Winds of Change

As the hours near my departure I am drawn to the stillness that accompanies large change. The surrender that comes with inevitable way of time. The nearing half moon seems fitting as I ponder the bittersweet that comes with leaving my folks and my home here at the Tasajillo Ranch. My intention with this page was to keep a diary of all of our 'farm' activities. But as the rains came to welcome the spring, life grew strong and aggressively, demanding the time, energy and attention it requires to cultivate a life drawn from the soil. My words moved through my mind as the warm winds blew around me, but never found their way to this page. As the endless summer heat draws near in the South, I write this entry in sum.
My father and I erected a beautiful garden, stumbling upon countless lessons along the way. Within it we planted corn, soybeans, potatoes, melons, peppers, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, nasturtiums, lettuces and leafy greens, italian flat beans, peas, carrots and cabbage to name a few. I planted our herb garden with oregano, basil, sage, parsley, cilantro, rosemary, chives and lemongrass. Landscaping went up around the house honoring both native and non-native plants. We fenced the garden, and the chickens. We cut probably over 1000 grape vines, and are still in wait to see if there are fruits from that labor. Fig and plums trees were planted to accompany the other trees in the orchard. Lavender was planted down the midline of the orchard. Slippery elm trees, great for culling wood from as they are fast growing and regenerative, were seeded and are now thriving, waiting to be planted at the head of the property.
Having spent years in the north, where plants are just now finding their way into warming ground, I feared I wouldn't be around to reap benefits from the harvest. But down here, where the weather has reached 90 degrees a handful of times already, it's all we can do to keep a handle on the prolific squash, cucumbers and leafy greens (and the ravenous bugs!). We've also pulled in eggplant, flat beans, and carrots. A few days ago I canned the first of the season. Nine jars of pickles, and made 7 jars of loquat, apple and orange jam. I blanched, bagged and froze enough squash to last through most of the winter - with more of these veggies coming in every day. It has been an honor to work alongside my father and mother as we care for this land and carve a place of belonging for our traditionally nomadic family. I know that with each bite of melon, corn and tomatoes they will savor in the coming months that I will be part of the pleasure, both in labor and in spirit.
My move from a busy desk life to the belly of the country was an easy one. There was an atavistic craving to return to a simple life with efforts spent laboring on food. I will miss the call of the wild as it lulls me to sleep here. The nighthawk that screeches as I return to my trailer, the coyotes lulling me from deep dreams, the rooster reminding me there is another day waiting for me to be present, fervent, compassionate. It is an understatement that all of this time and experience that was shared with my parents was a precious honor. I am deeply grateful for the unexpected turns in life that took me down here, and returned me closer to my roots.
In a day's time, I venture forth, where I will go to Montana tand the Northwest corner of the US, traveling with my dear partner and eventually make my way to my end destination for the next three years in Illinois, to complete my Masters degree in Fine Art. I am fortunate also to be pursuing a field I love and feel very passionate about. Perhaps this journey has most taught me to climb out on the branch that the deepest part of me calls for, and have the faith to know that I will wind up exactly where I need to be. Along the way I intend to keep my hands in the dirt, find peace in the quiet moments, and slow my pace down to savor all of this around me because life is a precious gift to be rejoiced and spent in attendance.
As I've packed my truck, new tenants have moved in. A pair of barn swallows have made there way into the courtyard and appear to have found home. I am envious of my parents opportunity to watch them build their nests and raise a family, not 15 feet from where we have breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday. I look forward to frequent updates about the swallows and all of the wild stories played out at the Tasajillo Ranch.

The Gift of Garden

Signs of Spring

We've reached the leap of the year, with our toes almost crossing the line into March. Texas spring is kind - much kinder than up north. In Montana it's hard to call the days spring until May graces everyone. But down here, despite the blizzards in the North we were greeted with the first hot night last night, requiring fans and lighter sheets. The days have been warm with scattered showers, and the flowers have begun to respond to the warm, wet days. A few strawberry plants live next to my trailer and they've flowered, gone green and now are ripening into sweet red berries. It is a great time of year to be outside, preparing for what we hope will be a productive growing season.

