanksgiving dinner it was...11:30 PM. By that time I had hungrily grumped that if we took any longer we would pass midnight and miss the holiday completely.
But then Silas, with a wisdom that is inherent to childhood, corrected me, "No, mom. If we eat slow and go into tomorrow then we get to have TWO Thanksgivings!"
In the end, that was our holiday - strangely stressful and perfectly imperfect as it spanned beyond midnight and into a second day. But am so thankful for the resilient optimism of a child and how it reminded me that I can choose to see the good in anything, even plumbing problems.
Wishing you well as we move into the holiday season. Times are strange but may at least some of our struggles reveal that the universe is actually offering us a chance to give thanks twice.
We're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat
First, we wanted to let you know we have all sorts of beef back in stock and some new things too. The online store is freshly updated and you're welcome at the farm any time. We will also be at both Clinton and Hamilton Market this week with all the goodies if you need anything. Scroll down for more on what's available right now...
Second, have you seen Jaws? If so you might remember the scene where they first spot the shark and then realize exactly they're dealing with. The man tossing chum into the water gets an eye-full and then slooooowly backs into the wheelhouse to flatly tell the captain, "You're gonna need a bigger boat."
We haven't seen that movie in years but we've been thinking about that scene a lot in the last few days. It seems like a good metaphor for any situation in which one realizes a different plan is needed. And it's looking like we might need a different plan...
Just a few years ago a small farm like ours could eek out a decent living by selling at farmers markets. That no longer seems to be true. All the local farmers we talk with have theories on how and why this change occurred, but we're not sure there is any one answer. Sometimes things just change and that's OK. What we do know is that when we come home from market and tally the books, we feel a lot like the man in Jaws realizing we need to do something different. It makes us sad to write this but it's true: farmers markets alone no longer pay the bills. Something needs to change.
So friends, where to from here? Since we farm for you and with you, we thought you might like a say in what the new boat looks like. As your farmers, how can we make it easier to support local farms?
Some ideas we're considering:
on-farm store/farm stand -would you be willing to come to us?
cooperation with other local farms for more diverse CSA/farm store offerings - we can't do it all and other local farms have great stuff.
more structured online ordering opportunities and home delivery
farm tours, farm dinners, and homesteading/farm skill classes
shipping...
others....?
If you have any ideas and a second to reply to this email, we'd love to know your thoughts. What works for you? How can we serve you and others in our community better so we can better pay the bills and keep farming for years to come?
Thank you so much for being here and for the gift of your time and support. We truly couldn't do it without you, nor would we want to.
Sincerely,
Your farmers - Kelly and Adam and Silas
Here’s a photo from yesterday's sheep move. They are currently grazing a field without any trees so we build them a new shade structure in each daily paddock. Bella and Cosmo are doing their jobs beautifully and the fields are bonkers with butterflies! High welfare farming is hard work but it certainly has its perks... :)
Because We Like This Planet
Lately I've been listening more carefully to all the calls for environmental action in the news. I'm so very glad humans seem to be paying better attention to this special sphere we call home. I kinda like this place...
But I also find much of the information to be conflicting and lacking in nuance, especially when it touches on food. Most agricultural-related environmental advice seems to boil down to: Eat plant based because meat is cruel and cow farts are going to end the world.
Every time a new study or report comes out telling me I am contributing to our planet's demise by being farmer and an eater of meat, I feel...guilty, just for a second. What if they're right? Then I look around our farm and compare those reports with what I can see with my own eyes: incredible biodiversity, healthy, contented animals, soils that improve each year, food that grows right outside the door- everything living in a loop as old as time.
They're not completely right but explaining why is not a simple task. That might be the biggest catch of all for us regenerative farmers - what we do and why we do it doesn't fit neatly in a soundbite. Still, I'm up for most challenges so I might as well try to add some nuance to the environmental eating conversation. Maybe they have you feeling guilty too, and you shouldn't. Not if you're eating from farms that close the loop.
I thought I might start by sharing some basic information on how the carbon cycle is affected by grazing livestock. The bit below is from a London-based company called The Ethical Butcher and explains it well. They gave me permission to share with it you and I encourage you to follow them on social media if you're into that.
As always thanks for being here and reading along, sometimes we just need more than a soundbite.
Kelly and Adam and Silas
From The Ethical Butcher, London England:
“About 40 percent of ice-free land on earth is considered grazing land, which sequesters about 30 percent of our planet’s carbon pool.
