Tag: gardening

Starting Over with a Little Sparkle

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

“It just seems wrong to pull up the strawberry plants,” I said to Ron.

“Sometimes, you just have to start over,” he said.

Strawberry plants only produce strawberries for three to five years. Our beds of Sparkle strawberries managed to make it five years, though the berries were definitely smaller this year. We probably should have pulled them last year, but it seems so wrong to pull plants (just thinning in the garden breaks my heart). Still, this year, there was no avoiding it.

I read that you can plant new strawberries in the late summer and early fall and get strawberries the next spring. In the past, we have planted in the spring and would have to go a season without berries, as you have to pull the flowers and give the plants time to get established before you let them make berries. I hope this fall-planting plan works because going a year without strawberries just feels impossible to me at this point. I mean, just look at this picture of our berries from 2022. How can I go a year without this?

It was a sad thing to do though–ripping out the plants. Because we just let the weeds go after strawberry season, when we were clearing out the beds last week, there were also about a million weeds. And, within those weeds and strawberry plants, a whole world of wildlife was living. There were worms and spiders and so many magnificent frogs. As we stripped each bed of its habitat, I felt most worried about the frogs. I met five frogs in total that day, and as each one hopped away, Ron distracted the ducks. One time, I saw what ducks will do to a frog, and I never want to see that again.

When I looked at the empty beds, there was a great deal of sadness, but I really wanted more strawberries next summer, I tried to think about the good things that would be coming from starting over.

I had a hard time finding strawberry plants so late in the summer. I could find some but not the kind I wanted–Sparkle.

When I found out the places in Maine and Vermont where we had bought plants in previous years didn’t have Sparkle, I figured I would have to settle for a different variety of berries, but as I read about all the other varieties available, none of them seemed as good as the Sparkle variety. Sparkle strawberries are sturdy for Maine but are also known for fantastic flavor and shape. How could I settle for anything less when I’ve already had Sparkle?

Thankfully, I found Sparkle berries at an Etsy shop. After we cleared the beds, Ron replenished the soil with compost, and then I spent the next two days planting. The plants were beautiful, and only a few looked a little “iffy” in terms of making it. The kind seller sent extra plants, and I managed to squeeze in every last one, even the few that looked a little rough. I hoped for the best.

I am happy to report that every single one of those plants seems to be making it, and we are getting to start over with 127 beautiful Sparkle strawberry plants!

The starting over with the strawberries feels so symbolic to me right now. After a summer of long COVID, our whole family is making progress. Our crashes are rarer and less intense. We are able to get more things done and enjoy life more, and that’s just the best. I haven’t had to crawl up the stairs in over a month, and I haven’t slurred my words in at least two weeks. And my son is gradually returning to his cello, and my heart is joyful.

Interestingly, his teacher is teaching him the Hadyn Cello Concerto No. 1, and I swear, it’s so joyful–and sparkly. It has been so uplifting listening to him work through the first part of that concerto every evening.

And with all of this hopefulness in the air, I have good news to share. I am planning to bring back Farmer-ish journal next year. In fact, in the coming weeks, the website is going to either go down or look very wonky, as I work to update the site. Hopefully, taking the lessons I have learned and starting over will lead to a little sparkle there too.

In the meantime, I’m watching those strawberry plants and listening to Haydn on the cello every day because, sometimes, you just gotta start over.

Slowly–an Update

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

It has been far too long since I have written! We have been busy around here with the usual summer work. It’s blueberry season right now here in Maine, and it has been a good one. Just ask the birds in our yard. They will confirm that our blueberry bushes were loaded with berries this year!

Some years, when we see the birds eating all of the berries, we will net the berries, but we haven’t had the heart to do it the last couple of years. It just seems like the birds have generally shared some with us, and we have to worry constantly about a bird getting caught in the net. Over the years, we had two birds caught in the net, even though we mark the nets with bright colors and weave bright yarns across the tops. Thankfully, both times, we helped the birds escape the net, but we always worry what would happen if we weren’t home or just didn’t notice a trapped bird.

This year, a family of Robins and a very large family of Mourning Dove have eaten almost every last berry. We got about a quart and a half. I estimate they have had about six quarts so far, so they are not sharing very well this year.

