where the wild things are

In two weeks time Victory Acres Farm has welcomed ten new animals. Eight of them are chicks, one of which spent what must have been a frightfully cold night in Terry's vehicle unbeknownst to us all until the following afternoon. (I wondered why I only counted seven chicks when I knew Terry had told me we were getting eight). Of the eight chicks a few appear like they will be roosters. Too bad for them, that will get them a ticket to the stewing pot. The happy little hens will be joining our older layers once they get a little bigger.

Annabelle, the goat is getting along rather well as she helps us mow down our rye grass in the fields. Eventually she will be staked out along the creek to clear brush. This fall she will help us clear fence row, as she is a voracious eater of all things shrubby. She is quite the social beast and makes her presence known by her constant and mournful bleating.

The last animal that got the drop at the farm last week is Jasper, the abused and abandoned puppy. Due to the fact that no one on the farm likes dogs besides me, I get the joyous responsibility of trying to train poor Jasper to be civil to all. A daunting task since his six month life has been a mixture of being tied up and tortured by children. He has found a friend in me and sticks close, but he is suspect of everyone else and has an aggressive running bark. Scary. He's got about three weeks to get it pulled together or he gets ushered out of here. I'm hoping he chills out a bit, being that this might be his best shot of having a happy home.

And so...life remains in motion.

virtual farm tour

Mom, Dad, Grandpa, and Grandma made the road trip to Upland for a late Easter lunch with Lana, Kyle and I. Lana and Kyle were gracious hosts in their mini-kitchen. Mom brought the ham, salad, and brownies. Lana made the biscuits and I fixed the potatoes. It was a patchwork effort, and delicious at that.

Grandpa and Grandma were treated to a personalized tour of Zondervan Library on Taylor University's campus; Lana's place of employment. And a cool, windy tour of Victory Acres Farm via golf cart.

I reside in an upstairs room in the old farm house (est. 1893). Cora Mae lives in the main floor. It is her house, she has lived there over 50 years and is kind enough to let me share space with her. She recently celebrated her 83rd birthday and proudly displayed her 23 birthday cards on her dining room table. Impressive!

The greenhouse is where it all happens right now. Due to the very wet and sometimes cool weather, we have been busy planting seeds into soil blocks, germinating them in a dark, warm box, and then moving them out onto tables in the greenhouse once the seeds pop up. It will be very crowded in a few more days when the eggplant, kohlrabi, and peppers all decide to show signs of life. So far we have lots of lettuce, broccoli, pea, tomato and parsley babies.

The "chicken tractor" is a movable laying house. It has nesting boxes on the end for easy access for the egg collector and can be moved around the farm with an electric fence to keep the birds in. Happy birds = yummy eggs!

The wood stove is a beast. It is our main way of heating the greenhouse on cold nights. We try to maintain a temperature of at least 50 degrees in the greenhouse at night. This means taking shifts throughout the night to stoke the fire. With the help of some coal dust and some skill at packing in the wood, we can get at least four hours of burn time out of each load.

Hope you enjoyed the virtual tour of Victory Acres. Feel free to stop by if you are in the area, we would love to give you a live tour of the farm. More going on all the time!

humility, in a nutshell

Humility: Knowing one's place in nature. And though it would be nice to control the weather, realizing it will ceaselessly do as it pleases.

And so it continues to rain. The temperatures drop. The nights are cold, the frost greets me in the morning as I pedal down the lane to the farm.

The staff performs in shifts at night to keep the wood burning stove in the greenhouse stoked. Every four hours. Open the trap, shove it full, shut the door. Back to bed.

Warm nights are much anticipated around here. Looks as if this week will be another week of working hard to maintain a minimum temperature of 50 degrees in the greenhouse.

The daffodils, crocuses, and bluebells are a cheerful reminder that spring is here, though it may not feel like it at the moment.

Fire!

Taylor University Prairie Restoration Project: Annual Controlled Burn

Hot Tamales, it's smoky around here! Check it out.

happy spring

It is officially spring. Changes are in the air. The sun is hanging around a bit longer, the birds are feeling happy enough to sing again and living on the farm means constant motion.

Collecting and washing eggs, planting seeds, prepping soil, completing crop plans, changing oil and tuning up the machines. The greenhouse tasks themselves require all day vigilance. Monitoring temperatures in the germination box as well as the green house. Opening doors, closing doors, watering seedlings, thinning seedlings, building and maintaining a fire in the wood stove all night.

