Ebenezer the scrooge

I am the Christmas grinch. I do not enjoy the consumerism or gluttony attached with the season. If Christ is the reason for the season, or if this time of the year is a reason to give to those we love, or even if it's a time for families to gather; the holiday needs a good trimming. Get rid of the lights, the decor, the excessive eating, and the presents. Excess. That's what I think of during the holidays. Christmas embodies society's inability to do things in moderation.

I do enjoy woodstoves though. I can tell you that. And cheese. Christmas gives me more of those to things, and because of that, all is not lost. (take note: slight sarcasm)

Back again

Christmas eve.

Just finished writing three cover letters for summer employment. I let my mind have the inability to not focus on certain tasks at hand, meaning I am constantly trying to see what job opportunities are out there. As the money in my bank account dwindles I am reminded that I need to get my butt into gear. I need to get a job.

Peace. This is something that is not currently in my life. Instead I find myself searching. Searching out opportunities, searching out ideas, searching out options. I am not currently at a point where I sit still, and am full of peace.

I reflect, too much probably, on the farm. Many afternoons I sat in the lounge after a day of work and was seemingly full of peace. Calmness.

The holidays are good. Seeing friends, seeing family, being reminded that snow is not actually all evil, is good. Snow. Oh snow. When it falls I am not the kind of person saying, "Oh how beautiful". No, I'm the kind of person saying, "What a cruel joke". But this morning (well lunchtime really, holidays are making my sleep cycle pathetic) I was walking down the hill to let the chickens out of their coop, and looking across the fields and forests saw a beautiful sky, with beautiful scenery, and most of all, beautiful snow.

Life is not meant to be lived in a rush. I am living here now. And here, there are good things. There, there are also good things too. Eventually I won't be here, I'll be there, where-ever there is, and there will still be good. I must not let myself forget that.

Good ol' fasion West Coast experience

- That was yesterday

It was my last weekend here, on the island, at the farm. I was asked if there is anything I'd like to do/see/etc. Saturday night I went to Victoria for dinner with a friend. Sunday was the big day. 'Canada's Biggest Tree' was the goal of the day. To see this tree you have to drive about an hour and a half up island, past Mill Bay and Duncan, to Carmana (which is actually on the West Coast). Well after our drive up island we then headed inland - on wonderfully pothole filled logging road. We drove by a group of elk which was pretty neat. We were heading down the logging road, past Cowichan Lake, past millions of logged trees. We were getting closer. After about an hour on this logging road we came to a halt. The road had been flooded - and there was actually a current. Well, to get to this point we had already driven through lots of water so we at first didn't lose hope. We inched along in the water, then decided that getting stuck in a lake on a logging road in the middle of nowhere was probably not a good idea. The road was flooded, washed out, and after driving three hours and being only an hour away from Canada's largest tree (which is a cedar by the way) we felt defeated.

Well now what?

It ends up I saw the world's third largest spruce tree - which is pretty humongous. We also drove to Port Renefrew (mind you, yesterday I spent around seven hours driving through logging country). The tide was high, and that with all of the rain had flooded out the road. In three spots we drove the Tacoma through feet of water. There was a couple vehicles that had sucked water into their exhaust, a van stuck in the water, and an awesome offroading Sidekick that was fully capable of pulling out any vehicle that needed help. We were fine though. The truck got some good use out of yesterday, that's for sure. When we got to Port Renefrew I finally was able see my ocean sunset. This is pretty special, seeing that it's November and being able to see the sun let alone a sunset is something to be thankful for. I saw the sun set right on the ocean. Around much of the lower island the sun actually sets behind the Olympic Mountains, not on the ocean. The stretch of coast I could see was rough, and violent. The winds were strong, and the waves stronger. It was an absolutely beautiful view, completely priceless, and a reminder of the magnitude of beauty that untouched nature has.

And then! I was taken to a surprise (though the surprise had been spoiled due to large mouthed people) at one of the restaurants in Sooke we sell produce too. Let me clarify: we only sell food to incredibly high end restaurants that without the financial aid of a secondary source I would never eat at. Everything was local and the chef was my favourite chef from all of the restaurants. We ate well - and I've never ate anything so expensive - ever. Everyone from the farm was there, and there was a toast dedicated to me. It was really kind, and I feel like I am going to be leaving the farm on the best possible note!

Today - well at ten we have coffee. Because that's what we do every day at ten. Then I am going for a hike to my favourite look out spot in East Sooke Park with the neighbour. I'll have chicken wings tonight. Because that's what we do every Monday night.

I cannot believe that this experience is almost over. I've become so used to life at the farm, working every day, eating the highest quality food, seeing the beautiful ocean views, and not being scared of cougars. I'm nervous to go back to school - and to Guelph for that matter. Mostly school though. My desire to return to school will go unmentioned, because it's rather small. I really do love Vancouver Island, the rugged beauty, and the incredibly eclectic people. East Sooke has a rather high concentration of them. Every person involved with the farm has aided in how enjoyable this has been for me, and how difficult at times as well. I'm often times a flip-floppy person when it comes to whether or not I enjoy things. I have a love-hate relationship with lots of activities. After much reflection and thought I can seriously say that I have enjoyed being here at the farm, that I've grown, I've been challenged, and I'm a little less scared of the unknown, my questions and my doubts. I want to continue to pursue truth, to search after what's real and what's genuine. I have no clue where that search is going to take me.

A lesson in communication

You know, if we all just communicated with each other - why don't we do that again? I don't know. Someone explain it to me. I'd probably get a grade f in a "proper way to communicate" course.

Can't get enough of this band, this song, or even this video.

mumbo jumbo

A battle: the fight between hope and defeatism. People claim, "The world is sick". Agreed. It is. But the world is also beautiful, and full of goodness. Sometimes I feel overwhelmingly hopeful. Other times, it's safe to say that there's no solution. A problem at times is simply that, a problem.

I guess people feel the same way about suffering, and large scale injustices.

It's the small, personal struggles that cause a spirit of defeat in me at times.

And there sits hope. 

(on a side note: it seems strangely appropriate that my blog is called "and peace will come")

Winter rain

Room heaters, bath tubs and wool are the key to my warmth these days. I keep reading about people in Ontario throwing snowballs, biking home from late study sessions at the library in the snow, and wearing winter coats. Here in East Sooke the weather is far from wintery - at least to me.

Please listen:

Please watch:

Please look:

This is Canela.

This is Leo.

This is at Ford Warden State Park in Port Townsend, Washington.

Tofino! And true open ocean. None of this Olympic Mountain background business. Just pure, beautiful, harsh, vast - OCEAN.

