Ride Like the Wind, You Naturally Grown Warriors!

I don't know about you out there walking around on different parts of the Earth, but Riceboro, Georgia just got hot. We playfully spent Spring maintaining low humidity, cool breezes, and an abundance of rain and then suddenly, humidity hit, the breeze slowed, and the thickness of the Deep South settled accross the Low Country. Doesn't make you want to do much more than eat watermelons and shell Crowder Peas in the shade. We finally recovered from all the soppy marsh soil we'd been managing for the two weeks of rain, and the farmer and the farm are still a bit behind, but we all seem to be trimming up nicely. The vibrant colors of summer articulate the landscape like paintings and our Okra plants are sharing with us their brilliant blooms, a deep blood red surrounded by a hue that seems to dance on the rainbow between the colors green and yellow.

Our meals hum with intensity as we feast on Hot Peppers, Fresh Tomatoes, flavor oozing Okra, and whatever delicious meat we picked up from the farmers market on Saturday. Something about the summer makes us feel alive, like all the colors on our plates bring out all the colors in ourselves. The struggle of Summer in the South is one of a Southern Farmer's greatest lessons. Summer brings heat from the sun, lack of rain, and thick humidity resting on your shoulders. All of this love and loss, effort and strife for sliced tomatoes and delicious homemade Mexican feasts. A Farmer in the South is probably a lot like farmers all over the place, but it does seem true that anyone farming down at the bottom of our Nation has a dedication to a strong back and a good tomato sandwich.

The wilds of the internet have given me a window into the farming lives of people from all parts of this Nation and the diversity in season and the variation in seed choices is enough to bring hope to any struggling thinker. The idea that so many people are sharing the important task of bringing real food to their community is something that brings me my second wind on a Friday afternoon when there is still a list of things to do and a temperature that has more than 2 digits. Knowing that dedicated customers support these brave people fighting to make a difference in a world that is not ready to change is what motivates me to get up at 4:45 AM every Saturday and put on my best, "I swear I am in a great mood and of course I want to set up the Market Booth!" smile. Saturdays are long days, but every single person that tells me a new recipe or asks me if my food is "Organic" is a reminder that people want to be good to each other and good to this world we share.

The truth is, we've got a rocky road ahead of us. Our food administration is hell bent on protecting anyone with enough money to cushion the immediate impact of their actions. Discount factors are high among humans and trapping our poorest brothers and sisters in the nutrient desert that is convenient, cheap fast food is not an empowered system and is a laughable evolutionary miss step. Forgetting how to take care of each other is how money has made us feel powerless. We have a world here, and it can be anything at all that we want it to be, we just have to settle for a little more sun on our skins and a little less sugar and empty nutrients.

Sometimes I am overcome with worry, but tonight, tonight I am in awe of you warriors out there bringing life to our communities and kindling for our souls. I am immensely grateful for such constant inspiration from people I have met who are promoting a healthy food system through their daily actions. I feel absolutely fulfilled when I see a tired Mother bringing her beautiful children to Market every Saturday to pick out the food they will eat that week. Getting to see these young, future fate holders of our planet eat a tomato right from the table or get excited about Okra is enough to put a permanent smile on my face. As I skim through the pictures of Farms growing everything from corn to kale, from tomatoes to turnips, I am less at odds with everything. I fight less for the cynical side of my mind and root more for the power of the individual, for the strength of the masses.

And Then She Said, "Let There Be Love!"

I have been sitting here staring at this screen trying to figure out what doomsday scheme I could write about this time, something deep seeded in human evolution or otherwise manifested from the evils of our greed and really all I could think to write about today is Love.

Throughout my life I have gone through plenty of my own external and self made struggles, I have found comfort in sorrow and being solitary and I have, on the other hand, felt moments of enlightenment, positive self awareness and shed many insecurities to truly feel days from the first bursts of warmth billowing out from the sun to the cool breeze of  a new moon.  Mostly I have found the elixir of life to be laughter, exposure to the outdoors, a positive self image, hard manual labor, and devouring delicious, homegrown foods.  Surely a lot of people could benefit from this combination of physical and mental treats, but there is one other component that has become very evident to me this past month which is ever so easy to take for granted, and that is Love.

Elliot and I got married on March 31st, 2012 and my goodness what a process that turned out to be.  Trying to get the farm where it needed to be in our growing season along side this Wedding planned right in the kisser of the annual Spring growing madness made for some very extensive work weeks.  It seemed like the intensity of having a homemade wedding with the expertise of some wonderful friends here on the Island and that of some of our most beloved traveling kindred spirits and family erupted in a rain storm that started about 2 hours before the actual ceremony and ended as my father and I stood, waiting to walk down the isle.  Most times there is nothing more calming to a farmer than a rain shower after a week of dry weather and surprisingly the rain did just that on our wedding day.  It was a wash of the anxiety, the chaos, the overwhelming thoughts of celebrating and solidifying a journey that we had already begun with the recognition of our friends, family, elders, and role models.  When I stood in front of the people who loved us enough to make the journey all the way to Riceboro, Georgia, looking into the eyes of the Love of my life, at the farm where I pour my heart and soul into the soil everyday, I felt so humbled.  It reminded me how small I am in comparison to all of the incomprehensible pieces at work in our physical and spiritual realities.  I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunity to Love this beautiful man for the rest of my life, receiving his Love in return, united in an effort to be good to all people in our path and to nurture the small corners of the planet we choose to inhabit.

Of course the Love felt on your wedding day is not at all limited to that which is shared between you and your new spouse.  Every person I interacted with during the entire process gave so much of themselves to help create this beautiful occasion.  Even during the times when the stresses of the components were at their most crippling, my heart was full to the brim with support, advice, and compassion from people who dotted timelines on every stage of my journey as a human being.  When a crowd is drawn together from the desire to celebrate the harmonizing of two hearts, it turns out to be quite the magical symphony of people indeed.


This one chaotic moment in time has had the added benefit of heightening my awareness of the Love shared, lost, savored, and denied throughout my day to day.  Love is no simple feeling and often comes with several ups and downs, none of which happening in any sort of predictable formation.  While it may very well be the most important function of our brains, it comes with a lot of costs and Love equates most easily to a struggling commitment over a chance happy ending of true bliss.  There are times when nothing in your life hurts more than your Love and times when other emotions such as resentment, fear, jealousy, and intolerance feel like a more appropriate fit. The true challenge in all of our lives here on Earth is letting Love prevail.  Not in some contrived sense, but in the sense that when you are able to Love others openly, your friends, family, partners, neighbors, those that have done you wrong, those that continue to do wrong, and most importantly, yourself, you will find an inner peace that cannot be achieved from any purchase, any achievement, or any social status.

To Love openly you must turn your judgements into curiosities.  You must find the inner strength to give value to yourself and your circumstances and to have the same compassion you have for others, for yourself.  It is a difficult task becoming so comfortable with who you are that you do not find the need to ridicule the physical and mental state of others.  While this is a life long journey for all of us, if we can attempt to approach more of our interactions, our communications, and internal thoughts with Love, there is a chance that humankind as a whole gets a little bit better.

One of the most special parts of the sustainable movement Elliot and I are a part of, in my opinion, is the sense of Love built upon this collection of fading traditional knowledge taken from our ancestors.  The willingness the youth of this generation has to work hard for very little reward beyond the fulfillment felt giving such incredible gifts to their communities is absolutely beautiful.  These ambassadors of sustainable farming and living are reminding all of us in this greater world the importance of putting Love into everything we do.  Love takes a lot of effort and the effort put into these old world trades reflects the Love and intention that is required to create such masterful pieces of art whether it be picked from the field, harvested from the woodlot, or crafted in the shop.  These individuals use Love to harness a work ethic required to mend cut corners and revitalized tortured landscapes.  All the while, all of this effort, this artistry, is shared willingly and joyfully with those who choose to be around it.  I'll take my Love where I can get it, and fortunately for me, my lifestyle rewards me with some of the most wholesome, abundant Love this world has to offer.  I just hope to meet it with an open heart and graceful, patient spirit.

