There is certainly a shift to the light lately, and of course, the astrological shift (we’re feeling that a lot) = the seasonal changes. The Ash trees have already let go of all their leaves (we have one in the drive and one by the sugar shack), and the Maples are changing, but the grapes and forsythia in the yard are still full and green. It is an off-year for us with the apples (just a few here and there), but our pears and peaches are plentiful. It’s good to have fruit that alternates years so we aren’t struggling to process everything simultaneously.

We like to learn at least one or two new things a year and put into practice. This year we were able to put up a couple of bottles of Itasca white grape wine. The ripe grapes were heavenly, just full and round — they are small but very delicious (the interwebs describe them as having ‘typical aromas and flavors including pear, quince, kiwi, starfruit, gooseberry, and honeydew melon,’ and we might agree with this tropical sort of sweet variety of flavors though maybe with the savory roundness of ground cherry. Though they do manage to have 3 grape nuts in every grape (nearly as much grape nut as grape) but the skins were not too bitter or tart. We’re hoping the wine will come out nicely. We squeezed the fresh grapes into a 3 Gallon Ohio Crock (it filled about halfway), added organic cane sugar for food and let them ferment for a couple of days. When they slowed down we bottled them and added brewer’s drops to each bottle and let them sit. We’re going to open one this week to test it and hopefully the others will age until Solstice. It seems like it will do best as a young wine so we hope it works out. As for growing them, they took a couple of years to take off (we had 3 years of drought, then 2 years of flood, so they took some time to acclimate, I think being in the ground starting as 2 foot canes for a couple of years, but then last year started to climb. This year they exploded so for next year we will have to train them along our fenceline (likely in some sort of Kniffen method). They are quite lovely and were not hit as hard as the Northern Concord with rust or even Japanese beetles.

We’re finishing off a batch of Carmelized Peach Butter with Honey & Vanilla this week from our peach which we think is a Lovell (we actually grew a different variety but it died and the Lovell rootstock took over). It grows lovely smaller and harder but no less delicious peaches (probably great for just canning straight-up peaches) than our Garnet Beauty. We got about 30lbs off each tree this year. We sliced and froze all the Garnets for crisps, oatmeal, pancakes, upside down cakes, etc all Winter. The plums took a hit in the Spring from a heavy wet snowstorm and though it is not dead, it needs some heavy pruning this year and then maybe it will bloom at the same time as the other plum (the other plum managed to have a couple of baby plums but ants took over — I’m not enjoying the plum trees as much as the peaches and pears, they seem too high maintenance). We’re still not sure when to pick our pears and might jump in this week as we have 2 (out of 6) that are heavy bearers though they don’t look like they were fully pollinated (they have lumpy little faces). We shall see.

And we had plenty of herbs, flowers, and Asian greens this Summer (we prefer Tatsoi and Purple Pac Choi — they are yummy even when they bolt and the deer don’t seem to know what to do with them so they leave them alone). We had volunteer Cherry Tomatoes (which I have never seen before!), early Snap Peas/Snow Peas, and Peppers. Most of the beans and the second round of peas were eaten by the deer (because we didn’t get new fencing put up this year, we were hoping for wattle but that got away from us).

We like to eat a lot of foraged greens too, especially in the Spring when they are young and the farm doesn’t have much yet, but we are grateful to have our CSA from Andrews Farm here in Gardiner. It keeps us very well fed, as does visiting the Farmer’s Market weekly. We’ve been roasting the heck out of gorgeous little striped Eggplants (from Dig Deep Farm), stirring Lacinato (Black Kale or Dinosaur Kale) into loose hot pans of beans or grains or soups, or eating up Micro Green Salads with Pumpkin Vine Valley Farm aged Feta (seriously, the best feta we’ve ever had), Snafu Acres Farm eggs, and homemade pizza (our Sourdough crust) with Wild Fruitings mushrooms. Now is the time for the Delicata to start making its way into our life (we love it simply roasted with fat garlic cloves, olive oil, and sage or rosemary and tossed onto salads, beans, or rice), and lots of Broccoli and Cauliflower (again, mostly roasted but also tucked into Cheddar Bread Pudding, made into soups, brushed with Miso and roasted or stir-fried atop rice — the kid loves broccoli), late season Peppers which we generally chop up and freeze (then they are easy to grab a handful and use during the Winter). Though we still have a couple of fat Zucchini left which we can stuff with Saffron Fregola and roast, or hold for one last Summerish fry (I kind of have a ridiculous weak spot for fried & battered seedy rounds of Zucchini — I’ve got the batter down to a mix of cornmeal, a little flour, baking powder, and salt/lemon pepper and just a light coating of egg in the middle of flouring, sauteed not deep-fried but I can still only have them once or twice a year — I can’t control myself).