This is why we must stop factory farming. Now, because factory farming does not do this. Only animals raised in harmony with nature can accomplish this.
So how is carbon sequestered by animals and plants?
Every plant plays the vital function of removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, via photosynthesis. Using sunlight’s energy, the plant fuses that carbon with hydrogen and oxygen to make carbohydrates, which it moves into the soil through its roots. (It also maintains some carbon in its own leaves and shoots and stems.) The roots feed the carbohydrates to dirt-bound fungi; in return, the fungi feed minerals back to the plant. As Mother Earth News describes it, “This invisible partnership…is the foundation of the terrestrial carbon cycle, as plants incorporate carbon from atmospheric carbon dioxide into carbohydrate biomass.”
The longer a plant’s roots, the deeper it can sequester carbon in the soil and the more efficiently it can hold it there. A healthy grassland, with a diversity of region-specific native grasses can create deep carbon sinks. Managing grasslands well also contributes to carbon storage other ways: by building up soil health to make land more resilient to extreme events, according to Marcia DeLonge, senior scientist in the Food & Environment Program at the Union of Concerned Scientists. This, she says, “can protect existing soil carbon to some degree, but perhaps more importantly may allow continued carbon sequestration. In other words, even when events like extreme heat, drought, fire, and floods don’t significantly affect soil carbon immediately, they could affect the plants above ground that contribute to soil carbon in the longer term.”
Often working against these heroic efforts on the part of plants and trees, though, is agriculture. To produce some of the food we need in order to live, we disturb or destroy our carbon-storing ecosystems. We run animals through them in unsustainable ways, or we chop them down and plow them up to raise monocultures of crops like corn and soy—some of them to feed livestock, others to produce the fake meat that’s meant to replace real meat—that require still more plowing, as well as the application of chemicals that kill beneficial soil bacteria, fungi, insects. The land becomes degraded, and carbon-poor.
Improbable and illogical as it may seem, livestock can help.
There’s been a growing movement of farmers and ranchers who have moved towards a “new” model of raising cattle. I say new in quotes because actually, the concept is based on the way herding animals have lived in nature forever. This method is called many different things: mob grazing, rotational grazing, adaptive multi-paddock (AMP) grazing, holistic planned management and intensive grazing. The basic idea is that you need to intensively graze the herd of ruminants (grass eaters like cattle, bison, sheep, etc) on a piece of land and then quickly move them, providing the optimal nutrition for the animals and allowing the land to rest and recover. There’s more to it than this, and there are different philosophies on how often to move the animals, but that’s the basic idea: “biomimicry” or trying to replicate natural cycles as much as possible.
These are the farmers we source from, we will also teach more farmers to produce like this, because we like this planet.”
“Realize agendas drive data, not the other way around."
-Joel Salatin
Livestock in the Living Room
There is a lamb in our house. For the last three mornings he has served as my alarm clock, emitting a loud "meaaaahhhhh" at precisely 4 am--about the time his 1am bottle feeding has worn off. I get up and let him out of his puppy crate so he can muzzle-bump the back of my legs with vigor while I make his bottle and my coffee. I am his mother now, so I must be hiding my udder somewhere in the proximity of my knees? As such, another day on our farm begins.
In the meantime, how is spring going for you? I hope you're managing to get all your spring tasks taken care of between rain storms. Holy moly, the rain this spring! But life goes on and so do we, I guess we just wear rubber boots.
I know it's been awhile since I've been able to say hi so I wanted to tell you a bit of what we've been up to. We've been, ummmm, busy. Spring on a farm is equal parts exhilarating and exhausting and it's my favorite time of year. The sense of renewal and relief that comes with watching the world wake up is what I wait for all winter. Blooming flowers, new babies, singing birds, growing grass, livestock in the living room...
If you couldn't tell, we are in the middle of lambing and calving season. In fact it all got started last week during that cold, wet spell. We worked over, over, over time making sure the cows and sheep had a place to keep out of the wind or wet. Temps in the 40's combined with constant rain and a hard wind is hypothermia weather, even for livestock. Our calves and lambs stay right on pasture to be raised by their mothers, so it's our job to make sure they all have what they need to do it well.
The cow herd came down to the home farm where the hills and hedgerows eliminated the wind and we built the sheep their very own prarie-schooner of a pasture shed using gates and recycled baleage plastic. It looked a little bit like the Clampetts moved to NY to raise sheep but it really did the job. Thus, into a wet, grey world the first lambs and calves were born and their farmer/shepherds waddled through it all in plastic rain pants.