Farming and the Ancient Spiritual Stirrings of Fear

We're nearing the end of January in the marsh and the warm, full days followed by the long, cool nights remind me of a Northern Spring.  Flocks of migrating waterfowl, including hooded mergansers, wood ducks, and grebes are collecting in the tidal canals.  The deciduous trees have dropped the last of their green and have further dramatized the elegant, spanish moss and stark, upright pines.  It is a beautiful, quieted version of the marsh, though not quite as quiet as the snow covered birches and quaking aspens I can just barely remember. The farm is probably the most alive looking place on the entire island.  Our vegetable beds shimmer and twist in the wind as the winter rye triumphantly heads for the heavens.  Patches of clover slither through the undergrowth and fill out from left to right like a delicate carpet of lace.  Rows of young onions and garlic, just as green, have ventured higher still with their long stalks thickening ever so slowly during these short, January days.  A few small rows of collards and scallions hang on for our own uses and a beautiful germination of baby spinach has popped up its first true leaves.  There are still a few lemons left to harvest and our strawberry plants are taunting us with their slow trot towards maturity.  We've cut the last of the sugar cane, put away about 250 lbs of storage roots, and the dead ferns of asparagus have been chopped and mulched to provide the young spears of 2012 with some added nutrients and protection.  The warm weather has ignited our ambitions and the greenhouse is already packed with the first favorites of Sping time crops.

I know this beautiful, mild weather should be enough to satisfy me in the present moment.  However, my racing human brain already has me fixating and fantasizing about the first squash harvest and first tomato sandwich.  I certainly remember the torture of the exotic heat and humidity of the deep South but I almost find myself longing for that as well.  I never considered myself one to desire pain and discomfort, but nostalgia has me remembering what it felt like to step out of the sun in the shade of the pines and catch a subtle, sea breeze.  The pleasures of working in the sun when it seemed so unbearable and taking the moonlit, sultry nights to enjoy the beauty lost to the heat of the day.  The wood storks, white ibis, spoonbills, many of the egrets and herons have left for their winter stomping grounds and the quieted version of the marsh has me feeling lonely.  The king fishers, bald eagles, and pileated woodpeckers should be enough to keep me full, but still I hunger for more.  I suppose cabin fever has a way of stretching its fingertips into more than just my cabin.  I suppose that maybe this year I will be even more Southern than last.

We awoke last night, several times, to the abrupt leaping of our canine companions to the windows and doors towards some outside disturbance.  Generally this involves a lethargic armadillo making its slow path around our cabin or a raccoon quickly ascending a tree.  Mostly we ignore them but do not always discourage their protective nature in the strange and random event that it could prevent us from harm.  Last night, it was a little bit different.  They jumped and snarled and ran about the house on the usual mission and then suddenly became nervous and quiet.  They came to our bedside and laid down, anxious.  Being only one tenth awake and nine tenths asleep, I rolled over and uttered something like, "Good Dog," or maybe "Finally."

My eyes were wide open seemingly before my brain had time to process the sound.  A pack of coyotes descended on the cabin with their haunting yips and yowls.  They were so close to the back of the cabin that we could hear the low, rumblings of their snarls and growls as they meandered through the forest floor.  A few would sound and silence and the loudest of the carols would quickly be replaced by heavy breathing and deep, throaty notes.  Elliot awoke in just about as much panic as I and we, all four, laid still, barely breathing, listening to the eerie sounds of the nocturnal predator.  I had no real cause for alarm, but the sound, the unpredictability of the noises, the thought that they could be stalking something with their excellent moonlit vision, it all wrapped me up in a tight bundle of nerves.  Their presence disappeared several moments after their last high pitch notes melted into the music of the night.

This certainly wasn't the first encounter we have had with coyotes.  I can remember on several occasions throughout our journey being stirred from rest by the shrill call of a pack of dogs tearing through the night.  One night when we were living in a Yurt in Northern Vermont we experienced a similar rude awakening by a fisher cat moaning in the moonlight.  All of these experiences, though we are completely out of harms way, leave us unsettled and shaken.  Our brain power has removed us from the circle of life by eliminating predation upon our species.  We've been cunning enough to eradicate the wolf, tame the bear, and make minute the threat of the wild cat and for that reason we have made more available to our own species all the resources our lands have to offer.  It is so earth shattering to us when someone is attacked by a wild animal or falls into the lion pit at the zoo.  The idea that an animal would take our lives, passionately, rocks us to the core.

But the species to species fight for survival is not an uncommon theme in the natural history of this watery paradise we inhabit.  Most creatures on this planet spend their days working towards furthering their species while narrowly evading their untimely demise at the jaws of a hungry creature.  There was even a time during our own evolutionary journey when this was a very big part of our own reality.  I recently watched the film, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, a documentary based on the Chauvet caves of Southern France where the oldest pictorial creations of human kind have been preserved in an air tight cavern cracked open by the modern human world.  Within this cave are the most intense and soul-stirring images of predators and prey extinct long ago.  During this time in the human form it appears that our spiritual connection to these creatures and the land were much stronger than that of today.  The everyday encounters with these incredible beasts exploded within the human species an artistic representation of their affect on the lives and minds of the early humans.  After seeing this film, I spent several days completely consumed by the images and implications of the film.  It is only until recently that I have been able to digest the images, the abyss of time, and the journey we have made as humans to what our realities reflect today.

It has always bothered me when humans have boasted their intelligence and ingenuity over that of other species.  While our expansive use of tools and problem solving has served us better than many wild adaptations found in other forms in nature, there has always been something so very respectful about the way animals interact with one another in an ecosystem.  Something about that connectedness, that reliability plants and animals have with one another, sometimes in very exclusive ways.  This always seems to me to be a much richer form of interaction over that of humans to say chickens in chicken houses or cows in the dairy houses of today.  There is also something so seemingly enlightened about the way an animal caught by a predator seems to accept death once its fate seems sealed.  All of these beautiful displays of symbiosis can easily be chalked up to being animal, nonthinking, and obviously not as strong as humans as we enter a bottleneck of species extinction unlike many before, but this one cave in the South of France gives me hope.

Why?  Because it shows that there was a time when human beings were more associated with this united energy.  There was a time when human beings had to fight for food or become food and what did they do?  They began to paint the animals around them.  They were in spiritual awe of the world they shared with the other great predators of their time.  They showed a complex understanding of the movement, physical traits, and emotional displays of the creatures they interacted with.  Maybe they didn't understand modern day economics, or how to start an assembly line, but their understanding of their surroundings seemed absolutely profound.  This brings me hope because I know that this unbelievable connection to the plants and animals around us could not be completely severed.  We carry many similar qualities to these early humans and we have the same opportunity to reconnect to the wilds of the Earth.

I'm not saying it is time to put on the loin cloth and set up shop in your neighborhood park.  I'm just saying that if these creatures, these predators and these prey species, were so important to the early humans that it was the first images they felt spiritually compelled to recreate; that maybe they are important.  Maybe the way that animals think and behave does not come simply from their inability to be like us, their inferiority.  Maybe if we payed more attention to the wild spaces of our planet we could learn a thing or two about being present, being patient, and treating each other with respect.  Maybe at night when we hear the coyotes yipping and dancing, that bone chilling feeling we have is the soul of the forest beating on our spiritual drum.  I say we dance to that drum beat and rethink our desire to excavate all open spaces for the singularly forward movement of our own species.  It starts with curiosity.  First we have to take an interest in these places, these creatures great and small.  We can only build compassion for them if we choose to understand them.  If we fail to find them important, their spirits will be forever caught in photographs and images like those painted on a wall in a cave in a forgotten dream.