We generally can’t wait for the deepening of Autumn, but the shift signals certain pleasures we are ready for (and then hopefully a little weather where we can get the woodstove going!). Happy Oktober.

So, we got a email letter yesterday sent to our website (I’ll share it below because why not…it’s interesting to see people’s words and thinking, but without their name because public shaming people who do not know any better is not our thing) which solidified how we’ve been feeling in this area lately. We know better because so many lovely folks show up but with the state of the world as it is, it is easy to get sucked into the vortex of negativity and overwhelm. But a funny thing happened…when we shared this letter online, we were instantly supported by hundreds of friends and our community. It reminded us we’re not alone in a sea of struggle and insanity.

And I (particularly I, not we) reactively wanted to write a letter defending us, correcting them, and pointing out their lack of clear thinking but I sat on it, and crafted a letter really getting to the heart of the matter (as I see it) which is about care. Some folks are concerned about the divisiveness in our society but their division is only between binary systems (gender, political parties, race, etc) and not within a relation of care. If you really care about people, then you will want to help them be safe and secure disregarding the various ways we go about living. This is ecological because care takes care of everyone. I want to be clear — not everyone is welcome in our space or life, only those who care for others, who care for the very existence of everyone. If your logic dictates that this means we do not care for everyone, you have missed the point. We care. That’s it. This does not mean that we let abusive people act as they see fit. In fact, it means we act against it — with care as our force. Think of it as similar to the Golden Rule but without the trappings and rhetoric of damaging ideology (and idolatry). Our practices (which are not ideologies because they are not restrictive systems with a teleological moral imperative but adaptive practices in living amongst other living beings) do not harm anyone, unlike uncaring points of view. Perhaps this is part of the letter I wanted to write.

Instead, this is the letter I did write:

I want to apologize that you do not feel welcome in our store. It is key that we create a safe and welcoming space for growing a community who believe that diversity is positive. I wish you were in a place in your life open to caring for this diversity.

If we were to have a conversation, you would find that politics is very much not our thing — we aren’t particularly impressed by the lack of responsible representation in our political system and do not feel that caring for people is a political act, but a sensible one. We do not collectivize anything but offer ways to critically think and question limited care thinking. We foster a place where people can feel free and safe to be the kind of people who support each other. As women, we have already had a history of suppression and oppression, I can’t imagine doing that to others.

However, if you are not ready for this kind of place or thinking, I wish you well. If you meant to shame me or make me feel bad, you have accomplished your goal. No one likes to be told that they are not worthy of respect or care. If you want to reduce or hurt our business, I suppose by losing you as a customer we have — but I did share your letter (without your name) and have had overwhelming support and care from our community which makes us feel so welcome and reinvigorated to help those in need. At the end of the day, we are not here for customer service but for community relations. This community lives alongside you, so perhaps you do not know your neighbors as well as you could. I hope that you find the time and energy to do so — compassionately, and with great care.

All the best.

So, that’s what has been happening in our world. We thought our struggles this week were going to be getting to the jungle we call a garden and homestead but it seems to be a bigger question of community, home, and care. The outpouring of love we got online and in-store makes us sigh with relief. We’re not alone — we are in good relations.

Thank you.

It’s been a week for sure. Just when we think we are getting caught up, another wave rolls us over. I haven’t foraged yet this year, and as of today haven’t seen the garden in a week — who knows what’s going on out there?!! If we’re lucky, all the plants are working it out, making do, and growing appropriately but I peeked a few days ago and it looked like the deer had eaten the climbing dry bean vines. I’m scared to go out there. I might just lie down on the weeds and cry.

There’s a shift; I’m not knowledgeable in cosmic ways to know what it is or how to navigate it. We’re trying to be gentle in the worldspace but we’re feeling a little chewed up right now. We can tell that we’re likely to cycle from the surreal to despair very easily and are trying to keep our footing. And we hear that it’s like that for a lot of folks right now. I’d like to say we have a couple of days to hunker down and regroup, but it seems unlikely. We’ll just have to rely on grounding moments and hope it’s enough. Though there is a part of me wanting to cancel everything and take a mental health week (but unfortunately, that’s the thing that has been cancelled, ‘maybe we can go camping next year’, which is what we said last year…).

Someone recently read a brilliant poem at one of the Open No-mic nights about how they are not asking the universe for much…just to catch our breath, just for a little break…yeah. We’re feeling that.

We have this lovely cloud ‘field guide’ I’m in love with right now. And the clouds have been very fantastic. I think I’ll focus on that for awhile.