2019 in Review

I know I haven’t been in this space much this year, despite all the best intentions and half starts, but I simply cannot let 2019 pass without a bit of a review, for your sake and my own 😉

Hold on tight, it’s been a trip…

Winter

What is it about the cold, short days of Winter that leaves us longing to push seeds into soil and feel the warm summer sun on our backs?

There’s a magic, I believe, that wraps us up in the ice crystals of winter and helps us forget the long, grueling hours of summer farming and leaves us craving those moments out of context and through a perspective skewed by rose-colored glasses.

Maybe it’s the slower pace that leaves our hearts longing for longer, fuller days?

Maybe it’s the muffled call of the soil, blanketed under the snow, begging for cultivation?

Maybe it’s simply the cyclical nature of working on and with the land that creates a complicated relationship, rich and deep, profoundly lovely and devastatingly heartbreaking that leaves us aching for the next opportunity for greatness?

Regardless of it’s origins, the Winter of 2019 found me sorting seeds, ordering others, learning how to make sourdough, and daydreaming about the greens of May and all that the summer might offer.

And then, of course, there were the kids to prepare for… the kits to pull together, the energy and stamina to muster, the excitement to temper until mama calls and stomping feet told us it was time for the 2019 kids to arrive and bounce their ways into our hearts.

Little did we know then how hard it would all be once Ethel kicked us off with twin bucklings born 11 days too soon, breaking our hearts and challenging our resolve in ways we never imagined possible.

Little Guy, our very sick preemie house goat stuck with us despite having a ~10% chance of survival and being rejected by his mom. I truly hope to never have to provide the kind of interventions we did with him to keep him on this side of the veil but I’m so glad he survived and is thriving.

Spring

Once the cloud of Little Guy’s arrival lifted a bit, the sheer abundance of spring’s beginnings knocked us on our knees.

The rest of the kids were born on time and without too much drama and with Ricky being our sole sire, we decided to add another buck into the mix for fall breeding and brought home Carlos.

Beyond the kids and ducklings flitting about, bowls upon bowls of strawberries, and an orchard that teased of abundant cherries, peaches, apples, pears, and plums. The garlic was growing well and we got in a good plot each of blue corn and green chile.

The cooler temps had everything growing a bit slowly, but the hope and promise in the air were palpable. Here in the high desert, after a wet winter gifting us full acequias and happy soil, at least, we were prepared for a banner year.

Apocalyptic climate change worries abounded around the country and globe, though. The floods in other areas delayed and prevented countless acres from being planted or ruined crops just as they’d gotten their roots under them.

There was a vacillation between hope for our future and all the dreams we’ve built our lives and our farm around and utter despair for the bigger picture issues of climate change and food security/insecurity. I found myself often flashing on the movie The Day After Tomorrow and how quickly things escalated, wondering if this was the year we’d visibly, unequivocally, hit the tipping point.

I doubled down on my resolve, promised myself I’d plant a garden as back up (but didn’t really), thought about purchasing more seeds (but didn’t after all), and had endless conversations with locals (farmers + others) about their own concerns.

The season quickened and day to day life took over leaving the bigger fears to marinate under the surface while immediate and pressing matters took precedence.

In the midst of it all, we had a nasty hail storm that ripped through the valley, knocking back a few crops and delaying harvests while utterly decimating others. The cherries I’d gazed so loving upon just a days prior were left to rot on the trees due to heavy bruising.

The upside of the storms was in their ability to thin some of the fruit from the other trees, a task which is never fun when done by hand.

Sometimes you just have to take what you can get.

Summer

Summer brought with it an intense build up, for sure. Our super wet winter led into a cool wet spring that just pounced into the high heat of actual summer temps and our fingers were crossed for quick growth and abundant harvests.

Late June and early July brought in a wealth of summer storms which, generally in the high desert, are a welcome occurrence. However, I could have happily done without the additional two hail storms we got pummeled with.

While the berries, corn, and chile recovered, we lost a huge portion of our apple harvest this year. Many of them were simply knocked from the trees and what were left were bruised and battered.

Farming.

Time and crop losses didn’t make Market attendance a realistic venture this year, but the apples that were salvaged were saved for fall cider and it is absolutely divine 🙂

While not on par with last summer, the raspberries and blackberries were abundant enough to allow for all the fresh eating we could handle as well as for several gallons to be frozen up for future use.