This week I successfully made sour mizithra. It's a soft cheese. Mmmm. So delicious. I also made parmesan. Woop de doo. I thoroughly enjoy making cheese. It tastes so delicious. The farm dwellers had pizza for dinner on Friday. We used cheese I made to put on all of the pizzas, and into the outdoor stone oven they went. Delicious I tell you. I was thinking about it and I probably eat around five servings of wonderfully fattening dairy a day. I've recently made chocolate, raspberry and vanilla ice cream. 

The month of November has been rainy so far. Rain is a daily occurrence now. That's alright, it's all part of the experience. And what an experience it has been. My heart is beginning to ache for the comforts of home - my own space, friends that drink tea together, potlucks, and funk night at the Albion to name a few. At the same moment, simultaneously, I am so unsure. The farm is a place I am now accustomed to. I wake, I work, I live here. I learn here. It's been such a testing time being here. People always talk about "going off", "doing something", "taking time off" - well technically I've done that I suppose. But here I am, in the office of the barn (because technology stinks and computers break) and is there some greater lesson I've learned? To be honest, most of the lessons I think I have learned are dark and dreary. But they're true.

Today I took off to Victoria and drank tea in Chinatown. I'm a feeling advocate. I'll tell you that. I say feel to the max. Feel it all. And I realized, that the simple knowledge of truth is meaningless to me. Knowing what is true in life has no affect on me. Knowing something in my head is at times useless. Once I feel truth in my heart, it is then that truth ultimately affects me. And I suppose that's why the lessons I've learned seem somewhat depressing, because they've been difficult truths to learn, and difficult feelings have accompanied those truths. This may sound like bologna to you - but it's realities slap in the face to me.

The farm is reality. It's work. It's food. It's disagreeing with people. It's laughing with people. It's a simple life that at times is so incredibly easy to appreciate. It's at those times I think to myself, :"Why the heck am I leaving here?" But life requires change, and I need to figure out what change I need in my life. I can't run off to some farm on Vancouver Island whenever I'm scared of what's coming. I need to face life. And face my uncertainties about school and social work, by returning to those very things. I need to face my uncertainties about the necessity academia, student life and community by partaking in it. I have many more truths to learn, perhaps dark, perhaps full of the brightness of life. But in order to learn those truths, I need to not run away. I need to go back to Guelph.

I can't spell

I kept trying to think of how to spell words - such as parmesan (parmesean?) and hayleage (haylige?) for a blog post heading but I was reminded of how horrible of a speller I am.

When I got here over three months ago (!!!) it took me two weeks to remember how to spell zucchini, and when we started to harvest broccoli I was met with another spelling challenge (for me). The funny thing is since being here I have read more than at any other time in my life. That's just how the ball rolls isn't it?

I took Shu (Susan and Vivi's dog) for a walk in the back forty today. They're in Vancouver and I am dog-sitting. I walked all along the creek and was reminded of the sheer beauty of this place. The trees have the most colour right about now, and it finally feels like winter is coming. It's cold in the mornings now; long underwear is necessary. My hands froze while feeding the cows this morning.

But our walk was beautiful, and I felt more peace than I have felt for days. As my time here draws to an end I need to remind myself to keep my eyes open. I need to remember the simple beauties that I am surrounded by. I was just talking to someone today about how when I wake up in the morning I think "work" and that's just fantastic, isn't it? I put on my "work" clothes (I've sure got good use out of them) and eat my oatmeal. Then off to work. This morning it was milking the cows, tomorrow it'll be harvesting vegetables, and the next day it will be setting up for market. I don't wake up and think "school, assignments, appointments, AHHH". I simply think "work". I really enjoy that.

The more I talk to people, the more I realize that I really enjoy farming. I enjoy it's simplicity. Yes, I know you have to have money to buy a barn. Thanks everyone, I know I am presently broke. But we need farmers, do we not? Why can't I be one of them?

Music Within

I envy people full of validity, full of sureness, and knowledge. Those who are so sure, too stubborn for their own good. Those are the ones I envy, yet those are the ones I detest. An unwillingness to see - to be wrong.

This is me and my inner cynic, full of bitterness and simple exhaustion with down right stubborn people.

Tonight I don't want to sleep. I'm sick of sleeping. I want to enjoy the sunshine. 

I went for a lovely hike today in East Sooke Park (Coppermine Trail). The name of the trail is with good reason, seeing that we hiked by a mine shaft that had been work on from the late nineteenth century up until the nineteen seventies. When we started off, the sky was dreary and the air, wet. Typical. By the time we got to the ocean the skies had begun opening up and I got to take in the pure beauty the sun and ocean getting along for once. I swear people in East Sooke don't know what they're missing by not stepping foot on every single path in that park.

The rain returned though. I can hear it falling on the roof above my head.

Tomorrow, we slaughter the meat birds. And I need to cut back the thorny berry bushes. I should sleep. It's late and I need to be up early. Enough

Goodnight.

Since being in East Sooke:

I've discovered the goodness in original Mickey Mouse cartoons.

I've learned a brief history of the car companies, Studebaker and Packard, and their merger in 1954. Rob is a Studebaker addict, and owns both a Studebaker and Packard. Just today we spent half an hour looking on craigslist, him showing me the cars he dreams of owning.

I've learned about the practicality of the Mercedez-Benz, Unimog, a dual-purpose truck - the truck of all trucks. Drew has a similar addiction to Rob, but his is to Unimogs. The only person in Sooke who owns a Unimog is "Timber Jim" and there are lots of questions as to how he managed to buy it.

I now want to ride the Road of Bones in Russia, knowing that this will most likely never happen, simply because I have no need to go to Magadan (the Russian city where the road ends). The road was built during the Stalin era of the USSR. Over twenty million labour camp inmates died during it's construction. The road is a memorial because the bones of the inmates who died while constructing this road were laid beneath it. Part of the excitement of this road is the river crossings and the necessary four-wheel-drive trucks needed for crossing those rivers.

I've discovered the joy of listening to the radio, and just how great CBC is. On days that I make cheese I listen to CBC Radio One on our broken tape player. It has one volume setting, LOUD. This means I hear the news, and the news gives me headaches, not simply due to it's content.

Now: I'm enjoying the afternoon. Market is over. I'm sitting in the only warm room in the barn, my bedroom. Listening to some wonderful music, burning candles even though I'm not supposed to. The insurance claim on the barn isn't very high, so it would be bad if I burnt it down (who would've thought?).

That's all. Good bye. Thanks for reading Mom.

