FarmNerd » life

Mundane epiphanies

fwegan — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 18:52:56 +0000

Yesterday wasn’t exactly what most people would call an exciting day, but there were three events that I’m sure will change my life for good. They all happened in The Castro (which will forever be my favorite neighborhood in the city, despite my not being a gay man).

1.
Jamie showed me, and I then purchased, the teeniest circular knitting needles I’ve ever seen. I will never (EVER) have to break out a set of porcupine-like double pointed needles to knit a sweater again. Do you know how many sweaters projects I’ve abandoned just because I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sleeves? Never again.

2.
While Sam and I were looking for a place to eat lunch, we walked by Anchor Oyster Bar. I mentioned that after reading a very persuasive article on vegans eating oysters, I’d thought about trying them. His face lit up and he marched us into the restaurant.

I’ve never had oysters before, and aside from some occasional chicken broth, a small piece of fish, and exactly two bites of turkey, I haven’t eaten any animals since becoming a vegetarian eleven years ago. So oysters are sort of a big deal.

A big delicious deal. I had two of the little guys — the first one was on the house since I was an oyster virgin — and they were completely unlike what I expected. They weren’t rubbery or fishy, just flavorful and oh-so-delicate. Though I don’t think I could have much more than two in a single sitting.

3.
For lunch, I had a vegetarian chili cheeseburger at Harvey’s. It was less of a revelation than the oysters, but not by much.

New Year’s Resolutions

fwegan — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 01:14:26 +0000

I love asking people about their New Year’s resolutions. So many people get really excited about making their yearly list, and so many people are offended by the idea of attempting self-improvement based on the calendar.

I belong in the excited camp.

Here are mine for 2011:

Kick ass in school. (Did I mention I’m going back to school part-time in a couple weeks? I’m psyched.)
Keep the house somewhat cleaner than “completely disgusting and embarrassing”
Do something creative every day e.g. writing, experimental cooking, guitar, knitting. Inspired by this quote:

When you don’t create things, you become defined by your tastes rather than ability. Your tastes only narrow and exclude people. So create.

_why_the_lucky_stiff, via Smashing Magazine
Be aware of the things I do — the dumb habits — that make me unhappy, and consider doing them less.

Anyone else have some good resolutions?

Combating a boring afternoon

fwegan — Thu, 30 Dec 2010 23:32:42 +0000

Two realizations:

When you have nothing better to do — or really, *nothing* to do — creating a new Pandora station and tackling a mess of a closet is not a bad way to spend an hour or so.
Holy shit we’ve got a lot of towels.

Farm Diary: Day #2

fwegan — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 04:01:30 +0000

(A quick update: I left my job at that other farm last week, and after a few days of downtime, have started farming on a little almost-quarter-acre field on my friend Ernie’s property.)

Today I:

finished double-digging my first 5′ x 20′ bed. Heck yeah John Jeavons! (233 minutes)
set up my garden hose for watering the raised beds, and rolled out the header for watering the rows (12 minutes)
planted chioggia beets. So many beets. (62 minutes! Gotta get faster!)
enjoyed a horchata milkshake and got to see Riley’s new farm spot (’bout an hour)
showed Riley my little patch o dirt, did an irrigation store run, decided on general bed/row layout, and took a break to walk the goats with Ernie (173 minutes)

(Don't worry, we drove nice and slow.)

I also sunburned my lower back, forearms, and face. I have cuts and blisters on my hands, and my palms are so sore that it hurts to high-five. Of course, everything else is sore too. And I’m tired, so tired. Two days of farming has totally kicked my pansy, used-to-parking-itself-on-a-padded-chair-all-day ASS.

But today when I walked into my favorite diner, my favorite cashier said, “You look happy!” I am SO happy, I can’t even tell you. I’ve never had a job where I was so elated at the end of the second day. In my last job, I read dozens of intern applications that waxed poetic on the soulful joys of farming. Now I’m finally feeling it.