"I Just Don't Have a Green Thumb."

Sun Dog Farm is living true to its name as the Sun has been out everyday for what feels like months.  We haven't had a decent rain and many of our Spring time crops are showing signs of stress.  We are fortunate to have a deep well that has given us hope and kept our plants alive through the arid 90 degree weather.  Our chickens have done well enough laying eggs everyday and our other livestock have made the best of it by staying under the shade of trees and in areas of cool, dense brush.  The Summer crops seem to grow a foot a day; Tomatoes already whispering words like trellising and blooms.  Our Eggplants look as if they are war veterans with Flea Beetle holes like gun wounds creating leaves of delicate lace. Timid Squash plants have nervously set their first fruits as their rivals, the Squash bugs, have begun to lay their eggs upon the Squash greens.  The battle for food in the summer heat has just begun and we can only be hopeful for a spell of rain and the balancing acts of Nature's grace.

All of this slaving away in the field during the immense heat and aridity has brought me to thinking about what it takes to grow food for yourself and others.  We've put in hours that far surpass the average 9-5 job and yet we awake in the early morning with smiles on our faces, a little bit of anxiety to keep the ambition alive, and the desire to do good work and heal people utilizing the natural world, everyday.  The concept of a "green thumb" is troubling to me.  I have spoken with several people recently about how they just "don't have a green thumb" and I can assure you that it has nothing to do with your thumb (besides the evolutionary advantage of having a thumb, that is.)  Having a "green thumb" is an oversimplified explanation for a connection to the natural systems of the planet.  By stating that you do not have a "green thumb" you are simply saying that you do not understand or are removed from what it takes to make a living organism thrive.  There are varying levels of difficulty when it comes to making plants and animals survive that have been domesticated by the human species.  While I do understand how our modern civilization has removed many of us from the ever important task of nurturing life, I do not take "I don't have a green thumb" as a reasonable excuse for being oblivious to the role that our natural world plays in our everyday survival.

First we must examine the plants and animals we eat.  These creatures have been bred to produce high levels of fats, sugars, starches, proteins, and other necessary nutrients we crave and grow on.  They have been manipulated by our hands and have grown to produce more of the beneficial structures we now rely on to gain weight, utilized energy, and reproduce.  This is somewhat of a double edged sword for both the human species and the animals themselves.  Our manipulation has assured their species survival, but it has also eliminated their instincts and other attributes that allow them to survive on their own.  That makes tomato plants, cows, chickens, watermelons, goats, lettuce, and other plants and animals very vulnerable to our abuse and misuse.  Having a family milking cow or a small grass based dairy is the most respectful example of the human to animal symbiotic relationship while the factory farm dairies in the United States and beyond are examples of how easily these relationships can lead to abuse and exploitation.

Second we must review our role as stewards of this planet.  It is not our fault or the fault of any other organism on Earth that we have evolved such that our frail bodies have been time and time again protected by the ingenuity of our brains, allowing us to reach such great numbers.  Having been placed in that position, it is our responsibility to regulate the actions of our culture and the needs of our societies.  We have created a reality so vast and consuming that many of us do not even recognize how the natural world plays a role in our everyday lives beyond the lifestyle Soap Operas we all operate in; human centric and based on the idea of commerce.  Having a "green thumb" is left to the hippies, the idealists, and the outdoorsmen (and women) who, for reasons beyond even their own comprehension, open up ornamental nurseries, hike the Appalachian Trail, plant school gardens, or start working for close to nothing raising food for themselves and their community.  I believe that the desire to grow is a part of our intuition, it is the realization that human beings were once delicately placed in the balance with all organisms working together, not  in competition, to share this place we call home.

The modern age of convenience has robbed many of us of the ability, the work ethic, and the passion to take care of ourselves using the most basic of human instincts.  We've taken the lessons you learned from your grandparents about cooking food and growing vegetables and handed you Poptarts and an Excell spreadsheet.  We've compartmentalized your day so that you value only parts of your life as yours and accept that much of your life belongs to others to fulfill endeavors that are not your own.  This has been normalized, advertised, and explained to anyone who will listen as being the "American Dream" that will lead you to happiness, peace and prosperity.  But what does this really lead us to?  It leads us to a hierarchy that ensures that the "Haves" will easily and efficiently keep control of the "Have Nots" while swiftly overusing and wasting our natural resources

So what do we do?  What can we do in a system that is so slated against those of us who have a dime in our pockets and a full time job meant to support ourselves and those that we care for?  We have to find it within us to explore the instincts hidden deep within our bodies and souls.  We must not accept that we just "don't have a green thumb" and become more in sync with the rhythm of life that surrounds us and keeps us afloat.  We must plant gardens and watch them fail season after season before our questions and prayers are answered and our first perfect Tomato is enjoyed, as is, with a touch of salt.  We must enroll our students in the school of Universal-Reality where they realize that even at their smallest size, their bodies and minds can affect the greatest change.  We must take this age of convenience and feel bored, mentally exhausted, and thirst for the satisfaction of a hard day's work that serves as the best weight control tool, making us look better, feel healthier, and all the while steering us away from having to wear spandex in a room full of other humans rhythmically lifting and tugging on weights made of synthetics.  Your body was meant to do things, it has evolved to be strong and accomplished, to be beautiful every day and it is a sad waste of your precious figure to be glued to a desk with a screen, a Snickers Bar, and a bad attitude.

Change is not easy or quick, but the most positive aspect of it, is that it is happening all of the time.  We are moving towards a sustainable future and so many of us understand the benefits that lie within ourselves and in the hidden geometry and complexity of nature and it is only a matter of time before real change can be seen within Atlanta and the United States as a whole.  The more Urban Gardens that fill vacant lawns and parking lots, the more farmers that fill the rural horizons of Georgia, the closer we come to embracing our "green thumbs," our instincts, and our natural ability to nurture and take care of our resources and each other.  All is not lost and we are very close to a future that may allow us to leave this landscape in better shape than we found it for the children we raise and the lives they will one day lead without our guidance.  It is time to take value from the dollar bill, the clothing store, and the appliance outlet,  and apply it to the green things in our lives that are at risk of disappearing all together.  It is time to take this movement from a trend and turn it into a real way of living life.  It is time to support all farmers and growers who respect your health and the health of their land, everywhere.  You and I both may have little money, but we are powerful.  We have the perfect set of thumbs for the job and we can make change.  If we work together and recognize the biological world as kin, we can make things in our hearts, our forests, and in our gardens, grow as one.

Join Us at the Farm to Table!

Every night I close my eyes and dream.  I dream of events from the day carelessly mixed with memories and elaborate confusions.  Every night time is spent lost in my mind where all of my worries, excitements, insecurities, anxieties, and fantasies go to tea together.  The only thing consistent about them, or the passing of them, is that when I wake in the morning, Sun Dog Farm is one day closer to Spring.

Being one day closer to Spring, everyday, is a little intimidating and mostly exciting all at the same time.  Our greenhouse has finally been dressed and newly sown seeds are pulsing with life in seedling trays, gently moving upward towards the nourishing rays of the sun.  The smell of soil, humidity, and a sharpie always cause us to reminisce of every Spring we've spent organizing energy and nurturing these tiny, miraculous life forms.  Some seeds are so similar and yet as they grow the diversity of their genetics turns the greenhouse into a miniature rain forest of so many different leaves and stems.  The tags denoting their varieties emerge from the greenery like poems, "Vulcan, Early Jersey Wakefield, Champion, Giant of Italy, Henderson's Charleston, Vates, Dinosaur, Skyphos, Black Seeded Simpson, De Cicco," and on and on and oh, it is just the beginning.

