Two different forks.

You know movies like The Princess Dairies or Cinderella, where a young girl gets plucked from her modest upbringing and into the life of a princess?

Even better.

I’m guessing you could fill in the gaps from here, but I’m gonna tell the story anyway.

On the farm, we have what are called WWOOFers.  They come from all over the world to trade hard work for knowledge of organic farming.  Luckily, because these typically early 20′s folks are passionate about something as conscious as organics, they tend to be a really nice crop of people.  Recently, we had our first international WWOOFer, from Germany.  Imagine the courage it takes to hop on a plane to spend 6 weeks with a farming family you know not a minute more than a Skype call… in a different country… that speaks a different language.  Alina was quiet for the first few weeks, but not shy.  Her thoughtful confidence and attention to detail slowly established her place as a very trusted part of the team.  She’s below…

Growing the perfect bite…

We’re planting trees over here at Apricot Lane Farms! For reals… 2,010 little deciduous (meaning – goes dormant in the winter) arrived last week.  The project is a 20-acre block that we nicknamed “The Fruit Basket”, before we learned that there is some sort of sexual connotation to that term.  Doh… but, too late.  It had stuck.  The citrus trees aren’t arriving until end of March, but here’s the list of our future ingredients.

Building fertility.

Apricot Lane Farms officially has two new compost piles, almost three – one day we’ll have as many as 6.  Aren’t we big.  The picture above shows one of these piles in front of the trees it will one day nourish – my heart’s a flutter.  No puny piles here, but 100 – 200 foot rows designed to create compost for our many thousands of hungry fruit trees.  Merging the detailed approach Biodynamic farming and 130-acres of production is not easy, but holy cow, does it feel good.  From a cook’s perspective, every effort is for one singular goal – great food.

Brilliant orange yolks.

The first little egg from our small beginner batch of Barred Plymouth Rock hens is finally here!  Only took 22 torturous weeks of waiting.  Weeks spent holding our breathe with each peek into the nest; rocked with disappointment, until – WE GOT AN EGG!  A bigger thrill than any stupid roller-coaster I’ve ever endured.

Cows? Yup.

On Tuesday, our barnyard family is going to gain some girth, in the form of three Highland Cattle.  Actually, three & 1/2.  One heifer named Firefly is pregnant.  Her ultra-cute name makes me like her already.  The 21st century part of it is – I actually watched John bid on and win these cattle from my computer at the farm.  He almost lost the second heifer, when a (semi-illegal) bid snuck in last minute, but they re-opened the bidding, allowing John to win the little lady.

Who am I kidding, she’s not little at all!  These cows are huge.  Huge.  And we’re going to have three of them.  Today, my eyes are staring at my screen just a little wider than usual.

The Duck ICU

Two weeks ago, a shipment of 100 teeny tiny baby ducks arrived at the Post Office for Apricot Lane.  Perfect timing in preparation for the on-slot of snails in the spring, these Khaki Campbell ducks will be replacing many hours of labor spent spreading organic snail bait.

And I thought baby chickens were cute…

Homemade Organic Sweet Feed

Figuring out how to herd sheep into and out of the pastures each day was a bit challenging, until we figured out the magic trio – a red bucket, a bell and a treat called Sweet Feed.  Sweet feed is a grain mixture with a bit of molasses in it, and let me tell you something, sheep go mad for it.  They will follow you to the ends of the earth by the sound of that little bell and the looks of that bright red bucket. 

Two little lambs…

Minutes before sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, John got a call from Sarah that a lamb was birthing.  Out the door without a thought, we all made it in time to realize that we actually didn’t…  The baby was stuck and had died from a complicated birth. The blessing became that our arrival & help resulted in the mother’s life saved.  Around the table, we gave thanks for companionship to ease the void of loss.  The fragility of life surrounds and penetrates when living on a farm.

Project whistle.

For a long bit, whenever I’m determined to learn something new, it feels near impossible, or maybe a little closer than near – like pretty much totally impossible.  Not the often caffeine-induced moment of inspiration, that moment’s totally cool and confident.  It’s the long pause after the initial spike, when I’m typically reaching for chocolate, desperately trying to recreate my initial high.