"Typical West Coast Cold"

That's today.

It's wet. It's cold. It sinks into your bones.

I applied to a couple of jobs for the University of Guelph today. I am going to be very poor upon my return. At the farm having no money is not an issue I need to concern myself with. I get all of my food because I work for it. I don't leave too frequently because I don't have a car and public transit requires lots of sitting time. 

I am making Derby today. Named after a town in England. It's a hard cheese similar to cheddar but has a higher moisture content. Canela is being cute today. She can smell the blood of Georgina's slaughter and is sad, whining in the pasture and chasing after me all morning. The company is nice.

Susan and Vivi have left the farm for the evening. I am house sitting for the night. Really it's an excuse to stay in their cabin, which has a wood stove and a bath tub. Sitting in the barn is cold. I want a bath. Hearing the rain on the steel roof makes me even feel wet.

4:30 - At this time I'll flip the cheese and put fifty pounds on it. Then, a bath, a hot hot hot bath, that makes my skin turn bright red.
I am trying to be happy today.

Home

In just over a month I am coming home - flying from Victoria to Toronto. Do I feel ready just yet? Not at all. Actually I would be quite content finding another farm to call home, remaining by the ocean, and learning more skills. I am going back to try one more semester. I cannot guarantee that I'll finish my degree. But I will try it out, one more time.

Today was a really great day. I had some great conversations with some fascinating people. We successfully slaughtered Georgina, and as per every Monday we had chicken wings and beer.

Satisfaction indeed.

Georgina

Tonight Drew, Susan and I sat in the sun room going over the details about tomorrow. I drank my fruit juice, Susan hers, and Drew his beer. Tomorrow Georgina is being shot and slaughtered.

Acting

Today is Sunday. I get today and tomorrow off. On Monday's I always go into Sooke or Victoria, but Sunday, this day of the week has nothing designated to it.

I was pulling the irrigation hoses out of the gardens today. This is one of the things that has been added to my "to do" list, and in doing so, is part of the "you get money now" agreement. At the farm I am temporary. My purpose is to provide cheap labour. That's the reason I am able to be here. Sometimes it becomes apparent that I am simply fulfilling a need. Once that need is no more, I am no more. Well that creates a lack of investment on both my part, and the other farm dwellers parts.

I was pulling the hoses out of the garden, lining them along the six foot wire fence that keeps deer out of the gardens (rather unsuccessfully). For keeping certain people's business, their business, I'll just say that Grandma and granddaughter were in the garden. Grandma was explaining to granddaughter that sometimes mom's get sad and they need to be alone. It was a beautiful moment. And there I was, simply fulfilling the farm needs - a bystander to the events of people's lives.

I feel like a stage assistant simply watching the actors live their lives here at the farm. I make sure the farm is operating successfully. I do the dishes in the kitchen and I set up for the market. The stage is set and the actors live out their lives, well I sit back and I watch.

That's what it feels like sometimes.

Diversification

I understand that by posting this I am completely fulfilling the hippy, organic, locavore stereotype. I honestly have no interest in following the trend of eating locally. I am interested in eating efficiently though, in ways that can sustain the most amount of people. I have no interest in conventional farming. I don't think Harvest for Hunger's attempt to break the world record for the fastest way to harvest 160 acres of soybeans (click on link) at a farm near Monkton, Ontario earlier this month, is a solution to hunger. The intention is there, but by no means are mass production farms feasible solutions to food security issues.


Here are a couple of videos discussing urban farming, and unconventional agricultural practices. 

I saw Will Allen at a talk in Port Townsend. He was named one of Time's 100 Most Influential People in 2010. Press here for the link.

GH_Peek in Progress from The Greenhorns on Vimeo.

This is the first episode of The Greenhorns documentary.

Ledar Road

Body full with energy
Running with termites
Their red wings flying
My red heart pounding

At the top - the end
Rocks thrown, arms swung
Blood racing, legs pacing
At Ledar road

Full moon frustrations
Running with termites
Barreling down Park Heights
The real life narrow path


Today I ran the Victoria half-marathon. Immediately after the race was run I was struck with food poisoning from a rather skeptical breakfast yesterday. I ran this race faster than my last race, in a much less race-ready condition.

The poem is something I wrote on September twelfth. There are lines left out, because I will simply not expose my complete self to all you folk.

Tonight I am going to Josie's house for Thanksgiving dinner. I may not have a biological family to celebrate the season of harvest with, but I have the Ragley Farm community - a very true to life family.

Vancouver was lovely, and quick, and full of public transportation. I'm considering buying a vehicle. In all seriousness.

Tomorrow I will sleep, read, and enjoy fall on the farm, eventually making my way to Miranda's for another Thanksgiving dinner. She is a lovely lady, and keeps me company while picking lettuce Friday mornings, and keeping watch of the market on Saturday mornings.

Now, I rest. Because soon, I eat.

Van city.

Tomorrow I once again leave my tiny farm world. I am going to Vancouver for the night - going to a concert with a friend, and staying at a hostel.

Today I woke up in a horribly rotten mood. I bet I had quite the scowl on my face as I planted clover in the pasture. Pitching stinky sawdust and manure out of the barn with loud music blaring in my ears (eventually leading to deafness I'm sure) made me feel a little better.

What really did it was a jog to the ocean. I felt drastically more content with my current situation after seeing the beautiful ocean view. If you scroll down and look at the map of East Sooke Park and find Pike Point - well that's where I was. Murray and I jogged down to the ocean - right down to the ocean. Oh it felt good. We stood at the tip of the black rocks and watched waves come crashing in. The sun was low in the sky, and the sky was dark with clouds so the sun was bright and orange. A massive sea lion surfaced within meters of where we were standing. Murray said it was probably around nine hundred pounds. He's a sea man so he would know.

For dinner I ate greens from the gardens, red peppers from the greenhouse, feta made on the farm and salmon caught in the ocean this afternoon.

Tomorrow I leave right after lunch - I worked extra late today so I could leave early tomorrow. And tomorrow - I get paid - money! Not food, or accommodations - money! I'm going to go to Vancouver and I'm going to be nice and responsible and spend it.

Today I missed home so incredibly much. I miss my friends. I miss the comfort of having people know me, and understand my stupid idiosyncrasies. I miss the safety.

At the same time I am terrified of returning to Ontario, going back to school, and not being able to work in the gardens and talk to the cows on a daily basis.

We'll see.

I still have to go to Portland, and up island. These things will be done.

Till then - Vancouver it is.

AHHH

gahhhh

Expectation

I cannot imagine what sitting in a library for hours feels like - and for that matter, how I did it. On days off I need to jog simply to rid myself of all my excess energy.