Thanks to the birds, I am making my favorite breakfast this summer using blueberries from another farm. I really, really love blueberries and oatmeal.

We eat a lot of blueberries throughout the winter, so Ron and I made a trip north to our favorite blueberry farm in the middle of nowhere and spent last Friday picking berries all day. I noticed we were slower than ever before, especially me. Our family is making progress with this long COVID stuff, but it has been hard to spend the summer so tired and so worn. Still, we are slowly getting things done.

We have put up strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, broccoli, cauliflower, and turnips so far. I have also made jams and jellies, and we have eaten something fresh from the garden every single night since the first of June–spinach, lettuce, radishes, berries, and kohlrabi so far. We have also raised and processed 26 meat chickens, and I have 8 dozen eggs in the freezer for winter. I need to get about 4 more dozen.

Of course, because we are so slow at everything (in particular I am slow at everything) I haven’t had time to write. I’m just barely getting by this summer, but I am thankful to be getting by.

We were so slow picking the blueberries on Friday that I marveled we were going to have to make two trips. I was just too tired to pick enough for the winter in one trip. Still, Ron and I were diligent and did our best. We are learning that, some days, that’s all you can do–your best. And we’ll go back for more blueberries this coming Friday.

I feel I should also update readers in other ways because it has been just so long. I’ll start with a Ruby update. She’s as sassy as ever, and she finally un-broodied herself. This is the first summer of her life that I haven’t let her raise a clutch of chicks. It took her nearly two months to accept the fact that there would be no babies this year, but she has accepted. Still, as I was celebrating Ruby finally breaking herself from being broody, Saint-Saens has decided to go broody, as has Petty. Petty is such a good mom. It’s hard to deny her, but we’ll try to plan for next year.

Mary Jane and Rooster are still hanging in there, but Hector has water belly. She is very young, so this means she does not have good genetics, and it’s heartbreaking. However, I did a small drain last week and will do another one this week. Hopefully, we can keep her going and comfortable for a few more months. She’s such a magnificent girl. What a crappy deal she got. I guess that’s how it goes. Sometimes, you just get a crappy deal.

With crappy deals in mind, I had to leave the farm last week and fly to see my brother in Oklahoma because he is so sick. I cannot say a lot here, but he’s way too young. He definitely got a crappy deal too.

Oh, and the night before I had to fly to Oklahoma, we lost our first duck ever. I was devastated. I will have to write more about it, but it was our mean girl. She lived a good long life though, and while I am sure it felt like a crappy deal in the end, she handled it with grace. I hope to handle my death with such grace. I swear, it was like she knew she was moving on.

I hope you are all doing well, and I hope to start writing more this week. I am so glad to be home from my travels and back with my family–the human and furry kind. I somehow managed to sprain my ankle, so it’s forcing me to move even more slowly–and also sit and write a bit.

It feels good to get back to it.

The first raspberries, the last strawberries, and other updates

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Mary Jane made it to the raspberries for another year! I hoped she would this spring when I was thinning the branches. She sat with me for hours, looking hopeful for raspberries. I think raspberries might be her favorite–maybe even more than watermelon. This morning, when I picked raspberries for breakfast, I kept out a handful just for her. She gobbled them up with satisfaction. I can tell she surely knows how much I love her.

I am hopeful for the raspberries. They look really good this year, and we need a good year after our strawberries did not do so well. I don’t know if it was just a weird year or if our plants are about done. I think it’s the latter. We have had five great seasons with those plants. I read they should be replaced after three to five years, so I guess it’s time. I think we will try to replace them in the fall, so we can hopefully have berries again next summer. That’s a big task though. Hopefully, I will be up to it. And it wasn’t a terrible year for them. I still made two batches of jam and got five quarts frozen for the winter.

Things have been busy here on the farm this summer but not nearly as busy as usual. Ron has been slow and steady planting the garden and just finished planting the last of things this week. It’s the latest he’s ever finished planting, but COVID has take a toll on all of us for sure. And, with long COVID in mind, we have no music camps this summer for our son. He just rests a lot, sleeps a lot, and I can see that he tries to stay positive. It was hopeful that he started playing his cello again this week, though he has to pace himself and can’t play more than 15 minutes per day. Still, slow and steady, right?