As I sip my tea, scratch my head, and type, I can hear rain falling with some urgency outside.  Rain has been a common companion here at the farm as of late and we can't say that we're too distraught about it.  The risen water table will hopefully contribute to a nice, lush Spring and help give our vegetables the life giving water they need to carry on into the hot, unforgivable days of Summer.  It has been; however, too wet to wander out into our growing space and begin sculpting the landscape into segments and rows in preparation for transplants and seeds.  Organization has been key in this newest operation of ours and Elliot and I have spent our fair share sitting in front of Microsoft Excell trying to figure out how we had deleted an entire column of crops or why half of the spreadsheet had become bold.  It is all a part of the process, every bit, and there is nothing more empowering than making something from scratch.

To be empowered.  My daily commutes to and from the City of Atlanta for my off season job have given me a unique perspective on modern human development.  I drive from way out of town, in the boonies where Sun Dog Farm makes its home.  I drive over landscape that quickly transforms from rolling hills and clusters of forest still hanging on into the strip malls and fast food chains that spill over the edge of Atlanta as its population over boils.  I get closer still to the perimeter and more lanes are added to the road, more elaborate concrete has been poured for on and off ramps, overpasses, and a sturdy median.  As I breach the perimeter I am finally at the belly, Downtown where the money is, or in a lot of cases was, and the flannel shirts and baseball caps quickly mutate into flashy suits, designer glasses, and a sales pitch.  It would all be too much for me (I would be thrilled to never look at a billboard again,) except that I get to do it all in reverse on my trip home.

And what of this city life?  I have never done well in a city setting; the weight of human reality always in my eyes and ears sends me into some serious fits of zombie.  Everywhere you look, there is something to be sold or bought, a mostly naked woman here, a familiar celebrity posing with their favorite milk shake there, the most crude and hollow examples of our civilization on display guiding us and our youth further down the road.  It is complicated and complex, constantly changing, yet so much remaining dangerously the same.  Atlanta is just a city like others, facing the same problems, overcoming similar obstacles, but there is this one thing that keeps bringing me back.  It would be easy for me to write off the entire city of Atlanta, except for one thing: Food.

Food has always been the great peace maker in my life. Now the uniting forces of food are swiftly taking over small sections of the city where empowered and beautiful minds gather to go outside of the boundaries of modern culture and economy and stretch the limits of a "normal" city life. Rashid Nuri at Truly Living Well Urban Natural Farm, Joe Reynolds at Love is Love Farm at Gaia Gardens, Oakhurst Community Garden Project, Dunwoody Community Garden, and the increasing numbers of Farmers Markets and other growing spaces around the city are contributing greatly to awareness and the access of those in the city to healthy, sustainable food. I urge you to run to these places immediately and get involved!  Restaurants have also become savvy to the desire of their customers for thoughtful food and the importance of supporting those who grow it. Some of our favorite and, in our opinion, most influential Chefs in the food movement include; Steven Satterfield of Miller Union, Joshua Hopkins of Abbitoir, Todd Mussman of Muss and Turner's, Kevin Ouzts of Spotted Trotter, Thomas McKeown of the Grand Hyatt, and arguably the most revolutionary of the bunch, Chef Linton and Gina Hopkins of Restaurant Eugene, Holeman and Finch, H&F Bread Co, and H&F Bottle Shop. These individuals have spent their lives sculpting not only incredible foods, but incredible food pathways. As a food conscious human of Atlanta, I urge you to put down the taco bell, save up your pennies, and support these businesses because they have made it their business to support people like us.

"The greatest delight the fields and woods minister is the suggestion of an occult relation between man and the vegetable.  I am not alone and unacknowledged.  They nod to me and I to them." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

We're all in 2011 Together

World!  It is 2011!  It is 2011 and there is so much to do, so much good to replace bad, so much healing of humans, wildlife, ecosystems, and communities.  There is an ever evolving list of things to become more conscious of as we move into a future less connected to the land.  It is 2011 and we are losing important habitats all over the world at an alarming rate, changing the world in ways we don't even realize will eventually change us.  We are relying more and more on technological advances in medicine to keep up with our unhealthy lifestyles.  We are less attuned to the natural forces of our planet and more of our time is spent inside focusing on realities that are entirely human inventions.  The distractions of this modern age of people do well enough keeping our brains constantly stimulated, always something to worry about, always some way to progress, reach success.  It gives us very little opportunity to search within ourselves for what truly brings us peace.  When the forces of our economy and practices of waste are added up, it seems like a desperate time, but this is the year.  This is the year to start over, to rethink the ideas sprouting from "how" and start asking ourselves "why?"

This year, the first official year of Sun Dog Farm, will be one of great hardship and tiny battles won.  With every person who grabs a CSA share or purchases Kohlrabi at the Farmers Market, a person, a couple, an entire family may be fed clean food whose roots dug deep into a landscape nurtured and replenished.  The hearts and minds of our nation are currently being redesigned as more individuals are becoming aware of our devastating food system.  More people want to feed their children the best of what's around.  More people bring their own bags to the supermarket or even teach themselves the skills to avoid utilizing the supermarket or drug store.  The year 2011 should be embraced by all as the year to reclaim our world from the clutches of wasteful consumerism, malicious advertising, and fear mongering and start moving into an age of self reliance, community, and grace.

All of this change requires an immense amount of patience.  Humans beings do not purposely cause harm to each other and their world around them, for the most part.  Much of the change we have to muster within ourselves needs to be spread to others through vigorous education and empowerment.  We are only as strong as our weakest links and we must do our part in picking up those who have fallen into despair due to the excess of others.  This is made ever more complicated with the value system put in place by the highest rungs of the economic food chain.  We need to take the time to educate individuals (without expecting an economic return) as to what is really important and necessary in a lifetime and guide all of us toward a more simple, responsible lifestyle.  It won't be easy or fun and there will be failure  and an awful lot of resistance along the way, but it will be the sort of challenge whose rewards are so sweet, they will slowly enrich the quality of all life on Planet Earth.

As for Sun Dog Farm, 2011 has already held several wins and losses.  The epic ice storm that closed down the City of Atlanta for a week locked us within our little homestead on the farm and made for some pretty mentally exhausting planning and plotting.  All the time spent nestled in the belly of our property gave us the opportunity to continue to explore our own self sufficiency and the weaknesses we feel we have as stewards of this landscape.  Big plans hatched, re-hatched, erased, and blossomed into ideas that will either lead us to victory or teach us some serious lessons.  The snow and ice keeping us from straying too far out of our county gave us the time to enjoy and learn from those in our wonderful community.  The ice has prevented us from planting onions, turned our goats and sheep into ice skaters, and caused our chickens to eat some serious feed.  Our lack of current income made it impossible for us to cover our greenhouse with plastic just before the ice hit, saving us from having to manage or replace plastic during the storm.  I don't know that there is a real balance to it all, but there certainly is an enchanting rhythm to aligning your life with that of the natural world.

Times have been pretty tough at the farm as our anxiousness for spring grows and our vegetable plot gently hibernates.  Driving home from Tagyerit Farm, owned and operated by the wonderful Michael and Mary Elizabeth Shoptaw (and their adorable son,) I distinctly remember feeling that inner peace that we all seem to be endlessly searching for.  Something about being around so many good people who love all life on Earth and have made it their personal goal to defend and support it connects all the dots in my soul.  The sun was setting over the white glazed pastures, brilliant pink reflecting from horizon to footstep.  I remember squeezing Elliot's hand and recalling the amazing number of Meadowlarks I had seen earlier in the day.  It's not perfect this life of ours, but my goodness is it beautiful.