People keep telling me, "You're living the dream". What interesting dreams people have. Why does it have to be a dream for that matter? What holds people back from escaping the norms and expectations society places on us? Fear? Lack of knowledge?

I went to a potluck this evening. Lots of people retire in East Sooke. There were only three people under the age of thirty there. Large groups make me feel uncomfortable. I ended up talking to an elderly man about his experience working on a tobacco farm when he was a youth. He told me he'd drop by the market to continue our conversation. I also talked to one of the other "under thirties". He works at the bike store in Sooke and is going to give me a bicycle. I currently have no mode of transportation except bus route sixty four and kind neighbours.

I cannot seem to sleep the last couple of nights. Whether it is restlessness, loneliness, excess energy, exhaustion, or frustration, I don't know. When I lie down at night my brain will not turn off.

I spent three hours making cards last night and it felt really nice. My bedroom is the only place in this barn that I feel at home in. Communal living is often times invasive. That's life.

One of the cheeses I made this week was supposed to be provolone. I didn't read the recipe properly so I didn't dilute the lipase. I also forgot about the cheese while making it. Needless to say, it wasn't provolone, but it was the first cheese to sell out at market. I like that.

I am scared about returning to Guelph. I do not want to fall into the same cycle. I do not want to cram my days: work, school, campus ministries events, the gym, group meetings, house responsibilities, coffee dates, volunteering, hours in the library. I expect too much of myself. Why is the thought of having a seventy average so horrible? Why do I think I need to be a leader in campus ministries? Why is simply investing in Friendship Club, a few close friends, school, a part-time job and church not enough? Why do we place so many demands on ourselves? Why are we so uncomfortable not being busy?

I live here. I work here. I rest here. I volunteer on Mondays. I rest on Sundays.  I've learned to enjoy music more. I enjoy laughter more. I enjoy running more. I enjoy looking at the sky more. I am thankful for my hands. I am thankful for my food. I am thankful for sunshine and for rain. I am thankful for wool and for rain boots.

But mostly, right now, I'm thankful for freedom.

Home

I live on East Sooke Road, in between Gillespie Road and Anderson Cove. I have been to: Iron Mine Bay, Cabin Point, Beechy Point, Aylard Farm, Beecher Bay, Pike Road, Park Heights Trail, part of the Coast Trail, Babbington Trail and Endurance Ridge.

Two kayakers went missing two days ago. There is a search and rescue team looking for them - helicopters, boats, float planes. The neighbours spotted a cougar a week ago. I saw sea lions in the ocean a couple of days ago. I also saw very dangerous jellyfish in the ocean (according to Murray). This is my backyard. And I like it.

Getting things straight

First and foremost, I have no long term plan. I don't know what I'll do when I graduate. I don't know where I'll settle down. I don't know if I ever want children. And thinking about the future.... nope.

Secondly, running is just so gosh darn good. Kicking myself to get off of my lazy behind is the only problem. Once I do that though, my head is cleared, my legs are firing, my heart is pounding and my soul is smiling.

Thirdly, one of my favourite things about Ragley Farm is dancing in the milking room. After evening milking I normally try to power through all of the washing. I swear half of dairy is washing dishes, sanitizing dishes, etc, etc. But when I am washing the dishes in the milking room after everyone has left the farm I do my thing. And my thing includes dancing and singing at the top of my lungs to this song:

Dave Rawlings Machine - Monkey and the Engineer

If you want a window into my soul listen to this song. Mmm, dancing to this definitely includes some heel tapping.

Tractor driving

Today has been a normal day, for the most part. I woke up and ate granola and yogurt. I milked Nell, Ginger and Canela (in that order). I watered the herb gardens. I moved several loads of sawdust from the sawmill to the barn. This was done using the tractor. I went to Sooke to do errands. I made queso fresco and bonbon -- both soft cheeses. I started turning the soil for a garden. Tonight I milk the cows, salt the feta, and take the queso fresco out of it's mold.

While working in the garden I listened to this song.

The Truck Got Stuck - Corb Lund

I am realizing that I like country music. I don't know where I went wrong. I think as long as there is some blues it's okay.

I have been here fifty nine days. Everyday is different. Some days I am so content being here. Other days I miss my friends back home so incredibly much (you know who you are). The season's changing.  I needed to get two blankets from Josie because the two I have are not keeping me quite warm enough at night. The barn is chilly. The air is damp too. It took my clothes two days to dry on the line this week.

Here are some things I have to look forward to in October:

• Money - I start getting paid. Believe it or not up to this point the only money I have received is that made from shoveling sawdust.
• A.A Bondy - October seventh. That's the day. Drew and I are going to go to Vancouver to see A.A Bondy in concert. am I excited? Yes. 
• Slaughtering and butchering Georgina - Do not get me wrong, Georgina is an absolutely wonderful cow. But here purpose is clear - beef. And I get to soon learn some very useful (well for my life goals) skills.
• Slaughtering and processing the meat birds - These chickens are not absolutely wonderful. They're dumb. Again, I will be able to learn a very useful skill (Dad: this means that I can slaughter your meat birds now -- hmmm? what do you say?)
• A half marathon --- we'll see how that goes
• Portland (I'll keep my fingers crossed)

What do I have to look forward to tomorrow? Well there's breakfast. There's coffee time. There's lunch. Oh, and dinner. The day I return to Ontario is going to be such an incredibly bitter-sweet day. The food, ohh the food -- will it ever be different. No longer will I walk a hundred feet with a kitchen knife in hand, to the gardens, then back to the kitchen. I'll have to be much more intentional. Eeeekkk. 

And I'll be a student again. I don't want to think about that. How on earth am I suppose to sit still that long? I bet my hands will be ridiculously clean. I'm glad that day is still somewhat far away. 

When I went on a farm tour in Port Townsend I went to a Walford school that was actually a functioning farm. Now doesn't that make sense? If I have kids (waaayyy in the future, oh goodness, if if if) they're going to school on a farm. 

Well I need to eat some food before the evening milking. 

Note: I feel awkward writing this thing. I feel like I am writing lots of boring, useless, irrelevant, uninteresting information. But this is my life. It's simple.

Rain

It's Sunday.
It's raining.
I'm listening to this song.
Ruby - Dave Rawlings Machine
You should listen to it.
I ate oatmeal for breakfast. I use a stainless steel mixing bowl to eat my oatmeal because the kitchen bowls are too small for my gigantic breakfasts.