On tomorrow’s to-do list: another irrigation errand run (I fear that this is going to become a theme), rolling out drip lines, planting (popcorn, dry beans, green beans, zucchini, summer squash, cucumbers, muskmelons, lettuce, more beets, and spinach) double-digging half of the next bed. And most importantly, visiting Mark and Velma, who I’ve barely seen in the last year and a half — largely because I’d been working so hard for a pretty crappy company. Hooray for my new independence!

Goodbye, sweet cabin

fwegan — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 20:00:46 +0000

We’re moving on Tuesday. Our boss/landlord was making noises about how we might want to start looking for a new place to live, and I wasn’t prepared to wait and see if they’d really use the “72 hour notice” clause in our employee housing agreement.

The new place is a cute little duplex in Penngrove — much closer to work. It was love at first sight (there’s a shared veggie garden in the yard!) so we put down a deposit the day we saw it.

Things I’ll miss about our house

No neighbors in sight, or within shouting distance. We can make as much noise as we want. (And MAN some of our ticklefights get roudy.)
Living in the middle of a bunch of trees is just COOL. All that moss, the smell of the bay trees in the rain, tromping through the woods looking for mushrooms or figs or berries, and seeing deer and turkeys wander by…it’s just so neat.
Free chanterelle mushrooms. ‘Nough said.
I finally (on attempt four or five, I don’t recall) planted some seeds that survived past germinating! Two weeks ago! ::sob:: (I don’t care if I have to break in, I am coming back for those peas when they’re ready.)
Taking a bath in our unattached bathroom with the door open to the whole world. And drying off in the sun.
Going for jogs around our orchard, where no one but the animals can tell how pitifully out of shape I am.
Our insanely comfortable couch. It stays with the house, as well as all of our plates and nearly all of the furniture.
Not having to really take care of our compost pile. Out of sight, out of mind.
Knowing that our water comes from a well right by the house, much of our electricity comes from the solar panels and wind turbine in the orchard, and we only consume as much propane as we buy at the hardware store down the road.
The cob oven. Not that I ever used it, but Chris has made some damn fine flatbread in that thing.
Living on a property that was once owned by Jack London never quite lost its appeal.
Bob Shaffer: awesomest neighbor ever.
Paying next to nothing on rent.

Things I will certainly not miss about this place

An hour of commuting everyday. The new place is about ten minutes from work.
The goddamn skunk who decided that the area directly beneath our bedroom would be a great place to call home. (Though it seems to have left in the last couple weeks.)
That week and a half we went without water — it’s hard not to hold a grudge about that one.
Living without a working shower for the last couple months.
The oven door that you can’t close without a ratchet strap.
Climbing over the gate to punch in the code on the other side every time we leave.
That 72 hour clause.
Only heating the house when we’re going to be awake long enough to justify getting a fire started.
No way to get an internet connection.
Hearing and seeing gigantic limbs and whole trees fall down in heavy wind or rain. It’s almost kinda cool, but it’s scary — especially when I see one near the house or somewhere we often go and realize if I’d been standing there when it happened, it would’ve been seriously bad scene.
The midnight/morning dash to the outdoor bathroom. Sooo coooooooold.
Goddamn turkeys digging up every goddamn seed I’ve planted up till a couple weeks ago. They don’t even eat them, they just see the fresh dirt and go, “Oh, I have GOT to get in on that!” and scratch around like chickens. Assholes.
Hearing animals get attacked in the middle of the night. It’s one thing to watch it on a nature show, and another thing entirely to wake up to a furry little guy get dragged off as he screams bloody murder. I’ve had too many fox nightmares.

I still want to spend as much of my life as I can living in the woods. Just not these woods.

Introducing Lazy Fox Farm

fwegan — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 05:59:21 +0000

Our farm is underway.

