The evening before farm tour is always a disaster. We are cross with each other, everything feels undone, and there is never, ever enough time. Warwick and I were working til the last rays of sun provided a feeble light, then by tractor and forklift lights. I would have said we were well prepared a few weeks ago, but then the evening of, it’s all amiss. “This is it, the last year. It’s just too much work, why do we put ourselves through this?”
Then the dawn came clear and sunny, a good breakfast In our bellies, a few last touches and the gates open, cars begin to roll down the driveway a full 15 minutes before opening bell… sigh. Here we go, ready or not.
The floodgate of humanity opened and suddenly there were people everywhere. Smiling, complimentary, engaging and curious. Skippy stood in the middle of the drive at one point in a face-off with the school bus – she went and spent the rest of the day in the house. The kittens were on lock down in their cage, not happy but safe from the wheeled madness of many cars and many less parking spots. Yet, all was happy. Mac, arm in sling from a dislocated shoulder, started leading tours, I led tours, Warwick led tours, the schedule went out the window. I watched the children laugh as they climbed on the hay, remembering how our boys used to do the same. I listened to new stories about our farm from neighbors that are now friends. The touch table of garden plants was a hit, amaranth bringing newfound joy to others, wee seeds stowed in pockets to take home for their own. Spero performed adequately on the first muster of the day, demonstrating some skills but ultimately getting the job done as we always do. She improved as the day went on, performing beautifully in front of the large afternoon throng, when bringing the lambs and pets up from the big front hay field.
I told stories until I was hoarse. I laughed. Jackson patiently demonstrated again and again the basics of wool felting, selling his wares, telling his stories, gaining confidence and poise with each passing hour. We talked sheep and beef, watersheds and beavers, trout and bass, best ways to destroy blackberries, lambs and hay. We talked frankly about slaughter and why I don’t like the animals I’ve raised since birth to have to be hauled away to face USDA cutting requirements. We talked about lamb stew, halibut with a Dijon mustard, butter, garlic cilantro sauce and Panko crust; short ribs slow cooked with lemon and capers; Filet Mignon flavor from grass vs. grain, farm fresh eggs and bone in lamb chops covered in an Asian pear, mint, kiwi salsa. We then drank more water, and satiated appetites with a quick hit of Halloween candy. Old customers visited, and we finally got to meet face to face but felt already like family.
We walked the fields and saw Teddy the Scottish Highlander month old fuzz ball calf, the
clearing nearly ready for seeding, the back, hay field with it’s neat rows of planted seeds from
the no till drill, the waterfall, the ravine, the enchanted forest and green grassy fields full of
very happy sheep.
Amy was a godsend, taking down names, handing out the flyers she had so capably prepared,
and directing folks to the web page and social media sites she has so lovingly and perfectly
crafted for us.
Finally, 4pm and just a few stragglers rolling in grateful and considerate, and then we were
alone. The kittens ran like wildfire, purr boxes on loud. Dogs were fed, sheep all returned to
their fields, gates checked.
And at the end of day, we all realized that perhaps it wasn’t us that was giving to others by
opening the farm today. But instead, it was the community giving back to us, the appreciation
of what we do, the reinforcement that what we do matters, and how we do it is valued. Thank
you to all who support local farms and know and care where their food comes from. It means
the world the folks like us that are just trying to get it right. Families like ours that are trying to
build a legacy for ourselves and our community. Well done Farm Council, well done Key
Peninsula. We are once again reminded of how very lucky we are to live here.
We felt so guilty coming up so late in the day, but it was such a pleasure to see where our freezers full of meat come from, and to meet the awesome family that raises it all and more. Thank you for doing the very important jobs you’re doing!!!
Excellent write up. So wish I could have come fir a few hours. Maybe not next year, but one day….
Always enjoy seeing your farm and you and your family are rays of sunshine!!
Thanks for opening your gates to all of us-Diane Jones
Make a more new posts please 🙂
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Sanny