I am less busy than usual with the chickens because we had no babies this year. It’s been hard. The babies always bring so much joy, so long COVID plus no baby chicks has equalled a bit of a tough summer. On the bright side, I have been working on a Swedish death cleanse (though I hope I am not dying anytime soon), and I have made amazing progress. My struggle is books though. How can I get rid of books? I have more work to do, but our home is feeling much better, much less cluttered.It’s very helpful to my mental state.

We have still have our son’s pet mouse, who requires a lot of attention because mice are social animals and need company. I have also learned that mice will eat pretty much as much as you give them, so our little mouse has grown a little chubby eating so many treats from the garden along with homemade bread. I knew we were in trouble the first time I gave him some homemade bread and a fresh strawberry on the same day. He was half asleep with the bread in his hand and the strawberry right next to him. I watched as he would wake up, take a few bites of each item, get a joyful look on his face, and go back to sleep. I also had no idea mice were SO expressive, but he is!

He has a wheel, but we are going to have to build a bigger space for him–and in the last two days, he’s just had his mouse food and lettuce. Poor baby!

I have also been writing, just not as much as I would like here in the blog. I am actually working on a book. It’s a collection of essays, some of which I am revising from old blog posts and some of which are new. I plan to call it Chicken Stories, and I hope it will be worthy of a read. We’ll see. I hope to have it finished by the end of December. I will take any and all advice as well as words of encouragement.

Tell me how you’re doing if you get a chance. How is your garden growing? How are your chickens? What are you learning this year? And do you know anything about raising a mouse?

In My Hands

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

On Monday, I was picking strawberries in my apron and was struck by how beautiful the freshly-picked berries looked against my apron. Of course, I had to take a picture. Later, I was kneading dough for dinner and thought it was so beautiful too, so I took a picture. I ended up deciding it would be cool to take pictures of the amazing things in my hands on an average day here on our little farmstead. I hope these make you smile!

These were the very first strawberries of the season, and they symbolize so much hope and joy for me. They are the most beautiful to me!

I was making tortillas for dinner and thought about how beautiful dough is. I have large hands, which used to bother me when I was young, but now that I work on our farmstead–and am learning to play cello–I am thankful for large hands.

The first radishes! There have been no worms this year, which is kind of amazing! The snails have eaten the green beans and carrots, but the radishes have been spared the worms!

The spinach and lettuces have been excellent this year. I thinned them early and have been working hard to give them space all spring. It has worked. Look at this lettuce! And that’s Saint-Saens in the background really wanting some. She got some, of course!

Ruby is broody, as she does. Because we cannot have any baby chicks this year, I keep taking the eggs from her, and she keeps pecking me as much as she can over it. One day, I saw she was on nine eggs. On this day, there were just three.

And this one is a very long story. A couple of weeks ago, my teenage son rescued a baby mouse that had blown into our driveway after a storm. It was nearly dead, and I thought it was definitely going to die. However, my son stayed up with that mouse, who still had its little eyes closed, and fed it every two hours the first night. Somehow, that little mouse made it, and now we have a mouse friend. I know the risks of rescuing a wild animal, and I am generally opposed to this kind of thing. It’s a long story that I hope to tell soon that this little mouse, named Jeremiah Benjamin von Kangle Wangle (because he kangles and wangles and also seems to be able to teleport), is with us. He’s very, very sweet.

Homesteading Progress: Preserving Food and Saving on Grocery Costs

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

Yesterday, we ate the second to the last jar of pears that I put up last fall. Last fall was my first time to can pears, and I was so nervous about doing it. But our two little trees made a bumper crop, and I had always wanted to can my own pears. I love canned pears. I like fresh pears, but I love canned pears.

I love them extra now because I now understand that the canned pears at the grocery store are a little too soggy and definitely too sweet for my taste. And that’s the best part about canning your own pears–you can make them as soft or crunchy as you like and as sweet or as not sweet as you like!

Of course, there are other best parts about canning your own pears. It’s just awesome to be able to preserve food yourself, and I love that there is almost no waste. I no longer have to throw away cans. These glass jars will be reused year after year, and only the lids will have to be replaced. And, once I make the switch the Weck jars for all of my canning, I won’t even throw away the lids because Weck jar use glass lids.

I certainly realize that I am not going to make a big difference in the grand scheme of things because I am not throwing away cans (there is no longer recycling in my area and in many areas throughout the U.S.), but it does make me feel better–and that definitely counts for something, right?