In two weekends (Thanskgiving weekend) I am going to Vancouver to see a concert with someone from the farm. That's Friday night. On Sunday I will be running a half-marathon in Victoria. That will be an exciting weekend.

I'm here for another two months. A little bit more than that. That scares me. A lot.

During market yesterday I put out a bunch of books that were lying around the barn - with a sign that said, Free Books looking for a loving home. Please do not leave any books, BUT take as many as you'd like. Three quarters of the books were taken, and that makes me happy. Books are meant to read - not sit in cardboard boxes in a random room in the barn.

I'm going to go have a piece of pie.

One last thing -- I'm reading a collection of short stories called "Home Schooling" by Carol Windley. They're excellent. It's a series of stories about families, and the problems these families are facing. Dark, but truthful.

Okay -- now I am going to have a piece of pie.

Obligated

I blogged more when I didn't have more enjoyable things to do. This is not implying that people who are adamant about keeping an up-to-date blog have nothing better to do.

These are the more enjoyable things I have to do:

• Two days ago I learned to drive a tractor. I used it to dump sawdust. What a surprise huh?
• I went to Port Townsend in Washington last weekend to go on a farm tour. I also went to a Will Allen talk. Look him up on the internet.
• I swam in the ocean a couple of days ago. It was quite chilly but I was more impulsive than the weather was chilly.
• I ran fifteen kilometers this afternoon with the neighbour. I am signing up for a half-marathon in Victoria (which reminds me, I have to do that)
• Milk the cows - I still have to do that
• Eat wonderful meals cooked by all of the wonderful farm residents. I still do not like cooking. But that's okay. There's more to life. I enjoy baking though. And other miscellaneous kitchen tasks.

Also, to those dear friends and family who've written me. I really appreciate it. Thank you. It brightens up my day when I see mail for me and am reminded of all the people who love me.

Burning duties

I just broke the necks of three chicks. They were deformed, couldn't eat and were starving. Josie wouldn't kill them because she doesn't like killing chicks. I was sick of seeing them roll around in little circles. I've never killed an animal before. I was told, "Break their neck", so I did. Not a good feeling. Feel a little sick.

Sorry if you don't like the thought of chicks dying. That's just the way life goes sometimes.

Fatboy Slim and moldy colours

Today: 

• Harvest for the restaurants - Ulla, Brasserie, Empress and Zambris (in order of drop off)
• Treated to iced mochachino and peanut butter cookie with Rob. Chinatown, Victoria.
• Picked up Globe and Mail. The Times Colonist doesn't have real news. It doesn't have articles about the NDP leadership campaign. Instead it notifies you the weight of the biggest sockeye salmon caught on Labour Day weekend. 

This evening:

• Enjoyed corn on the cob with the delivery man and the "boss" (according to her mug)
• Read the Globe and Mail (parts of it)
• Downloaded music -- Fatboy Slim, The Sheepdogs, The Rolling Stones, Ralph Stanley and Jimmy Carter, The Notorious B.I.G and Tupac --- country and rap --- two music genres that I now like
• The big event this evening was revealing the gouda. I walked into the milking room and Susan said "Did you remember the gouda?" Hand over mouth. "No!" "Well, it's ready." Relief. Oh goodness, for a moment I thought I messed up the only hard cheese I have yet attempted. Well I looked at it, and mold every colour of the rainbow had claimed my gouda as it's new home. After washing off all of my gouda's new residents, the cheese was less colourful and more appealing. Then the best part of making cheese: cutting the first slice. Well, I'll let you know, it's official, I made gouda. This was an example of a successful abandoned cheese. Susan and I normally make abandoned cheeses. They're quite resilient. It feels quite splendid actually. I have learned a new skill. Successfully. I can make cheese.

Life on the farm is moving along. I no longer notice the passing of a week. I'm fully flung into the routine of a week. 

• Tuesday - restaurant harvest, Victoria delivery
• Wednesday - morning and evening milking, break in the middle of the day
• Thursday - morning milking, work till four
• Friday - market harvest
• Saturday - market
• Sunday - day off
• Monday - ride my bike to Sooke, drink an Americano while writing a letter at "The Stick", volunteer at Ayre Manor, ride my bike home

This is the flow of life for me at the moment. I feel quite lucky to be able to live such a simple, focused life right now. I think that I'm being enabled to appreciate the smaller things in life. Sitting on the patio watching the evening sky is an activity I commonly partake in. Being still, just sitting and breathing is something I have time to do. I consider myself fortunate. 

I do crave more though. I think this is partially an innate human condition, but also a fault of my own. An inability to be satisfied. I cannot find my satisfaction in community, in farming, in physical activity, in school, or by being an activist, an adventurer, beautiful, unique, or even by having perfect relationships, having success, or by having a significant other. I need to crave one thing and one thing only. Until the search I constantly am finding myself on is a search for the heart of God I'm going to be wandering in the dark. I'll be wandering through potlucks, gardens, concerts, and jogging trails. I don't want to be stumbling through life. I want to be walking with the Lord.

There's a little taste of sincerity. Now if you could only taste my gouda.

Normality

"We must pray that God will teach us to love those we do not like and then to like those he is teaching us to love." Jean Vanier

Today was normal. My days are all becoming normal. I'm becoming completely accustomed to Ragley farm. If I wasn't here, today would've been my first day back in class. Instead it was my first day milking a cow completely by hand. 

Good things:

• Letters
• Skype dates
• The ocean air
• Single speed bikes in the city
• Rice pudding
• Sun dresses
• Turnips

Bad things:

• Resentment
• Low self-confidence
• Waiting for things to "blow over"

Dairy bust

I ruined yogurt today. My queso fresco tastes weird. And the feta may be sketchy as well. Custard turned out okay. But really? One of four will not suffice.

Hmmph.

Scott Peck

"But there is a subtle yet crucial point beyond which we cannot 'go it alone' successfully - beyond which a sense of self-determination not only becomes prideful and begins to interfere with further spiritual growth but also denies reality." What Return Can I Make? - Scott Peck

Lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees. Stand up straight, and strong. Walk straight. Do it right so you will not be put out of joint. Walk in a way that will bring about healing.

Based on Hebrews 12: 12, 13

The way you walk may prevent injury, but it is God who heals your broken self.

Stuck in my head

Every morning for the past week I have woken up with Sean Hayes stuck in my head. Someone get him out (not cause I don't like him), cause I need variety.

Moondoggies - The Undertaker

Sean Hayes - Flowering Spade

Tomorrow - market. Biking to Sooke, bussing to Victoria. Going to a couple of house shows.

