There is always tension between so-called "civilization" and "where the wild things are" as Maurice Sendak said. Rural living on the edges of wilderness teaches us that we can live in that tension but it's not always easy.
Like all occupations, farming has its challenges. For that matter, so does life. In the midst of our busy days, we need to notice those good moments.
A small family farm seldom makes you wealthy – there aren’t too many trips to Europe and the retirement plan can be pretty “iffy.” But farming brings its own rewards, those that in the end mean far more than the lights of Paris.
Sometimes before the rain, we live through those dry days. Rain brings the hope of the greening of the earth, of the life that water gives.
Fall has arrived and with the change in season, it changes our work. We begin to prepare the summer beds to mostly lay fallow during the rainy winter months. Also, the season’s change means our menu planning changes as well.
California has had the worst drought year in recorded history. If we don't get some rain, farmers won't be the only ones crying the blues.
Perhaps bee stings aren't the best thing on which to try out home remedies. Life in the country has its risks, but common sense usually wins the day.
Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to save the world, to make things better, to be a hero. Well, I've long since accepted that I'm no hero, but I never forgot what an old farmer told me, "You wanna change the world, honey? Then start where you are, use what you've got."
Rural living involves a lot of learning by trial and error. Our plan to make big money from sheep went awry, but if we don't ever fail, it may mean we have quit trying anything new or challenging.
Raising heirloom tomatoes, like all farming, is full of challenges. This year we have battled blossom end rot and the war's not over yet.