But I do feel there is a bigger picture that these pears represent. These cans of pears represent a growing self sufficiency we have, and it has saved us financially as groceries have become so expensive. I follow food news quite a bit, and I read a lot of what farmers write. I think there are a couple of things causing the high costs of groceries–climate change and monopolies–and I don’t see either one of these issues being addressed at all. I expect groceries are, in general, going to stay very expensive, though I hope there will be some relief if families continue to struggle.

It was over 20 years ago that I watched a documentary on climate change that really stuck with me. The film showed what grocery costs would be like “in the future.” The future was 2025. I remember studying the program so carefully as the narrator spoke about how difficult it would be for people to afford fresh fruits and vegetables in the future, how everything would be more expensive due to crop failures and the rise in costs of fuel. I can’t remember the name of the program, but I guess the content really stuck with me. I watched that documentary in 2002, and 10 years later, I was trying to homestead and learning how to grow and put up food, much like my great grandparents did–only I have much to learn.

I’m working on it though. These pears represent my progress, and this year, I can see we need more pears. We planted two more pear trees this year, bu , of course, it will be a few years before those little trees bear fruit. In the meantime, my plan for this fall is find a u-pick orchard with pears and get some pears for cheap and add those to what we grow.

This is the time of year when we start to run out of food from last year’s harvest. We ran out of pears, so we need to make a plan for more this coming year. We also ran out of frozen blueberries like a month ago, so we have a pretty big gap there. We also ran out of broccoli, so that’s something we want to address this year. We are also just about out of pizza sauce, so I will have to be sure to process more tomatoes, peppers, and onions into pizza sauce this coming August and September. I want to take extra steps and do as much as I can because I know food costs are likely to just get worse.

What we do not or cannot grow ourselves, I have learned to track down in local farms. I have found that the best cost savings can be found on farms that specialize in what you need, let you pick the food yourself, and do not offer “experience” events or ice cream stands. I love those experience farms too, but when I need to save money, I know to look for something a bit different. If you are looking to save money on food, this is a plan that works.

First, grow as much as you can based on what you and your family will really eat. If you are working full time and can only grow a little, pick two or three crops that you know will serve you well and produce a lot of food–like green beans or potatoes.

Second, find the farmers, the ones that offer good prices if you get out there and pick the food yourself. Not only will this save you money, it’s quite fun to visit farms and pick food with your family. You will get sweaty and dirty, but it’s such good work. Plus, I have seen such beautiful parts of Maine doing this.

Third, start learning how to can foods. It’s easier than you think, and you can do a lot with simple water baths. I am able to put up fruits and sauces using water baths only, but I did finally get a pressure canner. When I first started learning to can, I didn’t have anyone to teach me. If you have someone willing to teach you in person, take the time to make that happen. I feel like hands on learning is so much easier, but if you are like me and do not have someone to teach you in person, I highly recommend The Ball Book of Canning and Preserving, and I learned the most from the following fantastic videos from Magnolia Workshops.

Water Bath Canning

Pressure Canning

I hope this post inspires you to take some steps toward self sufficiency this summer if you can. I think knowing how to preserve food is important, and I think it’s going to be one of those skills we will all be thankful for both right now and in the long run. Putting up your own food saves you money and gives you and your family easy access to real, good food. And I am convinced there is not much else more important than this. I hope to continue to write about our food and what we do. We have many gaps to fill, but I am proud of our progress. I think the key is to just take things one step at a time.

Start small and keep growing!

Mary Jane, Raspberries, and Trying to Be a Good Human

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

I haven’t written in a bit because it’s on right now for spring planting and preparation. I will have to write more about this soon, but Ron has had some health struggles related to his round with COVID. Tests are ongoing, and I am hopeful all will be well; however, he’s been moving slower than before, which means he needs more help to get the epic tasks of spring completed.

Last week, my task was to prune all the fruit trees and bushes. Pruning the blueberries is easy. Pruning the raspberries is tough because, as you know, raspberry bushes are prickly and mean. I have learned to wear a thick coat and thick gloves, but they still attack my hair. Sometimes, I just end up stuck. During harvest in June and July, I always wish for more raspberry bushes, but when I am pruning, I am thankful we have just about a 25-foot row. The whole process is normally very frustrating to me, but it wasn’t too bad this year because I had good company.