Just about a year ago, Chris and I left San Francisco to begin our farming adventure. It amazes me to think of our mindset back then; we were sick and tired of working crappy jobs that barely paid the rent for our equally crappy basement apartment, so we took off. We had heard of WWOOF through several friends, and figured we’d travel around and do farm work just to get by.

At that point it seemed like something we could handle, and maybe even something we’d enjoy, but I don’t think either of us expected to be totally sucked in by it. But halfway through our first semester at Green String interns, before the winter was over, it became clear that farming was IT for us.

Since we finished our internships in May, we’ve been f’real farm employees, working long hours six or seven days a week, and fantasizing about having our own little farm someday. We’re living on one of our boss’s properties, and part of his offer to us was that we’d set up a little market garden here, and get a mini-incubator farm going. But between our long hours (and resulting exhaustion) and a couple broken rototillers, it just hasn’t happened.

Well, it *hadn’t* happened. Now…

Now it’s happening! I can’t tell you how excited I am. We picked out the garden spot (maybe about an acre out of the 110 of the property) almost as soon as we moved in, and Chris has been watering it ocassionally to soften up the hard soil.

We’re going to get the rototiller out here next week (finally!), but I’m also doing a little experiment. I’ve planted part of the space this week with turnips (Chinese red round, Japanese shogoin, and French navet des vertus marteau, ho ho) and Italian sugarloaf chicory, because I have it on good authority that turnips and chicory plants will not only thrive in hard soil, they’ll actually bust it up! I’m going to plant another section with cover-crop varieties of daikon radish and chicory, which will probably do a lot more work on the soil but also won’t be particularly edible. The remainder of the garden will be tilled and planted with non-experimental crops — lots of brassicas, greens, root veggies, and herbs — and we’ll go from there.

If all goes well, we’ll start showing up at the Sonoma farmers market on Friday mornings with some goodies to sell. If it goes really well, we may start up a CSA by spring. Whatever form our little garden takes, we’ll be calling it Lazy Fox Farm, in honor of the adorable little bastards who ate our roosters — and probably watch our every move from the shadows.

It’s difficult to find the time to work on our own project when we’re so immersed in our jobs, but heading out there at sunset to rake, seed, and water doesn’t feel like work. Right now, those 8 rows of seed sitting in our beautiful, sweet-smelling soil feel likes new world of possibilities.

An open letter

fwegan — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 02:08:17 +0000

To all the animals in the forest:

Hello. I am one of the new humans living in your woods. I am writing to propose what I believe could be a mutually beneficial arrangement.

We (which is to say, my boyfriend and I) have lived in the cabin at 1855 London Ranch Road for over two months now, and I can’t help but notice that none of you – turkeys, deer, foxes, frogs, jack-rabbits, gophers, moles, snakes, newts, songbirds, squirrels, and cougars – have introduced yourselves or welcomed us in any way. The sole exception to this is that a brave young lizard, dubbed Benny, perched atop my boyfriend’s shoe for a while. Both lizard and man walked away from this exchange pleased, and I think you all could learn from Benny’s example.

To be quite explicit, this is what I’d like to do:

Sleeping Beauty chilling with her feathery/furry homies
Snow White gets some help with her baking

I’m not saying you’ve got to hang on to my every word while I sing about a bunch of girly bullshit; but surely, some of you enjoy singing and dancing, and besides, I could use some help making pies.

I understand that some of you may be avoiding us for fear of being eaten. I am a vegetarian! In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that Chris eats meat, but I can offer you full protection if you agree to hang out with us. We’ve been together for a year and a half, and he has never eaten any of my friends. Not even one.

If you are interested in further developing what could be a beautiful friendship, please join me in a morning singalong tomorrow at 5:30am.

Until then,
Your Princess,
Jenny

On being a gigantic nerd

fwegan — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 19:21:18 +0000

I name all of my material possessions after people, creatures, and things in Harry Potter. Well, all of the things that are worth naming, anyways. I haven’t named my washer and dryer Ron and Hermione or anything. (Though now that I’ve said that, maybe… nevermind.)