"I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe." - His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Christmas Outside the Box

It’s that time of year again!  If you haven’t already heard your favorite Christmas song to the point of disgust then you clearly haven’t made yourself available to the Christmas Spirit!  It’s on the radio, lighting up in the trees, the clearance racks, and ribbons and pine can be found scattered all about homes and shopping centers.  The smell of cinnamon, holiday flavored lattes, evergreens, and credit card machines has everyone drooling.  We don’t have a TV, but I can just imagine the seductive commercials of kitchen gadgets, toys, flat screens, fashion gear, plastics and more all at the right price.  It is the Holiday of Consumption and my goodness is it in full swing!

Now please, don’t get me wrong.  I appreciate little more than a clever gift, well thought out and useful (or beautifully crafted.)  Christmas may be the only time that Elliot and I get items we are too self righteous to buy for ourselves.  It’s just the magnitude of the whole affair.  So much waste and consumption of resources is designated to this holiday that supposedly (having a few different origins) celebrated life and goodwill towards men (and my god, women too), none of which having much to do with spending as much money as you can on cheaply made products not meant to withstand the test of time.  I am certainly no authority on religion or the practices therein, but I do notice how convenient it must be to go from celebrating a uniting spirit and giving to those in need to celebrating a fat man in a red suit who is willing to give you anything and everything you want, all at once.  Have yourself a merry little indulgence!

I’m not pointing fingers here, it is very satisfying seeing someone’s face (especially children) light up over a gift.  This holiday ritual has also been going on for a very long time.  But what does Christmas really mean to us?  The reason so many of us are drawn to purchasing gifts, and wrapping paper, ribbons and tape is because of the love we share for those near and dear.  The obvious rush of adrenaline that takes over the minds and intentions of people Christmas shopping is a clear sign that our industrialized society has a significant hold on us.  As long as the fat cats who’ve manipulated our resources for the best quality of life money can afford them can rely on targeting our citizens through flashy advertising and ritzy products, they will do so.  They will do so at the expense of human beings, the environment, and those trying to enforce strict codes of conduct for the safety of our Nation’s people.  Now if there is any pattern worth obscuring with love, it’s this one!

I’m not saying if your mom buys you a car for Christmas you should give her a crappy Christmas card you made out of bark and sap, either.  I’m not saying you should do away with Christmas gifts and give your expectant children hugs and haikus when they come down to an empty tree.  I’m just encouraging all to ponder the idea of “Less.”  Try to buy less products so that you can spend more of your money on higher quality items made to last.  Try to buy products that have traveled less of a distance to reach your Christmas Tree.  Try to buy less paper and plastic to adorn your packages and household while thinking of creative ways to recycle materials or try and make your decorations yourself.  Select a Christmas tree from a farm whose practices involve less of an impact on the surrounding landscape.

The ultimate less is trying to come up with Christmas presents that are handmade by you!  Just because the elves working hard in Santa’s workshop at Nike can churn out a product that seems inconceivable to design does not mean that you with your normal human hands have to make poorly put together handmade goods.  There are several incredible things you can make with your own two hands that are beautiful and desirable.  There are many ancient skills lost to the everyday American who has grown up in the age of convenience.  If you need help coming up with some ideas, send me an email..  I have loads.  My family will undergo the joys of Darby and Elliot creations whether they are ready for them or not!

But really.  Beyond the spending, the less, the more, the here, or the there, Christmas is about celebrating the people in your life that keep your heart warm through the chilly winter.  It’s about giving back to those who have given so much to you.  It is a Holiday that exists only in your heart and it can mean as much or as little to you as you choose.  No matter what you get or give, I hope that you embrace those crazy people in your family and show them how they’ve all helped see you through to Christmas Day.

“Good workmanship-that is, careful, considerate, and loving work-requires us to think considerately of the whole process, natural and cultural, involved in the making of wooden artifacts, because the good worker does not share the industrial contempt for “raw material.”  The good worker loves the board before it becomes a table, loves the tree before it yields the board, loves the forest before it gives up the tree.  The good worker understands that a badly made artifact is both an insult to its user and a danger to its source.” --Wendell Berry

The Holidays Taste Familiar

Something about the softness of a cloudy day stirred up with the spontaneous fires and sparks of changing leaves always steers my dreaming towards childhood memories and family gatherings.  Maybe it is the chill of the weather that brings us together over food and libations, sharing our mysteries and retelling the oldies but goodies.  I anxiously await a table full of handcrafted creations, shared and passed by many hands before it is plopped down in front of me, steaming and smelling of traditions kept.

As my emotions orbit the upcoming holiday festivities of Thanksgiving and Christmas, the farm continues to get ready for the cool down.  Our crops in Douglasville are starting to slow as our cover crop in Buckhead is starting to grow.  Rows have been skillfully tilled and shoveled into perfectly straight lines by Elliot and garlic will soon make its  home in the soft, fluffy soil.  The beds will be mulched with hay and (fingers crossed) there will be garlic to harvest following winter as the world begins to warm.  The animals are all putting on their winter coats and fences are being mended to welcome their arrival onto our new land.  The blissful act of chopping wood accompanied by the meticulous building of fires in our fireplace have taken the edge off the slowly cooling weather.  Clouds of blackbirds have been dancing for us over the open fields mimicking the bee swarms of the summer.  Their cackling and conversations fill the air as they land in the treeline of our home.  Our homestead continuously smells of hardy meals of greens and roots devoured quickly in hopes of staying warm through the night.

Much of my time during this activity lull is spent spinning the pounds of wool collected from this year's fleece harvest.  There is nothing more meditative to me than sitting on the back porch in the golden hue of fall with wool running through my fingers.  Elliot and I have a lot of planning to do with both our plants and animals in the spring.  We will be elbows deep in more wool, goat's milk, lambs and kids, chickens, vegetables, and hopefully two piglets for the chest freezer.  We are currently crafting a plan to can all the vegetables we will need for next winter throughout next year's growing season.  We are still working through the kinks of our CSA as members are beginning to show interest in signing up.  There is still more advertising to do and more families to add to the list of families we hope to provide wonderful food for.  So much to do, such a short window of opportunity, and all I can do is hurry up and wait!

These cool weather days spent indoors are often accompanied by smothering ponderings both positive and negative.  Lately I have been so lost in thoughts that it feels like the "real" world is spinning by without me.  There is always so much to consider when trying to process the endless list of problems human beings face on this planet and within our own society.  Often, these thoughts lead me in a very hopeless direction as the negatives collect and churn into a bad attitude.  In all of this hopelessness, I have found sanctuary in the spirit of children.  One will recognize quickly after spending time with a child that evil, hatred, greed, and intolerance are not embedded into the DNA of human beings born.  All attributes of humanity are learned and just as easily learned are the guiding forces of compassion, a love for the natural world, and the desire to love and nurture other human beings.  This desire to only do good is easily complicated by the demands of a modern world and I would encourage all to embrace the child like desire to love and do good work throughout our day to day.