Mary Jane loves raspberries more than I can express. She has two favorite foods that I have discovered–raspberries and oatmeal with raisins. Come to think of it, maybe it’s just raisins, but raspberries are her joy every summer.

She is doing pretty well despite her very old age and meat bird DNA. If she makes it to age 7, which happens in just three weeks, I’m convinced she has to be close to a record for a Freedom Ranger meat bird. I mean, she’s definitely showing her age, and I think surely she won’t make it through a long, hot summer. However, we switched feed to some awesome organic feed I found from Vermont, and it seems to have given her an extra little boost. It’s really good food, and Mary Jane has a really strong will to live, which, if you follow this blog, you know so well. It seems like a hopeful combination. Mary Jane will turn 7 on June 1.

Anyway, I was down on the ground fighting through the prickly branches to get to the back side of our row of when I saw Mary Jane watching me so hopefully.

“Oh, baby, I have no raspberries yet,” I told her. “But I’m doing this, so you can have some soon.”

And it was exactly that thought that made me feel less grumpy about all of the raspberry bush attacks on my hair. Seeing that hopeful face reminded me that there is joy coming. There is some pain now. My hair was pulled about a million times, and I was sweating like crazy on the hot day wearing my coat and gloves, and oh my gosh my poor back–but the reward is coming. Mary Jane reminded me of that, and she made me think about my place in the world.

This was my view from underneath the raspberries. That’s Mary Jane on the left and Arwen on the right. Mary Jane stayed with me the entire time I worked, more than two hours.

Last week, I also had the chance to see a beautiful symphony performed by the Bangor Symphony Orchestra. The symphony, entitled This Will Be Our Reply, was composed by the conductor of the BSO, Lucas Richman. The piece was powerful and important. Before the performance, Richman offered some background on the piece and said he was inspired to write it by a speech Leonard Bernstein gave after the assassination of John F. Kennedy. In his speech, Bernstein said that the response to violence had to be to “make music more intensely, more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”

In the symphony, the inner circle of musicians, which is the first row of violins, violas, and cellos, play this beautiful music and come back to it throughout the piece, all the while, you hear the outer symphony doing something else, including bombs and guns going off from the percussion. When the bombs and guns got louder, the inner circle played even harder. It was an important work–a reminder that, though humans can be so terrible, we can also be so very beautiful. We just need the artists to remind us.

I was so moved by the experience that I was still thinking about it that day in the raspberry bushes. I was thinking about how I sometimes feel so inadequate. I have such a big heart for art and beauty and making the world better yet have no idea how to do it and really no talent for doing so.

But, as I talked to Mary Jane, I thought maybe that’s okay. I’m never going to make beautiful art that will be remembered throughout the ages, but I am going to raise beautiful raspberries. These raspberries are not only beautiful, but they are also healthy and contain cancer-fighting chemicals that, as of yet, humans cannot fully replicate. They are magic, for lack of a better word. I am going to give those raspberries to my family and some of my friends–and to Mary Jane.

To Mary Jane, I think I might just be the best of humans and a good friend to have around.

And that has to be worth something–maybe an awful lot.

I’m rich! Again. For a little bit. And a general update.

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

It has been nearly two weeks since I have written, and I think this may be the longest I have been away from this blog since I started it. I have started and stopped many posts, but life gets in the way of my writing, as it does, but it has been doing so especially of late.

I love little Luna to the moon and back, so much so that I am going to have a hard time letting her go back to flock when the snow melts. It’s going to be a process, but she has healed so well that I think she should be able to go back to her people. I know it’s best for her. She needs to hunt for bugs and play in the mud, but I struggle with a possessive kind of love. Life keeps teaching. me, but I am a slow learner. Anyway, she’s a lot of work though, and I think my Luna work has taken up the nooks and crannies of my life when I used to be able to write.

Of course, all of that could just be an excuse. I think I have some writer’s block too. I think I’m struggling with the “what’s the point of all of this anyway” kind of writer’s block–the disillusioned kind. It feels good to be writing tonight though, so I’ll tell you what all has been going on.