It started with my last car. Then it just sorta became a thing.

Honda Civic Hybrid: Hagrid (because it’s ironic — that thing’s a damn lawn-mower)
my first iPod: Hedwig
wireless network: Patronus (password was an encrypted version of “Expecto Patronum”)
newer silver iPod: Pigwidgeon
MacBook Pro: Buckbeak

Last week I got an iPhone, and when the dude at the AT&T store asked me what I wanted to name it, I realized I hadn’t thought of a name for it yet. I told him to register it as “Jenny’s iPhone” — he actually mocked me for being unoriginal, though I can’t imagine what he would have said if I’d made him help me come up with an appropriately dorky name.

When I got home, I started brainstorming. It’s small, it’s black, it’s connected and super-useful, so my first thought was “Dark Mark.” Ugh. No way. I couldn’t think of any creature that fits that description. Errol was the closest, being gray, but he’s just so pathetic and old, and my iPhone’s awesome and new! I ended up settling on Patronus, even though I’d already used the name.

I’m not happy with Patronus though. It makes sense for a network because it’s this sort of general thing, but for something that I hold in my hand, it needs a real name. A real character. Someone important. Someone small and sweet and endlessly helpful. Someone loved, and loving.

I’ve got it: the iPhone is Dobby. <3

Bowie and the Whiteys

fwegan — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 00:12:29 +0000

*Sigh* I wrote this on Saturday, back when they were all alive. Since then three (including my dear Bowie) have been dragged off by a fox — all in one night! — but the two that remain are being safely guarded, I assure you. Anyways.

We got chickens!

Hylla (the chicken lady at Green String) has been complaining about these five young roosters for a couple weeks. They were *supposed* to be hens, but 5 out of the batch of 75 day-old chicks we got in April turned out to be boys, and they’ve been harassing the poor ladies ever since they got their combs. When you walk into the henhouse where their group lives, you see lots of bare butts and feathers absolutely everywhere. For the first time, Hylla suggested to Bob and Ross that they harvest some chickens.

She wanted them gone right away, but they’re still so small! In another few weeks, they’ll be respectably sized roosters with a heck of a lot more meat on them. So yesterday, Ross, Katrina, and I loaded them into the truck (well, really I watched while Ross and Katrina did all the work. I still haven’t gotten the hang of catching chickens) and drove them up to our house. Ross helped Chris set up a makeshift home for them, and suddenly Chris and I were the proud owners of five beautiful young roosters!

Four of them are a local hybrid (egg and meat) breed, Sonoma somethingorother. When they’re big enough, I’ll finally learn how to kill, pluck, gut, and cook a chicken. Yup, I’m planning on interrupting my 11-year stint as a vegetarian soon. Just for these guys though. I really have no interest in eating meat, but I *do* know a ton of people who do, and I have a lot of interest in supplying people with healthy, decently raised birds. The commercial poultry situation is so sickening, even with a lot of the supposedly organic and sustainable local companies. I’d like to be part of the solution to that.

Besides, living at Green String for six months changed the way I think about a lot of things. We saw a bigger part of the circle of life and death there than suburban kids like Chris and I usually do, even though it’s mainly a vegetable farm. Animals die all the time, whether they’re going to be someone’s dinner or not, and it’s a heck of a lot more useful for everyone involved if they can be dinner. And as I try more and more to only eat what’s grown locally and sustainably, and as I do real work more often, I feel less and less like I can meet my body’s needs through grains, legumes, and veggies alone. I haven’t had tofu in months! The eggs and dairy that have become a necessary part of my diet are locally and well-produced (and all the more delicious for it!), but they still have some death implicit in their production. What do you do with a hen who’s a few years old and has stopped producing? Wait until her sisters peck her to death? Or slaughter her a little earlier, throw her in the stew pot, and put her to good use? And what about the calf born to each dairy cow every year to keep her producing milk? How unsustainable (in the literal sense) would it be to to try to keep every one?