Fortunately the weather warmed up and the hard work has been worthwhile; we have 18 healthy lambs and 12 happy calves out in the pastures at the moment. We are expecting about 40 lambs and 36 calves this year. Oh wait, about that one lamb in the house! His name is Arthur.
It has been a long time since we've had a bottle baby, which is a good thing! We want those youngin's with their mamas. But on a farm, things happen and so Arthur lives with us for now. The plan is to get him back with his flock when he is old enough to do some grazing and get by on less-frequent bottle feedings. Once he is completely weaned (from the bottle and my knees, apparently) he will be a friend for the ram who gets to cool his heels in a bachelor pad all summer. There I imagine they will laze about, swapping manly sheep stories and chewing the cud, perhaps while playing some checkers...?
Ok, back to being serious. Spring on the farm is hectic, tiring, inspiring, messy, magical, and perfectly imperfect all at the same time. We push and push ourselves to offer best care possible for our animals because we know you expect it of us. We expect it of ourselves. High welfare livestock care is really hard work--your support and encouragement for our farm helps make it happen. Thank you from the bottom of my heart and lamb-worn knees for that. I'm so glad you are here to share in it all.
Please read on for details about upcoming markets, where to find our food, how to support our farm in the coming weeks (farms always need that), and a great recipe from a customer. Onward and upward together folks! Now, if you'll excuse me I hear a "meaaaaaaaah" coming from the other room...
Love,
Kelly
Long Johns Be Gone!
I'd say I’m pretty happy to see some spring sunshine!
How about you? What's your favorite sign of spring? I can never decide between the return of bird song at dawn, the peepers, or the daffodils pressing their snub little noses out of the warming soil. Actually, maybe it's that first morning I can step outside without wearing three layers of clothing...?
Last year I made up a joke about how if I had to have a pirate name, in the spring it would be "Long-Johns-Be-Gone".
Arrrrrr! And, um anyway... Just a quick hello from your farmer pirate to fill you in on a few things:
Summer Market Schedule. Outside markets start soon!
Easter Roasts, what's available and a few of our favorite recipes
A refresher on how to preserve local eggs during their most bountiful season, and
Spring Lamb orders
I'm heading back outside now, to help attend to the bazillion things spring throws our way. But feel free to get in touch if there is anything I can help you with. Be well and hope you get to soak up a little spring sunshine yourself!
Thank you for being here,
Kelly
1. QUARRY BROOK 2019 SPRING & SUMMER MARKET SCHEDULE
SATURDAY, APRIL 13
SATURDAY, APRIL 27
ONEIDA COUNTY PUBLIC MARKET-UTICA TRAIN STATION
9AM TO 1PM
**These are the last two train station markets we will attend until next November**
You can pre-order your food for these two final markets HERE
HAMILTON FARMERS MARKET-SATURDAYS
OPENS SATURDAY, MAY 4
8AM TO 1PM
Our booth will be across from the Hamilton Public Library
CLINTON FARMERS MARKET-THURSDAYS
OPENS THURSDAY, JUNE 6
10AM TO 4PM
We are on the Village Green across the street from Nola's
NEW HARTFORD FARMERS MARKET-TUESDAYS
OPENS IN JUNE (DATE TBD)
3PM TO 7PM
Sherrill Brook Park in conjunction with food truck night
Come get your local groceries and then get dinner from one of the food trucks!
Can't wait to see you! :)
2. EASTER ROASTS
If you need a roast for Easter we still have a few available:
Fresh Hams | uncured & unsmoked | fresh pork roast | boneless | approx 4 lbs | $14/lb
Lamb Leg Roast | boneless | approx 4 lbs | $16/lb
Mutton Leg Roast | don't laugh! they're really good and a good bargain for feeding a crowd | good mutton reminds me of extra buttery beef | boneless | approx 5 lbs | $10/lb
Please email me to reserve any of these roasts. I can also give you some ideas for less-traditional holiday fare if you aren't feeling like a roast. Lamb meatballs, spring stew, it's always ok to try something new.
Fresh Ham Roast Recipe
Honey Ginger Pork Roast Recipe
3. Here an egg, there an egg, EVERYWHERE an egg, egg… Old McDonald has lots of eggs! E-I-E-I-O!
How to stockpile this spring staple
It’s spring. Eggs are everywhere at farmers markets. It almost lets us forget that they will be much harder to find come fall. If you love your local eggs and don’t want to be without them come September, you might consider stocking up now and freezing them. It will be like nutritious, delicious money in the bank in a few months when all the local farms’ hens are on vacation and eggs almost disappear from markets. Read more...