“Those who dwell among the beauties and mysteries of the earth are never alone or weary of life.” - Rachel Carson

Building My Nest

This sleepy, rainy weather is such a stark contrast to the drought conditions we've experienced over the past few months. We were beginning to watch our fields crack; lines of separation sprawling from one bed to another as our plants wilted and struggled to grow. All of our gardens were beginning to look like mini deserts with backdrops of trees losing their leaves early under the stresses of aridity. Our harvests for market were slowly shrinking and we were beginning to worry that the fall growing season of gorgeous greens, roots, and spicy flavors was going to give way and slowly wither from frenzied thirst. Desperate times call for desperate measures and for many days Elliot and I could be found out in the field carrying buckets and watering cans all over the farm in hopes of quenching the roots and leaves of our most delicate plants and germinating seeds. Fortunately, just in time, rain has finally come. I remember waking in the middle of the night to the first pitters and patters of life giving water on our roof and feeling a deep sense of relief and appreciation. October has proven to be a very busy month for the two of us. Elliot has spent hours on the tractor in Buckhead, Georgia at our new farm getting the growing space ready for a winter cover crop. After several different tractor implements tore through the thick, healthy sod of the pasture, it was finally time for a fresh, leveling till that would allow our cover crop seeds the proper growing medium. Following a full Sunday of tilling and homemaking, we walked the two acres in lines with seed buckets strapped to our bodies until the sun had completely descended below the horizon. I was tired and sore, feeling the weeks in a row we've gone without a single day of rest, but I found myself at peace. Bats left their perches inside tree bark and took over the evening sky, the cows in the neighboring pasture gently hummed and settled into their sleepy groups, Bell, becoming somewhat nervous of the falling sun, attached herself to my side and did her best to keep up as we quickly walked the field.

Our transition to the new property is nearly real as we intend to move the limited furniture we have and our chickens from the camper in Douglasville to our house in Morgan County next week. With the little that we own, it will likely feel as though we are camping inside the large, spacious house. Like a broody hen I have developed nesting fever, endlessly pondering the placement of items utilitarian and decorative. At our usual stops in hardware stores I find myself looking at lamps and light fixtures and considering the ambiance each would add to particular rooms or how they would look against the somewhat outdated textures and color schemes of the house. Most of these thoughts are just dreamings as Elliot and I have no intention of buying anything new and our home will be made of recycled goods of all kinds donated or discovered and acquired very slowly.

As the cooler weather sweeps into our lives we realize that like most things in nature, it is time to slow down. With no fields of vegetables to tend to this winter, our energy will be spent planning out our growing space, fixing up our home, planning out the lambing and kidding season, spinning wool, writing, reading, collecting CSA members, meditating, and reviving our bodies and minds with plentiful rest. This work we do to the point of exhaustion comes with no economic gain and many capitalist headaches, but the lifestyle we live and the community we contribute to everyday is invaluable.  With every step taken towards our own self sufficiency, I know that I am learning from experience and rattling ancient wisdom from the soil with my own two hands.

"The problem is that man's conquest of the world has itself devastated the world. And in spite of all the mastery we've attained, we don't have enough mastery to stop devastating the world--or to repair the devastation we've already wrought. We've poured our poisons into the world as though it were a bottomless pit--and we go on gobbling them up. It's hard to imaging how the world could survive another century of this abuse, but nobody's really doing anything about it. It's a problem our children will have to solve, or their children." - Daniel Quinn

It's Time to Change

I have begun a journey and I need your help. Yesterday I went to the Field of Greens Festival and celebrated life and food with all my favorite friends, chefs, farmers, and met so many new, incredible human beings.  I ate incredibly well, drank incredible brews made by the masterful, Mike Lorey from his Folsy Brews Collection, and laughed so hard and so often that today my face is sore.  It is absolutely wonderful being surrounded by individuals who are empowered to care about good food grown and cooked the right way.  I felt so much love as I drifted from one conversation to the next that when it was time to leave I could feel my spirit trying to cling to the left over feelings of peace.  I had some trouble sleeping last night (likely due to the quantity of brews I was given) and it left my mind to wanderings of why it all felt so good.  After hours of thinking and laying in the darkness, listening to the gentle hum of the bustling city outside, I decided it was time to start my journey.

My journey is not a physical one; it is not a journey with a clear, finite destination.  My journey is a spiritual one where I will attempt to become a more positive being.  I have been doing some reading lately that has influenced me to truly believe in the power of positive energy and the betterment of the world through the betterment of ones self.  The Field of Greens Festival was pure positivity from every source and it only leaves you to wonder why human beings can be so destructive to one another where there is the opportunity to be so good.  Food and beer definitely help, but honestly I believe more days can be spent with a smile on our faces and a helping hand extended to those who need it.  Being a very sarcastic human being is part of my charm (yes, I said charm) but I know that my sarcasm consistently borders on cynicism.  This fall, next year, this life I am going to attempt to go through a huge attitude shift.

This is not an easy thing for me to do, as Elliot has noted I am somewhat of a "Hater."  Not that I actually hate things, just that it is part of me to poke fun at the silly mishaps and shortcomings of life and the pursuits therein.  I think that a little bit of that goes a long way and too much of it can definitely lead to a bad attitude problem, which is where I believe I find myself sometimes.  I can be harsh, unforgiving, and I can feel hopeless and helpless in situations where there is so much that can be done.  With this journey I want to latch onto the positive forces in my life and make a change for myself and the world that surrounds me.  I want to approach every situation with an honest heart and always try to be understanding before I am critical.  Love will be my motivation and I hope to give it to those whom I am fortunate enough to cross paths with in this life of mine.

This is where I need your help.  Being a cranky Yankee makes this a very hard and nearly impossible feat.  I will need a lot of positivity in my world to be able to map out the personality changes I am hoping to go through.  I need to be taught good forms of meditation and or ways to naturally, holistically curb stress.  I would also appreciate book recommendations which are always useful when trying to create a new reality for yourself.  I want to purify my diet, once again, and will need help fighting the urges to consume the occasional sugary delight or savory snack.  Mostly though, I hope that many of you will consider taking this journey with me.  Positivity is another part of our lives where a little goes a long way.  Maybe the next time some Atlanta driver cuts you off on I-285 instead of flicking them off you hope for their safety and think about how you could become a more careful, conscious driver.  The next time you're at your favorite dining spot and your waitress is rude, you meet her with an equal amount of love in hopes that she will feel better and her service will improve for others.  Or you can just have fun by telling me to put down the hamburger I am about to stuff in my face.

I know that my move back out of the city and onto the new farm in November will drastically help my pursuits towards peace.  Elliot and I will be spending the day today preparing our acre garden plot at Sun Dog Farm in hopes of throwing out some cover crop seed this week.  The farming community of Buckhead, Georgia is full of love and only part of the wonderful collection of people I get to interact with everyday within this food movement.  I am lucky that I have them on my side, a beautiful plot of land to farm and live, wonderful plants and animals to raise and eat, and a beautiful, passionate human being to share it all with.  There is so much good in this world that there is no room for a bad attitude, anyway.  Let's change the social climate of our world this week and be good to one another.

Sun Dog Farm is Finally Home

It seems like just yesterday Elliot and I were landless Farmers searching for a place to call home, traveling across small towns, over mountain passes, and in abandoned lots lost to economic progression and modern industry. It seems like just yesterday because, in fact, it pretty much was. Finally, Sun Dog Farm has settled on a settling spot and it couldn't have happened at a better time. Acquiring land for the purpose of small, diversified farming isn't easy, especially for young people who have a limited credit history and ideas a little outside of the box. We've littered the Georgia countryside with our presence and just as being hopeful was beginning to hurt, a modest home with eleven acres of pasture, growing space, a pond, and woods marched right into our hearts.

This was not our own discovery and we owe it all to the incredible community of fellow farmers who have done so much to help us push forward with our endeavors.  Tate Tewksbury of Tewksbury Farms (Good Groceries) added us to his extensive list of good deeds and shortly after discussing our dilemmas with him, he came up with the perfect property right down the road.  The property itself is something magical with so many opportunities hidden here and there, untouched and yet to be discovered.  The fact that we will be right down the road from fellow farmers with big hearts and lots of experience is just icing on the cake.  There is nothing that makes working the land feel more important than a group of supportive people who sweat through the hottest months alongside you to give to a community something it doesn't know it needs, but desperately does.