First of all, I’m rich with eggs again! The light comes back so quickly here in Maine, and we went from getting 2 to 3 eggs per day to 12 to 14 eggs per day in no time, it seems. I feel so rick when the eggs come back. We have eaten eggs for breakfast and dinner, and I even had enough to sell my first carton last week. It was so good to see my favorite egg customer again. I love that she loves our eggs.

The hens are doing well. The three roosters are still getting along. Rooster is hanging in there, still enjoying his retirement. Mary Jane is doing so well that I found her on the top roost again last night. This morning, however, she was wise enough to not jump down on her own, and she waited for me to scoop her up and put her on the coop floor. I guess neither of us wanted a repeat of her leg injury. Thankfully, tonight she was in a nest box, which is not up nearly so high.

Ruby is still doing her Ruby thing, though she’s had some struggles this winter. Petty’s babies are kind of a gang, and they like the driveway, which has always been Ruby and Juliet’s territory. Well, this little gang has been mean to Ruby and Juliet and running them off. I’m probably going to have to do something about this because I watched out the window yesterday and poor Ruby just went from one chicken to another who was mean to her. It was like she couldn’t get away. They don’t hurt her. Thankfully, our flock isn’t like that, but they make it known that she is an outcast. They don’t like her nervous energy perhaps.

People like certainty. I am uncertain about everything. I think chicken’s like certainty too. I think Ruby and I are too much the same.

In sadder new, we lost a dear friend to a tragic accident this weekend, so we have been in some mourning. Also, yesterday, on our evening walk, a dog off lead came up to us, and Boudica turned into a werewolf. She is so, so, so strong and so fierce. I have a fairly seriously pulled muscle in my shoulder thanks to that little scene. I kept her away, but it took literally every bit of strength I had in my body. I am in quite a bit of pain today, so it was a rough weekend. It was hard to do the morning chores this morning.

The seeds we ordered have arrived, and we are planning the spring. I just have to order the Oxheart carrots still. Oh, and we ordered some cherry trees and two more pear trees. I have decided after having my own canned pears all winter that I cannot live my life going forward without my own canned pears.

Finally, I am ready for the winter to be done with us. I know we surely have at least a month or more to go, but we are getting close. I think, maybe, I see some buds coming on my Maple tree friend.

A New Kind of Resolution: Making Small Homesteading Goals for the Year

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

We are quite self-sufficient as homesteaders. We grow between 60 and 70 percent of the food we eat and have created a cycle of sustainability and regeneration on our property, but we didn’t get here over night. It has all been a process, and each year, I focus on adding a little more to what I can do. I used to have much bigger ambitions each year, but I learned pretty quickly that we needed to pace ourselves in order to keep from getting discouraged or overwhelmed. With this in mind, I like to think deeply about what we need and what a I love and make a few homesteading New Year’s resolutions each year.

As I have mentioned before, I am a bit of a planner. As such, I am a big New Year’s resolutions kind of person. Not everyone is, and I get that. Some people think they are ridiculous, and I get that too. Still, for me, someone who struggles to complete projects, especially when we can get so busy around here with outside work, homesteading, homeschooling, and more, New Year’s resolutions are helpful. They give me a focus and a deadline.

Last year, one of my biggest homesteading goals was to actually keep records of our eggs sales and consumption along with costs of feed and straw in order to see if there was in any way in world I might, someday, be able to expand our egg business and give it a go as a chicken farmer.

I didn’t get good news in my egg sales experiment and realized in April that, even in our best months, we could barely manage to break even selling eggs at $5.00 a dozen, so my farmer dream of selling eggs for a living was a myth busted in 2023. I can’t quit my day job, but I’m going to keep raising chickens. I am thankful they also use our food waste and supply our garden with fertilizer. Those chickens are our partners on this homestead, and I am thankful for each and every one of them.

On the positive side, in 2023, one of my resolutions was to finish a crochet blanket I started years ago, and I did it! I finished it on New Year’s Eve, just in time. We also had the goal to add more edible landscaping to our property. We added 4 peach trees, 3 grapevines, and 7 additional blueberry bushes. We have 3 raised beds of strawberries and had hoped to add another bed, but didn’t make it. I also learned how to can pears from our pear trees, and I think I may be most proud of that in terms of upping my homesteading game in 2023.