Anyways, back to our new chickens.

The other guy is a barred rock, and there’s no way we’re going to eat him anytime soon. He’s beautiful! My previous favorite rooster at Green String was a barred rock too. (See the story of his death for more on why I’m okay with killing chickens.) This guy looks a little bit like a hen, with his androgynously dinky comb, so we’ve named him Bowie. When we get hens, he’ll be the one in charge of fertilizing eggs and protecting our little ladies. But for now, he’s just the pretty one.

So we loaded them into a big cage that the previous tenants had left close (but not too close) to our house. Ross and Chris wrapped the three sides in some sheep fencing, since some of the gaps between the bars are a bit too wide. This held them for about an hour.

I went to check on the guys, and one of the little whiteys was cruising around outside the cage! I thought he must have squeezed through a gap, so I re-wrapped the sides with a roll of chicken wire I found, and resolved to catch the son of a bitch. Chris and I chased him around and around for half an hour, and when we finally got him close enough to the cage, I held the door open while Chris walked him toward it. That’s when the second rooster got out.

We tried in vain to herd them for a little while longer, and then decided to wait until it got dark for a second attempt. Chickens get so calm once it’s dark that you can pick them up easily and they’ll only cluck a little. We went back just after sunset, and one of the roosters was perched right on top of the cage — but the other one was no where in sight. We searched for the missing guy until we couldn’t see anymore (no flashlights, d’oh!), then shouted into the darkness that he was on his own, and returned to the cage.

I thought I could grab that one sitting there. He looked so peaceful! In fact, when I reached out to grab him, I was so surprised that he hadn’t reacted that I fumbled, and by the time he did start freaking out I could only grab his tail. He was flapping around like crazy, trying to run away, and I was holding onto his tail feathers. Unable to get a better hold, I let go (afterward, I realized I should have held his tail in one hand while I grabbed a leg in the other), and we lost another chicken to the night.

We did another quick walk to look for the two, and right before bed I checked for them again, but we couldn’t find them. I felt horrible for losing two-fifths of our flock within the first few hours, and was sure that between the mountain lion, bobcats, foxes, and other nocturnal predators we have prowling our woods, neither of them would survive the night.

At 5:30 this morning the sun came up, and holy CRAP were our roosters excited. Chris didn’t wake up, but I sure as hell did. I guess during the week it’ll be nice — we’re supposed to start work at 6 most days, so if we’re still in bed by the time the roosters get started, we’ll know that we’re running super late. For Saturday though? Ugh.

Luckily they calmed down quickly and I went back to sleep. Two hours later I was properly awake and went to check on them. I laughed as soon as I saw them.

The escaped roosters survived! And they came back! It looked like the two of them were visiting their brothers in jail. We’ve since let all of them out to roam for the day, figuring that they’ll come back when it gets dark and we can just let them in without having to herd and chase and catch the little bastards.

I’m looking forward to taking care of these funny little creatures, and it feels good to have animals again, even if they can be a pain in the ass. After the harvest we’re going to get a few hens so we can have our own eggs — and that’s the really exciting part. These guys are just practice.

DIY necessities

fwegan — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 03:38:59 +0000

I’m not much of a cheapskate by nature (I don’t raise an eyebrow at the price tag on a well-made skein of yarn) but I sure am when it comes to basic necessities that are made very cheaply by gigantic companies. Spending five dollars on sliced sandwich bread with scary ingredients, or buying a box of bandaids, or even spending a couple bucks on pasta makes me feel cheated.

I’ve been slowly but surely dispelling some of my own ideas of what “basic necessities” really are, and in every instance, my cheap, made-from-scratch solutions have been better than the purchased versions. No scary ingredients, no trips to the big box, no packaging to try to recycle, and, best of all, no gigantic corporations benefiting from my inability to provide for myself. Well, less, at least.

