Fancy New CSA Poster

We're stepping it up around here. Our first advertising investment; let's see if it works!

pics for market

Chickies; Big is Beautiful

Hooray for the fluffy ladies joining Bluebird Meadows! We picked up eight gorgeous, just feathered out chickies on Valentine's Day from a woman from town who had ordered too many for her backyard flock. We have 2 Light Brahmas, 2 Golden Laced Wyandottes, 2 Black Jersey Giants, and 2 Buff Orpingtons. They're 2 months old so we have a while before we get any eggs, but they are definitely entertaining.
We have an old pile of horse manure sitting around on the farm waiting for when we get our blueberry beds ready and it has a nice full covering of chickweed and henbit, perfect greens for the little biddies. And no roosters which is nice as we have them right outside our bedroom for the time being.
I spoke with a local creamery owner this past Saturday about the possibilities of acquiring a Jersey milking cow to milk for ourselves and some friends. She said we would want 'an old lady' to start out with. We would be more tethered to the farm than ever with a twice a day milking. Goats or a cow, goats or a cow? And I need to figure out how to make elementary cheeses and butter. Yogurt. Time to break out some books and call some experienced friends! We probably won't tackle a milking scene this year, although it is so tempting, and sometimes you just have to dive right in. We'll see.
Regarding the Ruth Diaries----we had to share the picture of her naked beateousness. We think it qualifies for ESPN's bodies we want, 2012. Right? Which, in case you haven't checked it out already, here is the link. You can thank me later. We forwarded them her picture saying looks like they forgot someone; we haven't heard back from them yet, but we're thinking we'll get a call today.
At market yesterday I had quite a few customers come up and say,"About those flowers I got from you last week"....and then a long pause....long enough for me to run through all the horrible scenarios in my head....but then comes...."they were AMAZING! And they still look fabulous! So I don't need any this week, but I just wanted to tell you that".....and then they walk away, flowerless. And I throw around a few expletives in my mind. Hmmmm. Love to hear that, but c'mon people, fresh is the best!

Cold Daze

My brain has gone numb with this weather. Two days of night temperatures in the teens and I get all addled, the puzzle pieces of the season that had begun to come together drift to the ground like snow and I want to cover my head with a pillow and have a long deep slumber.
But there is no time for slumber around here! Especially not with a milk addict like Ruth who wailed for 45 minutes her first wake up last night, slowly and successfully breaking her mother while her father shakes his head at me as I lift my shirt and she quickly finds a taut breast equally as ready to let go of milk as she is to drink, and instead of sobs we hear a contented sucking sound and sighs. Finally!
I am a strong woman, but in the face of my crying daughter I am reduced to submissive puddles. MUST BE STRONGER! NO MEANS NO!
But I digress. Back to the farm--I seriously want a couple milking goats and am trying to figure out how we can keep up with them. Stuart and I are coming up with so many great ways to grow our farm we really need to be careful and cautious about how we do it. And wicked smart. We're getting chickens tomorrow. Only 8 to start with. The next step after that is obviously milking goats, right? Is having two milking goats wicked smart? Hmm, something tells me no.
I just finished The Dirty Life about the crazy ambitious farming couple up in New York. Makes what we do look easy. I recommend it; it's a fast read and gives so much insight into the wild ride of farming and has given me quite a bit of food for thought.

Some things are best in pairs

Now What? Oh, sclerotia.

So I finished 1Q84 this past week and have been in a bit of a stupor ever since. It feels as if I've spent a few intense weeks with a newfound friend and all of a sudden the friend is gone, having vanished even in the imaginary space we did share. I walk around the house scanning the books we do have on the shelves (admittedly, embarrassingly, most of our books are still in boxes from when we moved two Novembers ago. yes, i'm serious.) and nothing will do. I wasn't even that crazy about the story, but there is something so enthralling about the way Murakami writes that I am all his when I read his books. He blurs the line between different worlds so successfully you forget which one is real. A true magician with thought processes.
We've been dealing with lots of tulips around here lately. Unfortunately they aren't my best and I'm beginning to get a complex about what the hell am I doing wrong. I wish I was a soil whisperer; I would pick up a handful of soil, blow some of it in the air and right before my eyes it would form sparkling constellations telling me what I need to add to make my flowers grow to perfection. Instead, I go into the hoophouse and watch sclerotia spread like wildfire. What is sclerotia you ask? No, it's not some obscure male body part lurking in rarely visited sweaty creases. Sclerotinia Stem Rot, more commonly called 'white mold' or 'farmer's nightmare' or 'what the *#^* and I supposed to do with this'.
It is a nasty business that is wreaking havoc in our hoophouses. We have NO IDEA what we should do about it. It goes crazy during wet, wintry conditions but also rears its ugly spores anytime it wants. Can live for seven years dormant in the soil. Wonderful for us. I guess I should count our lucky stars our flowers have done as well as they have. But enough of the sadness.
I'll end this on a positive note; baby Ruth is now laughing out loud in earnest, but only when we try very very hard. She doesn't laugh at just anything, it's gotta be real cray cray to deserve her giggles. She's making me and Stuart stay on our toes I tell ya. And she is loving her toes. Cutest girl. We are so lucky.