Sunday - Matheson Lake

Monday - Coffee date and helping with the day programs at Ayre Manor

Now - About to settle down for the night and watch a movie. Enjoyed stuffed zucchini for dinner. No more zucchini please. I know there are buckets and buckets still full in the barn, but a person can only handle so much zucchini. Gouda is ripening for two days, took it out of the brine solution earlier today. Bicycle is fixed (not my doing). Running partner has been found. Moon is out. Eggs are washed and ready for market. My day is done.

Accurate display of my life

Written by Jenna Woginrich

Written by Jenna Woginrich

Read her blog.

this is not a hobby

I am starting to cringe every time I hear the phrase Hobby Farm. I just hate the assumptions that surround the word, circling it like confused sharks. The idea that your backyard farm or small rural acreage is equivalent to your Tuesday night bowling team or bird-watching club really gets me. It is so much more.

Regardless of scale, growing food is a skill and a blessing. It is a timeless and honorable job that can do nothing but benefit the practitioner. This is true on every level: literally, socially, physically, emotionally. The work of raising animals, grains, fruits, eggs, fungi, fish and vegetables for your table is above the spinning classes and golf clubs. It is creating the source of your existence. It is learning to produce the energy to keep you alive. 

Now

Dinner: zucchini, romano beans, peppers, feta cheese (made by moi)
Currently making fruit cobbler. Climbed a ladder. Picked transparent apples. Collected blackberries. Picked strawberries. Peaches from down the road.
Listening to good soul music.

Day - improved.

Deliveries with Rob

Today I made the deliveries with rob. I was dubbed the "swamper".
He bought me a mochachino at Habit.
We looked for a birthday present at a kitchen store and bought a ten dollar chocolate bar to share.
Today was alright. I'm doing alright. I want to go to Portland. I want to go to Cumberland. I went to Victoria Christian Reformed Church on Sunday. I felt out of place. I biked half an hour to be picked up on the side of the road by a couple from the church, so I could get a 45 minute ride with them. After  church I followed them around Costco while they bought food I forgot existed. They have an adorable son, one year old. Maybe I can babysit and help them with their gardens. Their kale isn't doing too good.
The view from my bedroom window is becoming increasingly familiar. The three greenhouses, the ducks shed, the great ash and cedar trees, the dry pasture, and the ducks waddling.

That's really all I have to say.

Conversations with strangers

Often times at the market, people discover I live upstairs (in the barn) and give me their address, saying "drop by anytime". Most people do in fact mean it. Today (it's really horrible because I don't know her name - I'm brutal with names - but for the sake of the story it'll be Mel) Mel, who has been to the market before, was telling me how she lives in East Sooke, just down the road. Down the road implies further along the peninsula.Mel, like several others gave me her green number and said "drop by anytime". Seeing that I hadn't been to the end of the peninsula, and wanted to get some exercise, I biked to her place. I rode into her driveway, got off my biked and just stood there. At the end of the peninsula is a beautiful view of the ocean. Her and her husband don't live quite at the end, but it was good enough. After finishing a glass of water and an apple, we walked down to the ocean.
Sitting on a log, with this stranger, staring at the ocean, I thoroughly enjoyed her company. She works with fundraising for the Victoria hospital. All day Mel sits with seniors, drinking tea, who feel obliged to give back to the community that they love. Mel was saying that she gets to see the best of people, every day at work. It was a refreshing conversation, due to both the ocean breeze and the optimistic social commentary.
After our chat, we walked back to her house, I thanked her for the company, and I rode my bike home, flying up and down the winding hills of East Sooke, past the second generation firs and along the glimmering ocean water. I rode by the barn to the back of the property, to the gate between Ragley farm and Bev and Murray's. I walked right to the pond and jumped in.
Satisfied.

Wooden walls

This evening -- a movie and a tea.

Today -- market harvest. I've decided of my five work days, this one is my least favourite. We work as quickly as we can. Whatever doesn't get finished before one (with everyone's help), is left for me. I still need to wash sixty or so eggs. Not complaining -- just not incredibly fond of Friday's.

Tomorrow -- market.

Sunday -- going to China beach. Just North of Jordan River.

It feels more like home on the farm. The foggy mornings, and the noisy cows. The often occupied kitchen, and endless supply of one thing at a time (last week zucchini was in everything - this week we've been eating the salmon that Vivi, Susan, and Josie caught). I put on my work clothes every morning. I put the kettle on before I do anything else. Tea is important, and finishing my tea in the morning is critical to the success of a day.

Milking Nell and Ginger goes smoothly now. I don't spill on the floor when I'm pouring milk anymore. I know where everything is in the garden. I know who I'm talking to on the phone when I call Sooke Harbour House for their order. I can find all the lights in the barn.

I still don't know whose shovels belong to who. I don't know the names of the creeks and rivers nearby where everyone fishes. I can't find all the spices in the kitchen. I still pour slightly more or slightly less milk into the jars than I am suppose too.

But I'm getting there. I keep learning lots. I'm trying not to get itchy feet. Enjoy my stay - however long it may be.

Stary nights and chocolate zucchini cake

Today:

• I ate pink salmon that Vivi, Susan and Josie caught yesterday
• I shovelled sawdust - big surprise
• Restaurant harvest
• Laughed at puns - multiple times - while weeding purslane joked about how we were getting to the root of the problem - you don't need to tell me - I know puns are the best thing to have ever happened to humanity
• Drove the van with Josie to the big city -- we dared to leave the Ragley Farm bubble -- and delivered freshly picked vegetables to Brasserie, the Empress (which is a restaurant movie stars go to - for real), and Zambris
• I bought tea and chocolate, two incredibly important things for my sanity

This evening:

• I ate pork chops
• I made chocolate zucchini cake
• I was overtaken by the beauty of the stars while listening to this song (Vice Rag by A.A. Bondy) with the other farm dweller

There are some bits of pieces of my day

new growth

Burning Fog

This morning, I woke up to the milking machine. I slept in. Kind of. Strawberries, yogurt and oatmeal. Earl  grey tea too. But I slept in so I didn't finish it. Harvested lettuce first thing - as per usual on harvest day. Lettuce isn't growing as much. Twenty five pounds today. Then I picked beans. Bell rang for coffee break at ten. I made an announcement regarding my missing black swiss army knife (I found it under a newspaper on a coach while sweeping the lounge). I also drank my coffee. Cowboy style (black? according to Rob - my fellow chocolate lover). Back to work. Picked more beans. Then I picked the last of the arugula bed. Cherry tomatoes, fancy tomatoes. Tomatoes are in the greenhouse - I was in greenhouse two. Washed lettuce. Tried calling Sooke Harbour House multiple times to get their order. I finally got it and we had to go harvest more veggies. Lunch bell. Beet burgers with zucchini salsa. Scarfed 'em down so I could get back to work and end earlier. Then I was done. And Jen, Drew and I went for a swim in the pond. Oh goodness - that sun is good. We lied on the grass soaking in those good rays. Went back in the pond was we were too warm. Drew threw a rock at me and it hit me in the eye.

