Starting Over with a Little Sparkle

The first raspberries, the last strawberries, and other updates

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

Strawberry Season 2023–or the Waiting Is the Hardest Part

I took this picture exactly one year ago today. It was the first small batch of strawberries, and I was so excited because there were so many more berries nearly ripe and coming soon.

Strawberries are my favorite food in the world. As a child, all I wanted for my birthday was a strawberry cake. My great grandmother had strawberries in her in-town garden and would make strawberry jam, which I am still convinced, on homemade bread, is the best, most comforting food in the history of the world.

I love the strawberries.

This year, it feels like we are forever away from strawberry season still. It has been cold and gray and rainy, and everything in the garden feels stunted and slow. I have patience for the other things, like the radishes and beets. I am having a hard time waiting on the strawberries.

I just weeded the strawberry beds this morning and studied the state of things. The plants look great, and there are a ton of green berries. But they are all so green! It looks like it will be a couple of weeks before we have strawberries, and I am bummed about this wait. It’s all we can do though, I guess. Just wait and hope for sunshine.

Tom Petty said, “The waiting is the hardest part.” Those are wise words.

On Being Rich

Day 50 of 365

Today feels like a milestone. I have been writing in this blog every single day for 50 days. Most days, I do not have time to write nearly as much as I would like. I have stories about sneaky chickens, special wild birds, and howling chipmunks, but I realize that summer is a tough time to be writing in a blog. There are baby chickens everywhere, and I somehow had two additional classes I wasn’t anticipating teaching land in my lap a few weeks ago. But, despite these obstacles, I have written something every day, and that counts, right?

Today was farm share day again. It’s normally on Thursdays, but the strawberries were so ripe that we decided we had better do an early farm share day this week. Plus, the sugar pod peas were ready, and we learned a long time ago that, when it’s hot, you have to move quickly on the sugar pod peas.

Today’s farm share included fresh strawberries and strawberry jam. Aren’t they beautiful?

I am marveling at our strawberries. It’s their second year of berries, and I can’t believe how generous these plants are being. It’s the chicken poop compost. Ron read years ago that it is the best fertilizer. I absolutely believe it.

I keep talking about how “rich” we are. We’re so rich we eat fresh strawberries for breakfast. We’re so rich, I made strawberry jam and still had berries left in the blow. We’re so rich, I have made smoothies with fresh strawberries with dinner three nights in a row!

I find it interesting that I measure wealth in strawberries. I also measure wealth in eggs. In December, I am poor, but by late February, I am so rich again! Right now, I am extra rich because we have strawberries AND eggs.

And the raspberries are coming, and the Oxheart carrots are getting bigger, and I am pretty sure the corn will surely be knee-high by the Fourth of July. I am feeling extra grateful of late. Things seem extra good. Even Kate’s baby is starting to thrive.

I am superstitious, so I am knocking on wood as I write these words.

The Generosity of the Strawberry Plant

Day 45 of 365

I have loved berries for as long as I can remember. I suppose everyone would say that, but berries to me are nostalgia and comfort and joy and beauty. Maybe everyone feels that way about berries?

For me, there’s something extra special about strawberries. Since I was little, they have forever been my favorite food in the world. My great grandmother had a strawberry patch–and she made jam and let me pick berries–and my world was always better at her house. Strawberry ice cream is my favorite ice cream. If I was really lucky, I would get a strawberry shortcake on my birthday. When I was 8 and then 9, I really wanted one of those Strawberry Shortcake dolls. Today, I am convinced I need a farm dress in strawberry print. There must be pockets, of course.

When Ron built raised beds for me to plant strawberries in, I did my research to find a great local berry. Ron was generous with the chicken compost, and our strawberry plants seem very happy in their beds. This year, however, they have outdone themselves. I was a little worried when I saw so many flowers pop up in the spring. I worried about berries being too small. I should not have worried. The berries are perfection. I mean, imagine the perfect strawberry–perfect in size, shape, texture, taste, and color–and that’s what our beds are full of this year. It feels like a miracle.

In fact, today, while picking strawberries for our farm shares, I was so overwhelmed by the beauty of these berries and my hopefulness at sharing them with others that I got a little teary.

Yesterday, we had some friends out to our little farmstead, and they have small children, two girls, who are very little and just fantastic. I think the oldest is about three years old. They came out to meet the baby chicks and pick strawberries. And I have to tell you that the the oldest is a person after my own heart. She seemed to love the chickens, and she really loves strawberries.

I told her she could eat the berries as she picked, as they are organic. We never spray anything, of course. I told her to just watch out for squirrel bites and to not eat those. She was definitely on the lookout for squirrel bites after that. Once she quit worrying about squirrel bites, that kiddo dove into those strawberries, and it made me so happy that I thought my heart was going to burst from the joy of it. I mean, what’s better than a kiddo eating organic strawberries with joyous gusto?

I ate some too. I think we all ate some. The sun was shining, the breeze was cool, and the strawberries were–as you know–perfect. We picked so many berries that I thought surely we had made a dent in them, but today, when Ron and I went outside to pick for the farm shares, it was like the strawberries decided to be extra generous from all of that joy yesterday. I am certain, just absolutely certain, that the strawberries felt all of our gratefulness yesterday. They must have.

And I’m fairly certain the strawberries decided to be extra generous in return.

The Strawberries Are Coming

Day 37 of 365

Tonight, I am worn, just not as worn as my husband. Ron is expanding our little homestead and having to build a new fenced area for new chickens. He chops cedars, digs holes, and installs fencing all by himself. I don’t even know how he does it.

But when he’s doing that from dark to dark, I am doing all the other stuff. If you have ever lived on a farm or homestead, you know that “all the other stuff” is a lot.

But I have quick updates from life here on Sands End Farm:

  1. The baby Eastern Phoebes are still around! I saw them playing in the yard near the strawberries today. I am over the moon about this, but that empty nest is still tough to see.
  2. Today, when I was grading essays and trying to entertain my adopted brood at the same time, I discovered that my little Lavender Orpingtons, who are the sweetest birds I think I have ever seen, will sit on my arms while I am typing on my computer. They just ride along as I moved my hands from different keys. I have to get a picture of this soon.
  3. And the strawberries are coming. Strawberries are my favorite food in the history of ever. I will have to write more about them soon, but we had about a dozen ripe strawberries today, and the beds are fuller than I have ever seen them. I am hopeful!