Given the pervasiveness of our Media and Advertising, it can be somewhat thankless work producing food for people who only see the value of items based on their price tags.  We've coached our society to rely on the economy to make decisions for us, even trusting companies to look after our physical well being and they have pleased us with mass produced items at a fraction of the cost.  The immediate pay off of this phenomenon has felt very good, but we are finding more and more the ultimate dangers of over-efficiency and the limited spending we've done on food.  It is impossible for a small farm utilizing good land stewardship and animal husbandry to compete with the international selection of cheaply grown produce at the grocery store.  Even worse still, we've filled our grocery stores with boxes, jars, and jugs of tasty, food-like substances that not only provide limited nutritional benefit, but even harm those who consume them.  So what makes it worth it?  How can those who have reclaimed control of their food choices push forward in a world of over indulgence?  For Elliot and I, farming is not a strategy constructed simply for economic gain, it is everything, it is our lifestyle.

This new stretch of landscape located in the heart of Morgan County is our newest reinvention and one step closer to self sufficiency and the shared benefits of growing real food.  While we have come across our fair share of misinformed, uninformed, and uninterested customers, it is always uplifting to share the fruit of our labors with those who truly know and or are excited about learning how to support food that matters.  This new property comes with its own hurtles to jump such as fencing that needs mending, an empty house that needs filled with grown up furniture, rent to be paid monthly, a barn structure to be built, a pond covered in algae due to a nitrogen imbalance, and establishing something that does not yet exist; yet when I stroll across the fields or sit on the dock, my heart feels full.  It is easy to get caught up in the frustrations and questions of the economic balance of your own "business", but feeling empowered and taking care of yourself, your family, and your community with your own two hands makes all of those concerns seem so unimportant.

So here we are, back at the beginning all over again.  A new terrain to map out, new wildlife neighbors to enjoy and support, and an ever growing list of projects to start.  We're exhausted but feeling the best we've felt in weeks.  We're thankful for the customers who buy from us every week even during this time of economic uncertainty.  Our CSA program is going through the construction phases and we should be advertising options soon for the Spring growing season.  Now that Sun Dog Farm has a beautiful place to call home this fall, our hearts are at peace and our minds are free to explore.  We may never actually grow up, but we will continue to grow in love and in soil.

I Eat Things that Eat Healthy

It's the first of September and I have officially lived in Georgia for a year!  I survived the face melting heat with limited permanent damage.  I have successfully picked up some useful Southern slang, such as "Y'all",  "I'm fixin' to" and "Let's have a mess of greens!"  I can't put a number on the amount of times those sayings have gotten me through the thick of it.  I have met some amazing individuals who have already enriched my life so much and continue to inspire me everyday.  I've adopted a strong passion for eating Okra and Field Peas, I have become more social (sort of?), I do not buy beer on Sundays, and I even find myself being overly polite to strangers (who knew!)  I think I'm starting to fit in with the local crowd..

Let's not kid ourselves too much here.  I'm still a cantankerous Yankee with a bad attitude and no amount of Southern Hospitality can fix what cold weather and broody intellectuals have instilled in me from birth.  Let's just say the sunny, sweaty South has certainly taken the edge off!  Besides, how could anyone disagree with the beautiful, everlasting fall that is about to be upon us?  The 60 degree mornings mixed with the 70 to 80 degree, breezy afternoons are enough to make me fall in love all over again.

Fall finds the farm in a flurry of activity as we seed, transplant, and hoe our way into Autumn Crops.  Our animals are starting to get itchy feet as the breeding season is soon approaching.  Our youngest chickens are exploring their maternal selves and practicing nesting whilst our eldest chickens prepare for a good molt.  The sunshine is still abundant and our Okra, Eggplants, Peppers, and a few other summer delights hang on for the long haul.  Our root vegetables recently seeded are coming up furiously, so much so that we will likely have turnip greens at our Peachtree Road Farmers Market on Saturday morning!  Fall brings a whole different life to the Southern Landscape.  The world seems to go from being tall, colorful, and exotic back to green, lush, and dense.  While I will miss Tomatoes, Peppers and Beans, I have to say it feels good to see carrot tops and beet leaves back in the garden.  It also feels good to have a boatload of dried chilies from the garden to decorate our up and coming collard greens.

I encourage everyone to continue their gardening and farmers market shopping through the Autumn as the Georgia climate provides happily for a Fall Harvest.  I cannot stress enough the importance of eating a local, organic, "whole food" diet.  I am not speaking about the grocery store here, I'm talking raw fruits, vegetables and herbs that you cook up fresh, just harvested and full of nutrients.  Elliot and I have been attempting to eat less meat, but with the availability of good, local meat to us, it is very difficult.  Meat is an excellent source of protein and fat soluble vitamins, but too much is no good for your belly and no good for the planet.  I've been hearing a lot of people expressing concern of the fat and cholesterol content of meat and eggs and want to remind y'all that there are good and bad kinds of fat.  Generally the fat from an animal that has been corn fed and purposely, quickly fattened or forced into unhealthy egg production contains the bad cholesterol that can make you unhealthy.  Animals that have had access to pastures or other natural forages and live a more natural, happy life have fat that contains good cholesterol, and all the fat soluble nutrients they ate from the fresh greens and browse.  It is all very simple if you consider it.  If something is unhealthy, and you eat it, you will get limited benefit from it.  We're finding more and more that it can even make you sick.

Want to be safe from unhealthy, industrial foods?  Good meat and eggs from pastured animals in moderation, fresh whole foods everyday, and some physical activity will change your life.  There are so many different diets out there that are supposed to cure all ailments and so many new "must have" super foods that trying to be healthy can be somewhat confusing.  Anything that advertises the added health benefits on its box is generally compensating for something.  Plus, it's in a box!  This fall I challenge all of you to stomp over to a Farmers Market and pick up something you don't know how to cook.  Flutter through a cookbook and choose your own adventure!  Give your kids the best back to school present you can muster, Mustards!  Or Kale!  Nothing helps a growing mind and spirit like a home cooked meal, tasting of love and earth.

Dancing to my Existential Funk

"It's been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon.." as Garrison Keillor always put it. Nothing socially monumental occurring, no world mysteries uncovered, just the everyday ups and downs typically muted by the evening news or the latest CNN Broadcast. The passing of the first Canada Geese, the hovering humming birds telling secrets to the chickens, the slow turning over of a bed, a squash beetle on your pant leg, a stubbed toe, the evening whiiiiirrrring of American Toads, and a sudden rain storm that encourages all of us to slow down.

We've begun our gentle transition from summer crops to fall crops as cooler nights bring the promise of cooler tomorrows. Stands of beets, carrots, radishes, arugula, and turnips are establishing themselves in different fields as our collards, kale, fennel, lettuce, and others emerge from their sleepy resting places in seed trays. The early heat, humidity, and insect problems of the summer made life for our tomato plants tiring and they have finally been put to rest. While it is sad to say goodbye to our tomatoes until next year, it is cleansing clearing a field for rotation and a reminder that farming functions on steady, deliberate change.

We suffered some chicken losses at the tiny, clever hands of a hungry raccoon this week. The tracks and manipulated wire gave it away immediately and Elliot went to work everything-proofing the chicken tractors. Now the tractors stand tall and true in the field, impenetrable fortresses. I think the only thing these beautiful creations lack are tiny moats and hidden snares. We've also begun the delicate process of compiling different age group chickens together in the same tractors. Chickens are highly territorial, or more so hierarchical and do not accept new faces very gracefully. One old farm trick is to place new chickens into the coop in the middle of the night when the flock is asleep. You simply knock a few chickens off the roosting pole and place the new chickens where the others had been. They will sleep in that same spot all night and everyone will wake up and not be completely aware that the new chickens hadn't been there for as long as they can remember. So far, so good.