Jen and I decided that Ragley farm should have a sitcom, no we decided on a series - called The Gravel Road. I don't know where the title came from. It popped into her head. It's going to be about vegetable pickers. And I expect that there will be lots of puns in our series - seeing that puns are great, and require much wit (which we'll worry about later). Every episode will end with farm animal noises. Reason? No clue.

Tomorrow is market. I'll also be seeing a treeplanter friend who is dropping by in the morning. After market will be Bev and Murrey's annual barbeque. Apparently he uses his excavator to swing kids into the pond. There will be smokies too. I'm sure I'll have my fair share. The next day I may go kayaking with someone I've never met before - a woofer from Miranda's farm. Sunday evening is a different party. Monday everyone from work is going fishing. We're going to try to catch sockeye salmon. If we succeed it will be wonderful - if we don't, it will probably still be wonderful.

And that has been my day.

Oh! Good news. Josie, Susan and I had a "business meeting". They like me. That's nice, huh? And it's possible for me to stay on the farm till December. I'm also going to start volunteering at Ayre Manor. I'm going to be helping them with their day programs!

Well there's an update. An event update. Not a soul update. To get one of those I require a written letter. A blog is to public for a soul update. Skype calls work too I guess.

Well readers - ha, readers - thanks for reading.

Short and consise

August sixteenth:

- Harvested two heaping wheel barrows of garlic with Gillian and Andrea

- Shared a meal of corn on the cob and beef stew with Josie

- Went for my daily swim

- Just remembered my laundry is in Josie and Rob's washing machine. Hmmm.

- Harvested fingerling potatoes for the first time

- Shovelled sawdust (what a surprise)

- My vase of flowers fell off of my window sill twice

- Harvested tomatoes, zucchini, green beans, and cucumbers

- Completed my volunteer application to Ayre Manor, a retirement/nursing home in Sooke

This is the extent of excitement in my day. I'm satisfied.

The way I actually earn money is by shovelling sawdust from underneath the wood mizer. When Rob handed me my pay today he said, "Now don't go wasting it." Rob is a man who spends his pension on chocolate. We get along. He let me know when there was only one chocolate croissant left during coffee break today. I shared my chocolate bar with him yesterday.  It works.

...

Right now I can see Vivi and all of her ducklings outside. She's saying, "No no, everybody inside," with her Venezuelan accent. Here is the duckling dilemma: Last year ravens ate 30 ducklings. Vivi expected this to happen again, but the mama duck's are better mothers this year and have successfully prevented the ravens from snatching up the ducklings. Now Vivi has almost 60 ducklings. For now it's okay, but once they get bigger, well she doesn't have room for them. That's the duckling dilemma.

...

My bedroom

Friends come in the strangest of places.

Today:
- Swam in the neighbours pond
- Milked the cows
- Made feta, ice cream and custard
- Ate pork-chops (living here is making me love meat - so much good meat)
- Watched a movie
- Laughed a lot
- Was chased by 45 ducklings, only to escape through the milking room door to get them off my back
- Looked at the moon and the stars
- Slept in

Wednesday. That means it's dairy day. I woke up (at least tried to) at six this morning, scarffed down a bowl of oatmeal and got through half a cup of tea. Today has been a little off.

Monday was Victoria Day. I took the public bus into the city. I wandered around, with my downtown Victoria map. There were two places I wanted to go to: Russel Books and the library. You see, when it comes down to it, I'm really an exciting person. Well I've got a temporary library card now. Beat that. And Russel Books - it's a very large, very wonderful used book store. I was reading Scott Peck, and though I wanted so badly to buy one of his books - I resisted the urge and left the store.
*This is what I wrote in my journal about Scott Peck. "Scott Peck, man, the few words I read of his not only acknowledged doubt in Christian faith, but accepted it - almost approved it. 'It's okay.' People cry out to God out of loneliness in Psalms all the time. Fear though - that's dangerous. To be afraid of your doubts, afraid of your lack of faith - it's dangerous. I don't want to draw near to God out of fear. I want to draw near to him ou of love, because of a friendship and a closeness."
I went to two coffee shops that day. One was recommended to me, and had a shockingly good Americano. The other was in Chinatown (Canada's OLDEST Chinatown) and was kind of ridiculous. I have two other cafes dotted on my little map, and those will be my next Victoria stops. Monday ended with wings at the 17 Mile House. Monday is wing night. Everyone from the farm goes to the pub; we all eat wings and drink beer, and get home nice and early for work the next day.

Tuesday was interesting. I think it's beginning to set in that this is where I will be for the next, bahh I don't know. I had an intense conversation. About astrotheology. And monotheism. My brain hurt afterwards. It was an exhausting conversation. I was asked, "How at the end of the day, does being a Christian change things?" That doesn't sound like the most challenging question to answer, but it's a very real question to be asked by someone in perhaps the first real conversation you've ever had with them. After we got back to the farm I turned my music up very loud (listening to my i-pod) and shovelled the sawdust from underneath the wood-mizer as fast as I could. It felt great. Then I went to the greenhouse and pulled bolted arugula out in record-breaking time. Interpret that how you'd like to.

Today I may Queso Fresco (a medium temperature cheese which uses mesophylic culture - woop dee doo). I also cleaned out the milking foyer, the proper name for a milking room. I have a break part-way through the day because at six o'clock I need to do the milking again. I went to the neighbours and swam in their pond.

My days are really simple. Nothing too exciting happens. Bikerides and going out for coffee are perhaps the most exciting things that happen to me. I'm a farm hand. I do the odd jobs that need to be done. It's not incredibly exciting. But I like it. I enjoy the simplicity. It makes me think. My brain is working awfully hard for not being in school - for pulling weeds, cutting the roots off of fennel, weighing chard, scrubbing conrete floors, and shovelling sawdust. It's a little unnerving. And uncomfortable. But it's what trying to be genuine looks like. I think.

P.S Vivi just gave me flowers. That's sweet, huh? I thought so.

One Week

I've completed my first week of work. After arriving here on Monday, and meeting the crew at 17 Mile Pub, straight off the bus, for a night of wings, it's a work week later. I've seen what I'll be seeing for the next "who knows" weeks.
A substantial discovery:

This flower - Baby's breath. It's in Vivi's garden, and I love it.