For the past month we have been working on building the garden beds for Tasajillo Ranch. The beds are to be set where the garden was last year, in a field just down from the chicken coop. They are being built primarily as a means to keep out the gophers! It's a lot of time, effort and money to keep the rascals out, but for as long as there is a war between gophers and vegetable plants, the gophers will always win. They find their way to the roots and begin nibbling from there, eventually sucking the whole plant down with them. So, in order to receive any benefit from the efforts of gardening these beasts of garden beds must be built to fed off unwanted underground terrors! To build the frames we have been using 12"x8' treated lumber. The corners have been capped with mesh wire to secure them  from future shifting. One whole side has been covered by chicken wire and then 2"x4" steel mesh.
To prepare the beds we skim off of the ground cover, dig a few inches down to create level ground and then lay the frame on top (mesh side down). From he we fill the beds with a mix of our dirt (which is heavy in sand and clay), compost, peat moss, and a fertilizer that is a mix of sea bird guano, coffee grounds, and an organic soil enricher.

We have completed fifteen beds and nearing the end of building them. There is still a lot of soil needed to be moved in order to fill them. We are racing against the clock, with the hopes to direct sow the majority of our crop come March 3rd. I have already filled 5 beds with early season plants including lettuces, kale, collards, bok choy, turnips, onions and sweet peas. I will dutifully detail my planting activities here soon.

To all of you up North - stay warm and have hope, spring is just around the corner for you. For those of you down south - let the gardens begin!!


To see photos of the process take a look here!:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/36042652@N04/sets/72157629400943451/

My Valentine Chicken

Sgt. Williams (far right) with some of the ladies

So valentines day came, I had the ranch to myself and was preparing for a nice evening with a glass of wine, cleaning my trailer and rocking out to some music. The dogs were playing next to my abode since everyone else was gone. While in the trailer I hear a ruckus outside and realized the chickens had barged inside of the cabin. Unfortunately we have a dog who triggers when chickens get inside of confined areas (he does perfectly fine when they're out in the open!). Needless to say, during the process of getting the chicken out of the cabin our dog got ahold of her. Fortunately, the rest of the process went pretty quick...

It was interesting to watch myself in this process - the whole process. I have kept chickens for four years now and as most chicken farmers know, there's always one death in the family somewhere. While in Missoula, the group I was living with decided to get chickens as an opportunity to be closer to our food - and with living animals, it's too close for comfort sometimes. We got chicks and raised them to be full birds. Three of them were sexed female, but the chick I picked was a wild card. As it so happens mine grew up to be a beautiful bantem, a protective, testosterone filled male. We had thoughts for a while that that might be the case, but assured our ears were when we heard the awkward pubescent craw of a rooster outside our bedroom window one fine summer morning. To clarify the significance of this, we lived in town and roosters are not permitted in city limits (unless on dinner plates!). The household's agreement was that you kill your chicken. And so it was my turn. Although I have the whole process documented, I think the thing I take away from it is the experience itself. At the time, I didn't process the bird - my roommates swept in and went captain anatomy-team on Banshee the Bantem, allowing me the time to process the shattering and overwhelming sensation in me. It was a challenge, and yet, after my adrenaline subsided, I found a great appreciation for the opportunity to be close to the truth of my food. My dinner did not come from a plastic-wrapped package that night.
In subsequent chicken deaths I have de-feathered and gutted birds. This Valentine Frenchie was my first to go through the whole process - alone. It's interesting as humans our capacity to adjust and desensitize to traumatic situations. And I would call death traumatic. But I knew what to do, over my past years of exposure I have created a pocket in my mind, a place built to honor and acknowledge what has happened but also to respond and know what to do. I prepared my materials - put the tea pot on (to help de-feather), found a sharp knife, scissors, trash bag and cutting board. I mentally walked through steps I've seen. And I fully processed my first chicken. I'm not the best butcher around, but I got the job done! Two hours later I transformed the traumatic experience into a bird ready to celebrate with others over a meal.