4. SPRING LAMB ORDERS:
Everything is a cycle on the farm and we are just getting ready to complete the lambing cycle. That means we have just a few mature lambs ready for processing at the moment.
Now is a great time to stock up and have all sorts of great chops and kebabs in time for summer grilling season. After this the next lamb won't be ready until late fall.
**You select the cuts and we're happy to help walk you through it if needed**
WHOLE: 30+ lbs depending on cuts selected
Whole Lamb Price: $400 (includes processing)
Deposit: $200
Freezer space needed: A whole will fit into approximately 3 to plastic grocery bags.
HALF: Approx 15 + lbs depending on cuts selected
Half Lamb Price: $235 (includes processing)
Deposit: $100
Freezer space needed: A half will fit into 2 plastic grocery bags
Please send me an email to reserve your lamb. Please indicate size of lamb you would like (whole/half) and the best way to contact you. I will get back to you very soon to sort out the details.
Thank you!
"Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems"
-Rainer Maria Rilke
A Farmer's Heart
Spring is here and the warm sunshine has my farmers heart in a scurry. I want to get everything done, RIGHT NOW. Plant the garden, shear the sheep, start grazing! But the soil is too cold and the sheep still need their sweaters. The grass is not yet growing.
To farm is to coax life and a living from things mostly outside human control; to farm is to cede control. Sometimes it makes me think of a mouse riding an elephant; the mouse just has to hang on and hope the elephant takes it somewhere favorable.
Farmers can't control the weather, we can't control the markets. We certainly don't control our animals. (Although fences, generations of domestication, and good treatment encourage them to cooperate with us.) Nature is so many elephants and as farmers we are along for the ride, eyes wide with equal amounts exhilaration and trepidation.
I guess I never really know what's going to end up in my messages. I sat down to let you know what's up on the farm but now I'm going on about...mice? It kind of baffles me too. Just know that when this happens it's usually because my heart has something it needs to say. And so I follow where it leads...rodents astride elephants and all.
So where was I? Spring. Spring is here. The songbirds are chirping, the breezes and soils are softening. It is the season of renewal and awakening. It is also a season of anxiety.
Let me explain - for farmers this is the time of year where our metaphorical elephants all take off at a sprint. Ready or not, the ride starts NOW. So we clamber aboard and hope for the best while we head off into the unknown.
While we are up here busy with our work, the elephant moves beneath us and we know we will have to make the best of wherever we end up. As farmers, we do this year after year after year and it's always a little terrifying. The one thing that makes it all okay is the support we receive from our friends, families, and customers.
To have a sense of community when we can't have a sense of control is what keeps us on the elephant.
So, Spring is here and we have three huge projects to tackle right now:
1. Pay a fellow organic farmer for the load of hay he brought us to get the sheep and cattle through until the grazing season starts.
2. Provision the hens and pigs with their spring/summer load of supplementary grains.
3. Finish covering the up-front processing costs for the beef and lamb we recently sent to the processor. This will make Easter roasts available and allow us to continue having a wide inventory on hand for everyone.
These things add up to thousands of dollars and we need support to do them. We would welcome help in whatever form makes sense for you - maybe that's ordering some food or signing up for a CSA share in the next few days? Or maybe it just means sharing our story and bringing new friends to the fold. Simply cheering us on is wonderful too!
We have a good variety of meats, eggs, potatoes, and special bundles available right now so if you have some funds to spare toward groceries from our farm, we'd be very thankful and it would all go toward the projects above.
Thank you for being here, for following me on my flights of fancy, and for all your support. It's so very appreciated.
Peace, love, (and maybe some thundering pachyderms too...)
Kelly
With a Little Help from our Friends
We did it!!
In case you missed it, we asked for something in our last email. It was a hard thing to do. Farmers seem to be reticent and self-sufficient by nature and in tough times we just keep working and hoping. I don't know if that makes us optimists or fools. Maybe it's a little bit of both.
What I do know is that our friends and customers recently taught us a valuable lesson; you taught us that it's okay to ask for help when it's really needed. We needed to fund a farm project and you placed orders and signed up for CSA shares and it was all enough to make something really important happen. You all have floored me with your generosity and encouragement.