Our evenings have been spent dozing to the spirited philosophies of one of our favorite writers, Wendell Berry. Often Elliot and I read beautiful words aloud from our favorite books as we drift into dreamy, moonlit nights. This week has brought about a reoccurring existential funk that comes and goes in both of us, something that probably never goes away but gets buried under the other worries and excitements of our day to day. What is this life all about?  Why do humans manipulate resources without thought to consequence?  If there is nothing that can change a world so full of capitalist idealism besides disaster, what is the point in paying any attention at all?

We were fortunate enough to read Preserving Wildness the other night, a piece elaborating on what Wendell Berry describes as the "Human Predicament."  If you haven't read any Wendell Berry, I demand that you do (for your own sake.)  If you have not read this particular piece, it must be done.  In this piece Wendell Berry examines human beings within the two forms they occupy, as being a part of nature and as being separate.  It would be wrong of me to try and explain what he has already stated so elegantly, but I leave you with this quotation in hopes that you will scurry over to your nearest book purveyor and find this life altering piece of art.

"We need wilderness of all kinds,
large and small, public and private
We need to go now and again
into places where our work is
disallowed, where our hopes and
plans have no standing.
We need to come into the presence of the
unequal and mysterious formality of Creation."
--Wendell Berry

It's too Hot for Hair

With a heat index of 103 degrees, today is a hot one!  In fact, this entire week has felt like someone has been holding a magnifying glass between us and the sun.  Curiously, I seem to be surviving the heat and even starting to feel a little bit chilled at night when the temperature dips into the 70's.  Oh how one can adapt!  Luckily for me, I don't wear a wool sweater all day, like my poor sheep, and I can find reasons to dodge into an air conditioned building now and again.  Elliot has also done a nice shear job on my own head upon my decision that the South is too hot for hair.  Our new sheep arrived from their home in suburban Mableton County, Georgia this past Sunday.  They were picked up from a backyard farm and they were in pretty rough shape.  They hadn't been sheared in the Spring and were so over heated that they weren't eating much.  Their owner had to pack up her bags and country living lifestyle and move back into the hustle and bustle of the city.

We loaded them into the back of my chevy and carefully carted them to their new home.  Each of the sheep has a very distinctive look and the presence of genetic diversity is very high.  Just being a Hertiage Breed animal, Jacob Sheep tend to be excellent foragers, mothers, and have proven to be hardy as hell.  Their products (milk, meat, wool, etc.) have not been mass produced and therefore their breed has maintained good genetic integrity with limited inbreeding.  Bo, the eldest wether, has two very large horns and a stark black face with eyes that show like stars.  Ned is a much smaller wether and has two smaller horns with a beautiful, cloud like fleece.  Lark, the one year old ewe has four horns, two that go out to the sides of her face and two on the crown of her head that point straight up.  She has beautiful, delicate features and quite a presence in the flock.  Zelda, the eldest sheep of all, has a huge Great Dane like face with five horns.  They curl in all directions, with the two on the top of her head curling down like insect antennae.

They were introduced into the mix-bag of sheep and goats at the farm and a few territorial confrontations broke out, but generally everyone stayed cool.  Valiant, our ram, made sure that both wethers knew who was boss and our ewes, being half the size of the new females, became very submissive to their new roommates.  The goats scarcely paid any attention to the new sheep and were too busy trying to figure out how to get us to give them something to eat.  Poor Giles, our little, awkward billy goat, is still trying to bridge the gap between sheep and goats and make a real connection to his wooly roommates.  Unfortunately we would rule him mostly unsuccessful.  They will be sheared tonight with hand shears, the old fashioned way, and their wool will go through the laborious processes of picking and cleaning.  Once we've gone over the fleece enough times and found the weak spots, I will get busy spinning.

The farm is lush with the stems and leaves of our plants and their weedy neighbors.  We've been doing our best to battle the creeping of weeds into our fields, one row at a time.  We know that weeds provide excellent habitat for beneficial organisms and try not to get too overwhelmed as native plants make their moves onto our landscapes.  Our late crop of tomatoes seems to grow a foot a day and we've been spending hours convincing it to take to the Florida Weave-we've carefully placed around it over(and over) again.  At any given moment there may be two million Green Beans making their way into this world and our Okra is getting much taller than I.  Our second crop of Squash just manifested their first fruiting bodies and radishes are sprouting in the shady spots.  We're in non-stop motion these days just trying to keep up, but we feel good and our work, we know, is good.

Come out to the Peachtree Road Farmers Market this Saturday and wish Elliot and I Happy Anniversary! We'll be celebrating love and tolerance all day!

Empty Pockets

Oh the joys of being young, impoverished and exhausted!

It's been a hard week on the farm; summer heat making us all look like we sat in the splash zone at Sea World (if only!)  Swift thunder storms coming and going and the persistent load of ripening tomatoes keeping us on our toes.  Our sheep and goats have finally made the rotationally grazed trip to the very top of the hill and our care for them has become a pilgrimage.  Battling with electric fence netting, carrying buckets of water, and the oppressive heat have lead to some incredible spats of bickering, stomping, and the occasional threat of giving up.  We've been putting in odd hours and our energy is at an all time low.

In our off time (HA!) we have been scheming the future of the Sun Dog Farmers and preparing for our leave of Douglasville in the Winter.  The Sun Dog Farmers will become Sun Dog Farm in January of 2011 and my goodness is that a lot to think about.  We are currently in the process of acquiring more acreage to expand our veggies, eggs, meat, and milk.  This is a challenging thing to do when you have empty pockets and limited resources.  We've been collecting things here and there, buying used and abused farm equipment and really functioning with the help of some wonderful people.  We've been living off of what we can grow and barter for and our creativity is at a maximum.  We are hoping that our transition, to wherever it may be, will be aided by the support of all you saintly people who have welcomed our produce onto your dinner tables.

Being a young farmer ain't easy, but what a life to live!  If you haven't heard of it already, you need to check out  GROW the Movie!  Anthony-Masterson, the talented and beautiful film/photo duo, are back at it again, this time following the trials and tribulations of being a young farmer in the state of Georgia.  Elliot and I are both featured in the film along with a cast of characters all making their dreams come true, working their asses off to change the daunting food system of the United States.  Check out the blog and show them some love; this is a story that needs to be told.

While times are stressful and the income is low, the future is uncertain and we're not sure where to go, we are certain that there is no life out there for us that does not involve the sun, the moon, and a decent rain shower now and again.  We know life continues on without hesitating for anyone or anything and something incredible will be in the works in January 2011.  Currently at our Farmers' Market booths we will be taking names of people interested in receiving our newsletters and updates on our upcoming meat/egg/veggie CSA options.  The weight of the heat, the farm, and the transition are making us haggard and tired and we need a lot of love right now.   Feel free to hug us or sign up for our newsletters in support of what we do!

But it isn't all bad!  No way!  Being poor is a gift...  One that I have abundant experience with.  We are thrifty, wifty, and coming up with forms of entertainment that are natural and free!  Like creeping on unsuspecting people in the grocery store, getting slushies at the texaco, wearing fake mustaches around the farm or even making up sweet songs about our awkward billy goat, Giles.  Plus there is all the canning and pickling to be done!  And besides, we don't really need that much and when it comes down to it, we have a lot.  We have our crops, our livestock, our dogs, our community and each other.  And when having each other all the time becomes too much, I just sleep in the chicken mansion.  Just kidding??

Summer Time with BP

The gentle rumble of disappearing thunder has become our lullaby this week on the farm. Summer heat reaches its breaking point and shatters across the sky in spontaneous, electric streaks. Our sheep and goats have been cowering under their tarp protection and crying out at first sight of anyone passing by. The goats and sheep are so spoiled, in fact, that I have to avoid wearing bright colored clothing on the farm. If they see me, even from hundreds of feet away, they begin a chorus of moans that rattle my maternal instincts.

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