I have been wrestling with the idea of animals as food for many years now. As a child I was a religious carnivore. On a bet I couldn't eat meat, I accepted the challenge to become a vegetarian, this bet transformed into a lifestyle from the ages thirteen to seventeen. I have wavered between these two extremes ever since. For me, there has been a war waged between morality (thou shall not kill/reduce suffering) and biology, and for so long they have seemed mutually-exclusive circumstances. This came to a head during a week-long bike trip with my partner while I was in a vegetarian phase. We got to day three and my body needed the meat. In the backcountry of Yakk, Montana we found a small restaurant where I had an AMAZINGLY delicious beef burger. I've had many delicious burgers over the course of my life, but this one had me determined to find a balance between 'morality' and meat. Believing that our bodies have intuitive knowledge of what we need that brings us to balance, I have known all along that animal protein is nourishing for my body. But how could it be moral? There are some wonderful books out there that delve into this very topic. Two that I found well-informed and pertinent were Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollen and Eating Animals by Jonathan Foer. Of the many books I read, these two lodged in my memory.

In saying all of this I recognize people's relationships with their food is incredibly personal. I find the conversations I have often bring up strong reactions. But of course they do! Food is pivotal to human interaction, culture, family history and biology. It is a foundation to humanity. I think what I have come to so far is the understanding that there is a middle ground in all of this. That we can be responsible omnivores, reducing overall harm by taking into consideration the environment the food (both animate and non) is raised, the care to which it is processed, how much gas it takes to get it to our front door, and the amount we consume. From looking at many of these issues, I believe we can have our meat, and morality too!! As a sum, I feel very grateful for the opportunity to be close to the pulse of my food and the chance to share it with you. I would be curious to hear your thoughts on the matter! 

Banshee as a Babe (Far Left)

Happy Valentine to you all. May your feet feel connected to this earth, what a blessing this opportunity at life is.

First Sprouts

First Start of Seeds

Today is brisk, and as I make my way from my trailer to the house the smell of mesquite smoke fills the air, soothing cold bones. Despite the fact that temperatures can and will still drop we have begun the planting season already. We have set our own 'last frost' date around March 3rd. This is an approximation from other sources. In the event we receive a frost later the veggies will be tucked nice and safely in their beds with row cover laid over them, which helps protect from frost and pests. It's light weight, allowing moisture and light to come through but protecting the delicate starts.

On February 2nd we began planting our first round of seeds. A combination of flowers and heat-loving plants in the night-shade family - tomatoes, and an assortment of spicy-mild peppers as well as collard greens. A week later we added cucumbers, morning glories, basil and a couple of other tomato varieties that supposedly do well in the Texas heat. The seeds have been potted in what are traditional grass starter pots (work with what you've got!). Originally we have the planters sitting in tubs filled with water so they could soak up water from the ground, but we found the sprouts were too water logged and so we removed them. Currently they are sitting on the ground protected from North Winds. They have the clear plastic tubs turned on top of the seeds, which protects them from frost and also creates a mini-greenhouse effect.

Stayed tuned, lots of work to still detail as we have begun building the garden beds for the permanent garden space.

Let the Farm Begin!

In honor of the beginning of the 'spring' season here in Texas I begin a blog to detail the farm work I am partaking in. An avid lover of all things earthy and edible, I find joy in bringing these experiences to those more city bound than I. I am currently fortunate enough to be living in the country just south of San Antonio, Texas - a place of my childhood and much of my family. Previously I have been sticking my hands in the dirt of Montana territory - a place where spring is currently just a far-off imagination. I am working at the Tasajillo Ranch, my parents dream place, finally manifested after many years of traveling and hard work. My opportunities are a gift from them, and for the duration of this blog during my time in Texas I dedicate these entries to them.

To give you some background about me, I am a painter, a yoga teacher and a spirit always trying to find the middle path. I left Montana and a stressful office job in violence prevention to find the quiet of the countryside and a closer relationship with the land. I have had an interest in farming for many years now, which I owe in part to my dirt-loving partner of six years. While in Montana we turned a college-pad into a co-operative urban farm house with a garden, chickens and back-to-roots experiments galore.

Afternoon Light around the Fire Pit, Tasajillo Ranch

I hope this blog to be an opportunity to detail our current projects, my food creations and preservations and the knowledge I've gained to date.