For 2024, I have a few homesteading goals that, I think, will keep us moving in a good direction while also being realistic given our schedules with work and being cello parents. It took me some time this year to think of what I wanted my goals to be and then talk about them with Ron, but I think I have a good list:

First, we need to add that additional strawberry bed if possible because out strawberries will be in their fourth season this year, and I know it won’t be long before we have to replant. We need a least one bed started now because I cannot go a summer without our delicious, organic strawberries.

Second, because our peach trees did marvelously in the chicken yard, we have decided to turn part of the chicken yard (they have about 3/4 of an acre fenced) into an orchard of sorts. We plan to add two more pear trees and then two more fruit trees of another kind, hopefully cherries. I plan to research this winter to see what kinds of cherries do well in Maine. We just decided this year that it doesn’t make sense not to have a yard full of fruit trees.

Our third goal for 2024 is to simplify the garden. Whether it’s a drought year or a flood year, the garden is epic in the summer. In 2023, I planted a small test plot using the Three Sisters Method, and it worked so well and just seems to take care of itself. Ron was greatly impressed and has been looking for a way to cut back on his work in the garden. With that in mind, we plan to plant a huge part of our garden plot using the Three Sisters Method in 2024.

Finally, my last resolution for the homestead is to research making our own organic chicken feed because, for the past year, our organic feed, no matter the brand we have tried, has been full of dust. It’s terribly wasteful and terribly expensive. I have no idea what we need to do, but that will definitely be another post–or series of posts.

Those New Year’s resolutions for the homestead make me hopeful. This coming year is not about growth very much but more about simplifying and finding ways to simply take more advantage of what we already have.

I also have a personal New Year’s resolution to finish some writing and get back to writing for Modern Farmer. I love that magazine. We’ll see how it goes.

In the meantime, what are you New Year’s resolutions for your farm or homestead?

photo credit: Skylar Zilka Unsplash

2023: A Farmer-ish Reflection

~ Crystal Sands ~ 3 Comments

It feels like this year has been a year of transition in so many ways. I have always been a planner and always had a plan. Since I was about 8 or 9 years old, I have been planning my future and always taking steps to make the next thing possible, but this year, I changed–or at least am in the process of changing–and I am not sure at all what the next thing is. I think I’m just going to have to learn to live in a space of uncertainty. Maybe, in some ways, we all are.

In our years of homesteading, we thought we had learned pretty well how to adapt to climate change. We learned to expect unusual heat and drought, but this year gave us a summer of cold rain. Everything in the garden was stunted for months. Some things rotted in the ground. But we persisted. After carrot seeds were washed away by rain in our first planting and then carrot seedlings were eaten by slugs in other plantings, we planted them a total of four times and got the best crop of carrots we ever had. We learned a new rule: plant carrots late because a hard frost makes them better. Of course, this year, Nature also emphasized that we will never know when that first frost will come. This year, it came Halloween night. The “usual” is mid September.

And, while we were dealing with the cold and wet, the rest of the world was dealing with a heat like no other. In 2023, it seemed that most everyone came to understand that we are dealing with climate change, that it’s coming faster and harder than most of us thought, and that our world leaders are willing to do little more than put band-aids on the problem. At the Climate Change Convention in Dubai in December, a record number of lobbyists from fossil fuel industries were in attendance, and while world leaders reached some consensus about the problems associated with climate change and the need to reduce fossil fuels, few specific plans were made. The scientists I know were devastated by the amazing level of inaction given the year our planet had just had. I even read one article written by a climate scientist that said it’s time to just start trying to deal with this mentally in whatever way we can because we are in for trying times.

I realize this is not the best thing to read on the last day of the year, but maybe there is good in understanding this reality. Humans are smart and adaptive. It’s just time to be as smart and adaptive as we possibly can. The humans in charge aren’t going to help us. We are going to have to be more self sufficient and help each other, and the latter is maybe one of the most important lessons I came to understand this year. I don’t know what that looks like. I don’t know for sure how we are supposed to help each other, but I am hopeful we will figure it out.

In further uncertainty, this year, I had a bit of a health scare. In March, after watching some trauma in a darn television program, my body forced me to come to terms with some trauma from my past–that stuff you block out and hope it goes away can sometimes rear it’s ugly head, I guess. For 8 days, I had a migraine so severe I could barely open my eyes, and I couldn’t move my neck and right shoulder. During those days, especially toward the end when I wondered how long this pain might go on, I started making promises to myself to change my life, to deal with my trauma and to make changes in my life to cut down on stress. I made a promise to myself to treasure time with my loved ones more.