There was also great excitement in watching the late-planted cukes, beans, and squash germinate and grow in the garden and enjoyment in the fresh mint and lemon balm that came out of the herb bed and went straight into my iced tea. It wasn’t the full garden I’d planned on and much of it failed, but at least it was something. Coupled with the abundant herb garden, my heart was pretty damn content.

Fall

Summer was a trip and the trip continued into Fall, filled with more ups and downs, exhaustion and exhilaration, reflections and plans…

I thanked the Universe more than once that we were/are not trying to make a full-time income off the farm yet because we would have had a helluva a time doing so this year.

Yes, there were apples on trees, but they were all hail damaged and so not pretty enough to sell at Market.

Yes, the berries finally found their push, but only after a few setbacks due to hail and heavy storms.

Yes, there was chile in the field, but a mere fraction of what we’d hoped for due to the super chilly spring into summer period we had.

The blue corn captured its color , but was promptly discovered by the raccoons who treated themselves to 2/3 of the crop right before we could get out and harvest.

The goats adapted to their new herd dynamics after we sold off several of our does in an attempt at relieving some stress and cutting a few costs. We didn’t realize how intensely the dynamics would change between each of the girls and, with our new learnings, will approach any sell-offs a bit differently in the future.

Five does were bred to our new buck and we should start seeing babes in March. Two are first fresheners so who knows what those two pretty ladies will have in store for us.

We had two mama ducks hatch out nearly forty fluffy butts (in total) a mere five days apart from each other, so we navigated housing and feed and made a plan for sending many of them off to Freezer Camp while enjoying all of the fluffy-butt magic our hearts could hold.

The turkeys this year (Blue Slates and Bourbon Reds) were just the sweetest birds we’ve raised, curious and calm and simply adored!

The Olive Eggers we added to the farm last Spring began laying the most glorious green eggs I’ve ever seen and a big Homestead Goal was achieved in adding new colors to our rainbow egg offerings and consumption.

And then were the new (big) additions that we wouldn’t have imagined in the spring but had been hoping for for years.

Yep, we added Kunekune pigs to the farm!

Yes, two sweet babes (Fred and Wilma) arrived in September and immediately began creating so much joy in our hearts and on the property!

The intention for these cuties is three-fold:

1. Weed control, orchard clean up, and land fertilization in a rotational grazing program with the poultry and goats
2. These two will be our mated pair, making babies for two purposes: we will sell some to other breeders (yes, they’re all registered and legit) and
3. We will, eventually send some offspring to Freezer Camp because…bacon (plus other cuts, obviously)

Kunekunes have been on our wish list for years now but I’ve always been hesitant about our capacity for adding yet more animals to our workload. That being said, Kim must have caught me on a good day when she found the ad for these two because I said yes and my answer didn’t change after sleeping on it so…PIGS!

As we slid into the cooler months we celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary (though we’ve got 13 years total under our belts), Ember played her first season of soccer, and we took an epic trip to Mexico all before…

Are you ready for it?

All before adding yet another critter to our Ever Growing Farmily!

Meet Barley, our Spanish Mastiff LGD in training who joined the farm just a few short weeks ago:

Which brings us back to Winter and all of the reflection, hope, and inspiration She brings with Her.

I’ve just inventoried and ordered seeds again, charted Spring kidding dates, and am determined to read a book or two and crochet a few rows while the snow flies.

We’ll see how far I get.

Life is crazy-full and often feels a bit chaotic to this concrete-sequential mama, but we’re doing our best to live our Bucket List, so we’re breathing into all the busy-ness of it and counting all of our many blessings.

Farming is intense. It’s hot and dirty and hard in the summer, cold and slippery and hard in the winter. It can hold every emotion imaginable under the sun within the passing of a single day. And yet, a bit battered and thoroughly exhausted, there’s a grace to be found in the power of Nature, humility to embrace as we do our best to work alongside Her, and a deep sense of gratitude for the abundance and wonder She offers up daily.

I won’t pretend to know what 2020 might have in store for us, but I have a few quiet plans and will admit to being hopeful and excited about whatever sits around the bend, just out of sight and beyond my imagination. The responsibility of caring for animals, cultivating crops, and caring for the land all while balancing off-farm jobs, family life, and the random spot of self-care has left me scratching my head in wonder more than once but when I think of the alternatives I’m reminded that there truly is no other path I’d rather be on.

xoxo,

M