Yesterday evening I biked down to Park Height's road and hiked to the ocean. I got a desire to see the ocean, see something open, and be the only person there. I hiked in, after locking my bike up to a tree on the border of a ditch and a forest. The trees thinned eventually and there it was. I had myself a nice little private picnic then and there. I was satisfied. Moment's like that are what I wanted from this place, this experience. And in a way I felt achievement.

Today was market. That's what everything builds up to. It's a time when Ragley Farm makes it's money (though that's by no means it's purpose). I'm being trained the in's and out's of the place - how to make cheese, harvest the vegtables, write up invoices, call restaurants, set-up the market, milk the cows, clean the barn, etc. It was satisfying to see Ragley Farm (it's habitants and products) in action. There was a flower stand, dairy stand, a room full of home-baked goods and home-grown veggies. The lounge/sunroom in the barn is temporarily changed into a cafe. There's coffee, soup, and muffins.  People hurry into the market (There's a line-up before it opens and the ringing of the bell announces the beginning of the market). People buy their food. Then they sit. And they chat. And they socialize. They sit on the porch and talk about community events happening in Sooke, ask eachother about gardens, or the successes or failures of a bull being with a cow in heat. It's a community event.

After the market, the pace of the farm slows down drastically. I just spent two hours drinking a homemade stout and reading a book. Feet up, shoes off.
*I didn't even intend to choose a book that discusses L'Arche and Jean Vanier - but I did. It's official. I can't help it that all the books I read have to do with the same thing.
Jean Vanier said something quite appropriate in this book (The Boy in the Moon by Ian Brown, incase you're interested), "There was something in me that wanted a commitment to people, and not ideas." Well here's a quote I didn't know what to think about. Here I am, at a farm, trying to learn about farming, trying to get to know God better, trying to believe in myself more. I can't expand too much more on that, well because I just tried too, and I haven't figured out a way to do it that's understandable (I wrote this sentence after writing/erasing several other ones).

I now have two days off. Sunday is my bike touring day. I'll go for a hike in East Sooke Park again, maybe the Anderson Cove trail or the Endurance Ridge trail. Monday is Victoria Day (for some reason I have been giving all my days titles, eg; dairy day, veggie day, market day, etc.). If I don't give myself a break from the farm, or experience a little variety I am afraid I'll go a little crazy. Also my first impression of Victoria wasn't too great. I was overwhelmed, and rushing everywhere. I fell face first into the sidewalk infront of a group of tourists who didn't say a word (just stared) as a consequence of rushing. I figured I should give it another try.

Well I'm going to go back to my stout (don't worry mom, it's only one bottle), and back to my book. Wish me luck (especially on riding up the hills on a bike with one gear) and prayers too - those don't hurt.

From August Third

Here's an entry from my journal...

I made cheese today, with mesophylic bacterial culture which requires a medium temperature. I forget the name of the cheese Susan and I made (I remembered: Queso Fresco). We also milked the cows and picked thistles - not an overly hard day but a long one. It started at 6 am and ended at 8:30 pm.
....


August Fourth:
Starting the day at seven today - with the cows. Granola and yogurt. Earl Grey tea. Becoming accustomed to Ragley Farm will take a little while. For now I am a "sponge" as Josie noted earlier. I suck up and absorb all the informaiton I can. Believe me, there's a lot of information to know.
3:30 I get a break till six now. Then I start work again. .... Something good about this place: it's gentle - it lacks harsh things. I hope the characteristics of the surrounding nature rub off on me. .... Milked the cows - BY MYSELF - WOOP DE DOO.

Present time: Market is tomorrow. Sunday and Monday are my days off, and I am beginning to feel like I could use a day off. Though I am not worked hard, I work constantly. Living where I work, and being in the country with no means of transportation other than a bike means that I don't get a tonne of different scenery. I think Monday I'll bus into Victoria and buy a chocolate bar. A good one. I rode a bike to the general store and there was no good chocolate. That's what I want right now. Chocolate.

That's all. I'm tired and forcing my brain to think creatively is too much right now. I'm going to go read in the sunroom until it's time to get the garlic ready for the market.

Then I'll sleep. Last night a strange bug kept me awake. I tried killing it for a while, eventually succeeding. Hopefully that doesn't happen again.

Tomorrow

Well here I am, tomorrow is the day. Off to the farm I go - with the help of public transit. Plane, sky train, bus and foot. That's my mode of transportation. It will be quite the trip. It will end outside of Bill's Food and Feeds where the last bus I take will drop me off. Whitehorse has been great. Good friends and family, alongwith good food (last night we went out for mexican). Tonight will be our farewell campfire meal. One sister I won't see till December, the other I won't see till February.

My summer has been one full of challenges, as well as one full of new adventures, faces and kinds of enjoyment. Now I am off to another adventure. After this one hopefully I'll know much more about milking cows, harvesting vegetables and keeping bees, as well as more about myself.

Next time I add to this thing it will be from Vancouver Island. The sun will set at a normal time, the bugs will be bearable, and my thumb will be green (I'll keep my fingers crossed).

 (Near the peak of Raven Lake, B.C on July 31st - a cold, crisp mountain peak - a break between planting contracts)

Kluane National Park

Eight days of trekking in the beautiful St. Elias mountain range. Only pure joy could have followed. The seven of us were often mesmerized by the sheer beauty and power of nature. Back at Robert Service Campground we're resting and enjoying eachtothers company before we all go our separate ways.

Jocelyn, Jeremy, Danielle and Jordan will be heading West, back to Ontario.

Colleen and Phil North back to Inuvik

And myself --- I'm heading South to Sooke. To Ragley Organic Farms.

Soon to be back in wild west

Waking up early. Packing my lunch. Eating breakfast. Hopping in the Ford Heavy Duty 250s. Soon this will be the life I live. I am wonderfully excited to be working hard with my hands in the soil and my body in the wilderness, my mind in solitude. Till then I have the wonderful pleasure of helping my lovely friend celebrate the beginning of her marriage. 

I have lemon squares in the oven at this very moment and I stayed up till two last night sewing her card. Yes, sewing, or stitching.... that idea. 

I want a farm

One day I'll have one. Till that day comes I look at Cold Antler Farm pictures.

First of few

This is my first blog entry. Will I ever use this? Perhaps - maybe to keep in contact with dear friends while I explore the world around. We'll see. Till then, this is the one and only entry, hopefully they'll be more to keep it company.