It was during that time that I decided I was going to have to let go of Farmer-ish journal, at least for now. I have this hope that, one day, the journal will come back, and in the mean time, I plan to keep blogging and to find a way to share farming and nature writing from others. I just don’t know what that looks like yet. Not having a plan is pretty scary to me, but I am working hard to learn to go with the flow more. Maybe that’s kind of an oxymoron though, isn’t it? How does one “work hard” to “go with the flow”? We’ll see if I can figure it out.

Right now, finding my flow seems especially challenging because I feel two flows–one toward a path of greater self sufficiency because I see challenging times ahead and another toward my son’s hopes and dreams as a musician. At times, these two paths conflict so much that I am not sure which direction to go. I have to believe that balance and progress is possible in both areas, however, because this feels like my path. I do have to admit though that there is a lot I just don’t know about how to move forward, so I am also trying to learn to just be still and listen to the universe more.

In all of it, 2023 was a fantastic year. We got the best carrots ever, as I mentioned before, but there were many other wonderful experiences and moments of profound learning. I learned how to make rhubarb jelly and to better understand how my brothers deal with their trauma. I learned to trust my son’s skills as both a cellist and a professional in the world when I watched him walk in for the first day of his first job playing in an orchestra pit for a musical. I became closer to Ron and came to more deeply understand him for the treasure he is. I learned that, when it comes to selling organic, humanely-raised eggs, there is nothing to do but take a loss and be thankful chicken poop makes great garden compost. I learned that, sometimes, you just get really lucky when it comes to hatching baby chicks. I still can’t believe all six of Petty’s babies were girls!

I kept my resolution to learn the cello. I am still learning and taking lessons and making progress. I met an amazing chicken lady who lives in Maine but is originally from Costa Rica, and I met a bee whisperer who lives in Maine but is originally from Poland. The last time we went and stocked up on honey, we had a fantastic conversation about observing chickens and bees and what we can learn from them. When Ron and I were leaving, the bee whisperer gave me a hug that I understood to be a hug that said “thank you for understanding me.” I did my best to hug back with a hug that said, “no, thank you. It’s hard to find my people.”

I made homemade vanilla. I made my daughter a beautiful quilt. I learned how to can pears. I learned how to make apple butter. I tried to grow into a better human. It’s been a good year on our little homestead, despite some challenges. It’s been a good year of life, despite some challenges.

That’s how life is though, isn’t it? The challenges and uncertainties are a part of being alive. Finding joy in the process is a part of learning to thrive.

I wish you a beautiful New Year’s Eve and a Happy New Year. Today, Ron and I celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. He got me a gift for the first time in 14 years. I didn’t get him anything, so I am going to make some special bread.

photo credit: Annie Spratt, Unsplash

Preserving Pear Perfection

~ Crystal Sands ~ 1 Comment

I read a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson that said, “There are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat.”

This is pretty much the truth. I love pears so much, but they are not nearly so sturdy as the apple. Still, there is something so beautiful about them to me. When we first planted fruit trees on our property, I have no idea why we chose pear trees over apple trees, but I am glad we chose pears. Even though I love apples more, apples are readily available from small farms in our area. I don’t know anyone else who has pears.

We have just two trees, but our asian pear tree generally does well and just went above and beyond this year with all of the rain. With Emerson’s quote in mind, I set out this year to can and freeze our pears to make sure we could enjoy them for longer than ten minutes.

This year, thanks to a very generous tree, I was able to freeze three gallons of pears and can 15 jars. That’s amazing for just two trees. If you are in Maine and want to preserve some pears before the season is over, this is the recipe I used for canning asian pears. It works very well. Our whole family approved of the light syrup recipe, though Ron thought even the light syrup was a little too heavy. Because asian pears are crunchier than other pears, if you are not working with asian pears, you might want to consider this recipe.

And if you are in Maine reading this and know of a farm that sells pears in the fall, please leave a comment. I don’t know if we will be so lucky with an abundance of pears next year, but I can never again be without pears in the fall. I am now officially spoiled by plentiful pears.