It took almost a year to find a bonded pair of working sheep dogs for whom our farm was a good fit. Then it took about 30 phone calls with their previous farm, a long drive to Massachusetts, and an outpouring of support from our community to bring them home. It may sound silly to be this serious about dogs, but for small farm in coyote country, a good pair of working dogs is essential.
Guess what? We were able to bring home our new guardians on Monday and they are perfect. The Italians are here! Welcome to the farm, Cosmo and Bella! They traveled like champs and are getting to know their flock now. They are settling in beautifully and I included some pictures below.
So thank you from the bottom of our farmer hearts for standing by us. I can't talk about it or think about it without choking up. Thank you for helping us give two working dogs a chance to keep doing what they know. Thank you for helping us keep our livestock safe. And most of all, thank you for the reminder that we don't walk this path alone.
With love and gratitude and on behalf of Cosmo and Bella, Grazie!
Kelly
The Italians are Coming!!
Sooo, we need a little help. Also, the Italians are coming! The Italians are coming! Or at least we hope so...
First, let me explain what I mean...
Cosmo and Bella are Maremmas which is a breed of working dog with origins in Italy. Centuries ago the breed was developed to protect sheep from wolves and other predators. They are GOOD at what they do.
Since we began keeping sheep, we have had a pair of Maremmas. They've kept our flock safe from from coyotes, foxes, and any other critters happy to snack on little lambs. As I've said before, wildlife is welcome on our farm but we'd rather they didn't eat our sheep!
For years our guardian dogs have been a hard-working and faithful part of the farm team. Sadly, we unexpectedly lost one of our dogs last summer. One day in June we went out for evening chores and found Marley gone. He had been his happy, silly self earlier that morning but it looked as if he'd later curled up for a nap and then never woke up.
While there was some comfort in the fact that his end was peaceful, it was a shattering discovery and one of the more tragic days in my memory. Since then his older sister Poly has been working double time, which is no easy task as she's not a young pup.
Hence, we have been looking for new recruits ever since. Then Poly can retire to a cushy desk job before the next grazing season. It has been a long few months, searching for dogs for whom our farm would be a good fit.
Okay, so now back to Cosmo and Bella...we were just alerted that they need a new job... and we have just such an opening... ah ha! Until recently they protected a goat herd in Massachusetts. However, their farmer just had to retire for health reasons and sold the goats.
The tricky thing about working guardian dogs is they need a task. Farm life is what they know and love and to remove them from that almost always makes for troubled dogs. Their current farmer is being very careful to re-home these dogs together and on a working farm where they can keep doing what they're meant to do.
After many phone conversations and questions, she feels our farm is a good match for them and we are honored to be entrusted with their future care.
As you might imagine, well-bred, well-trained and well-cared-for dogs such as Cosmo and Bella are not cheap. That is as it should be and they are worth every penny as they are an investment in the safety of our livestock and the future of our farm. We currently have about half of their $1,200 re-homing fee and that is where the part about needing a little help comes in.
Late winter is a notoriously tight time of year for farmers. We're lucky in that we always manage to squeak by but it's never easy.
Please don't worry, we've never asked our customers for donations and we're not going to start now. But what we would like to do is maybe encourage you order some food from us or sign up for a CSA share in the next few days? Those sales and shares will then be put toward the re-homing fee.
We have a good variety of meats available right now so if you have some funds to spare toward groceries from our farm, we'd be ever so grateful. You get good food, our sheep stay safe, and Bella and Cosmo get a forever home.
As always, thank you for being here, for reading my words, and entertaining my thoughts. It means a million just to know you care and are cheering us on.
Please use the buttons below if you'd like to place an order or sign up for a CSA share. Orders can be picked up at the next few markets or directly from the farm. Also feel free to email me with any questions or special orders.
Thank you so much and lots of love,
Kelly
Of Fishers and Men
Most mornings I get the littlest farmer to school and then do a round of chores before heading back home for breakfast. I feel lucky to start each day surrounded by living creatures. Aside from the sounds of livestock I get to hear crows call from the elm tree, starlings chatter in the barn rafters, and sometimes a fox will give a quick bark from the hillside above the creek. I love that life abounds in all forms on this farm.
Last Wednesday I got to glimpse a new creature. A fisher ran through the top of the field and across the road as I was feeding hay to the sheep. FIshers are solitary creatures and sightings aren't common. They are also slowly regaining population in this part of the state. To see one felt a little bit like luck. Once I was done with the hay, I followed and photographed it's tracks for a bit-just out of curiosity.