I get encouragement from the tiny vegetable plants that are happy and growing in their cozy environment. Broccoli, lettuces, parsley, turnips, and much more to come. Tis the season, eh?

buried treasures

Even when I was much younger I loved the idea of hidden treasure. My friend, Ivanna, and I were always dreaming up hopeful illusions or delusions of finding trinkets or valuables (didn't matter to us) deep in the woods, floating just beneath the surface of murky Lake Manitou, or even in the most common places. It was a few years later, when I was in high school and then in college when I made a habit of randomly hiding $10 and $20 bills in my car, in pockets of my jackets, anywhere where I'd promptly forget about them. Only to stumble onto them again sometime in the future, surprised.

One of the benefits of living a transient life is that I tend to forget what I own. My belongings have been spread out between states, houses, and rooms over the past three years. I've developed an annual tradition of spending an afternoon or evening in my grandparents' basement opening and closing box after box in order to remind myself of my forgotten treasures.

A week ago I made the pilgrimage to Fortna Dr on a Sunday evening. I spent an hour sitting on the cool cement floor discovering some of my "old friends". Buried in the dust, I found:

• a globe
• a bread machine
• my college bat bag, metal spikes, and ball gloves
• a travel size bible
• an apron with my name stitched on the front
• a pouch of arrowheads
• a photo of me and my hermit crab, Gretel

I don't enjoy all aspects of being the nomadic one of the family. And having to re-inventory my life every year, isn't necessarily a joy. However, the hour in Grandpa and Grandma's basement was a journey back in time and it was good. Good to be reminded of important moments, people and gifts.

basketball...its madness

It is the middle of March. March Madness has begun, and it is like a breath of fresh air. It has been three years since I've been able to watch NCAA basketball. For three years I've had to rely on others to keep me up to date on the season and the tournament. Not a great way to stay informed, I've discovered.

2006 I was preparing for the Appalachian Trail, visiting friends and family. No time for basketball. 2007 I was living in Billings with a roommate who valued Ugly Betty over NCAA basketball. I had never met, nor will I meet ever again, anyone who would admit to that. I was shocked, and depressed. And that brings me to 2008. Whidbey Island. No television.

So, back in Indiana, 2009...yeehaw! Basketball galore. I'm totally stoked. I've got my bracket filled out, I'm reading the papers, staying up to date, watching the games. I love it.

And, as a side note, the Rochester Zebras boys basketball team have been enjoying extended success this March. They will be playing in semi-state's this Saturday. Go Z's. The last time my high school boy's basketball team won their Regional was in 1943. So this is a big deal for our little town.

you heard it here

"You gotta be 5% lunatic to do this!" (per sustainable farming)

Quote by one of the speakers at the Food, Farm and Energy Gathering that I attended last weekend in Indianapolis.

Jiggity Jig

After 2600 miles of interstate driving in combination with nearly 40 hours of watching the road pass under the wheels of my truck, I can't describe how nice it is to be stationary for a moment or two, before heading into my new field of hands-on study at Victory Acres Farm. I'll be back and forth between there and mom & dad's until the remodel is done on my room at the farm. Most likely the beginning of March.

I have a new address now. If you would like it, feel free to shoot me an email and I'd be happy to pass that on to you.

As a side note: if any of you saw that program on t.v. about the killer on the Appalachian Trail, that guy was not the guy Megan and I ran into in 05. I've gotten a few emails, texts and calls about him, and I had never even heard of him. The guy we ran into did not kill on the Appalchian Trail, he was just hiding there. Not that that is any better, since he did kill elsewhere, but I thought I'd try to clear up any misunderstandings. Thanks for being concerned.

bob the builder

Bob the builder would be proud of me. Well...proud of Mare and I, that is. The past couple of weeks we have been commissioned to build Lavender Wind Farm a cold frame the size of Noah's Ark. This cold frame will be home to wee little plants that have been started under lights and on heat mats and are ready to begin their hardening off phase of life. The cold frame will create a warm little home for these plants until they are ready to face the chilly spring of the great northwest.

Though at times it seemed more like a comedy of errors, Mare and I successfully finished our project this week. This 8' x 4' box will be a great addition to Lavender Wind Farm's organic growing vision.

On the same note. I had been wanting to build a cold frame for Suzie here on Spyglass Dr for some time. After starting the project at the farm I decided that procrastination could no longer be a legitimate excuse. On Saturday, Amber helped me construct this much smaller box (made of an old window and scrap lumber) for Suzie's garden. I think it turned out great, I do hope she likes it.