Later that day I told a handful of people about my experience and their reactions fell into two separate categories. A few wanted to know more about it; what it looked like, how big it was, how it moved. The others warned me that fishers are fierce and that it would eat our chickens and/or lambs so I should probably get rid of it before it started gobbling up livestock. Sigh...I was beginning to worry and also regret my decision to share.
Then an octogenarian farmer friend gave me this humbling bit of advice. He said to me, "A well run farm will have plenty else for that fisher to eat besides your hens. It will be happy with the rabbits and mice in the woods. Your job is to keep the rest of the farm healthy so nature can keep moving. If it goes after your livestock then you'll have to act somehow, but in the meantime try to understand what it needs. It's easier to provide than to prohibit."
Oh, how often we humans want to control the things we don't understand. Instead, what if we asked more questions? It was his last sentence that rang like a bell-such a simple truth-to try to act from a place of understanding rather than fear; to allow something to meet its own needs by maintaining a holistic system. Seems like a good way to run a farm...and live a life.
Lots of love,
Kelly
Snow's coming, Ma!
By now I'm sure you've heard that it's going to snow this weekend. Cue the scurry to prepare!
I spent most of yesterday getting ready for our first substantial snow of the season-stockpiling hay, bedding sheds, making sure our shovels are where we can find them...
Part of my storm-prep routine is to also contemplate what I'll cook while the weather does it's thing. Something easy and slow-cooking so that we can come in from chores to a house redolent with the smell of a warm winter favorite. Looking forward to the good meals helps take the edge off the extra work a snow storm creates for a farm.
Other folks must do this same thing because I've gotten a few requests for deliveries this weekend.
I need just a few more orders and then tomorrow morning I will head out to the villages of Clinton and Hamilton to make deliveries before the snow flies! Can I bring you anything?
We have lots of ground beef and lamb, pork sausage, pork chops, fresh bacon and hams, beef short ribs, lamb chops and roasts, fresh eggs and more.
I will be in Clinton at 9am in the Hannaford Parking lot-down by the entry end that is across from the liquor store.
I will be in Hamilton at 10am, parked near the front of the Hamilton Public Library (pretty much in front of where our Hamilton Market booth is during the summer).
Thank you for being here! I hope you have a warm and safe weekend and a thoughtful Martin Luther King Jr. Day.
-Kelly
Winter Markets Reminder:
Don't forget the Poolville Winter Farmers Market will only be held once a month from now through April. There is NO market there tomorrow and the next Poolville Market will be Saturday, February 2nd from 10am to 1pm.
The Oneida County Public Market's schedule does not change for the remainder of the winter season. It will continue to be held on the 2nd and 4th Saturdays of each month. We'll be there again NEXT Saturday, 1/26 from 9am to 1pm.
Have happy, healthy days until we see you next. :)
"If you can't fly then run, if you can't run then walk, if you can't walk then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward."
-Martin Luther King Jr.
Welcoming New Life
There is no moon and the dark is so deep walking into the field feels like being swallowed. I walk uphill and listen to my feet sweep the wet grass while bullfrogs throb a syncopation from the pond.
This field is vast and while I know where I want to go, the dark is disorienting. Having lost the power of sight to the night I listen for the muted, murmured sounds of the sheep to draw me in; a flock never really stops talking to itself.
Thirty heartbeats later, I'm at the edge of their paddock. I breath out and speak to the ewes in a low voice before scissor-hopping over their electric fence, happy to have cleared it completely. It doesn't always happen that way and the result is, well, shocking.
Now I need light and I switch on my headlamp. The night is suddenly alive with hundreds of eyes, a sea of startled fireflies. Among them I'm looking for one ewe. She started her labor earlier and should be lambing now if all is well.
After a moment I spy a single pair of eyes, alone and adrift near the fence line. She turns her head away and the green-fire reflections blink out. I creep carefully close and I can see she is attending to something on the ground. She makes a low, chuckle-gurgle in the back of her throat, a sound ewes make only when they are talking to new lambs.
I wait and again count my heartbeats to pass the time, twenty, thirty...fifty. Then I hear the sound that cracks my shepherd heart every time, a bleating, pleading, ascending note that seems to be the birth song of all mammals. All is well and I retreat, happy to leave the ewe to the privacy of darkness and her time-old task.