Of course, there’s a reason most people have allowed these things to pass from the realm of homemade to pre-made: it takes time! And making certain things, like clothes, requires serious skill. But for those of us who enjoy craftiness and practical applications for creativity, why on earth would we opt for convenience?

So here it is, Jenny’s List of Shit I’d Rather Make Than Buy, and How To Do It (part one).

bandaids
bread
broth
eggs
mayonnaise
pasta
toothpaste

Bandaids

Use a tiny scrap of paper or cloth (the size of the cut) and a strip of masking tape. The tape will stay on when wet far better than a bandaid, and doesn’t hurt as much when you take it off. I also like that you can make the perfect size bandage depending on what you need, instead of maintaining a ridiculous supply of pre-made ones.

Bread

Now that I’ve been making bread fairly regularly for a couple months, I can’t imagine going back to the supermarket crap. I do still like the occasional loaf from a local artisan bakery, but it really doesn’t get better than homemade. I can’t decide what it is about homemade bread that I like best; the money-saving, that there’s no crap in it (just look at the ingredient list of your next supermarket loaf), the act of making it, the taste and smell of it, or the smug satisfaction and total ego-boost that comes when I pull two perfect loaves out of the oven. Homemade bread is just magical.

I’ve come to think of white “all purpose” flour as being special occasion flour—I use it for some desserts and specialty breads like challah and popovers, but that’s about it. For day-to-day bread, muffins, quickbreads, and pancakes, I just use whole wheat flour. (And none of that “half all-purpose, half whole wheat” bullshit that so many cookbooks recommend. If you have a good quality, relatively fresh whole wheat flour, you don’t need to dilute it to get good texture.) Michael Pollan’s In Defense of Food convinced me that refined grains, like white flour, ought to be the exception, not the rule; we simply haven’t evolved to handle the white stuff. Besides, whole wheat flour really does taste better for most applications—try some yeasted whole wheat pancakes and you’ll see what I mean.

Like so many skills I’ve picked up, I didn’t have an experienced baker to teach me. Certain books have been indispensable, though. The Tassajara Bread Book has a gajillion recipes, nearly all using whole wheat flour, but the best part is the 40-something page illustrated guide to the basic method of bread making. It covers how to mix, knead, shape, and slash the dough, plus everything in between. Their basic “Tassajara Bread” recipe has been my go-to since I started baking in earnest.

The Laurel’s Kitchen Bread Book was one of the first tomes of whole wheat baking, and while I despise the ethereal writing style (what exactly does the dough look like when it “sighs”?) and have had exactly zero luck with the recipes, it’s packed with information that will help you understand some of the science of bread making in an approachable way.

Last week I picked up The Bread Bible at the library, and within a minute of flipping through it, I knew I had to buy it. It is incredibly precise, incredibly informative, and incredibly thorough. My only complaint is that the author is far more exact than I would ever want to be in my own kitchen, but that problem is easily remedied by not following instructions to the letter. I’ve only made two breads from this book so far—a loaf of braided challah and two loaves of cinnamon swirl bread—but both have been exceptional. I’m looking forward to trying dozens more.

Broth

This has got to be the best one yet. Since Chris and I have been making our own broth every few days from kitchen scraps, I’ve looked back on my years of buying vegetable broth with shame. How much money have I wasted— hundred dollars? Two hundred?—on underflavored, overpriced, overpackaged broth?

The recipe is so simple: take all your vegetable scraps that you think might taste good, and put them in a big pot. Fill the pot with water and some salt, and put the lid on. Bring it to a boil. Then simmer it. When it looks pretty and smells insanely delicious (anyone who walks into the kitchen should breathe deeply and say, “Ohh, what smells so good?”), turn it off. Strain or scoop out the solid bits (great for worm compost, once cooled) and put the liquid in mason jars. Use it for everything: soup, rice, quinoa, sauce, bread, muffins… now that I’m not shelling out big bucks for packages of broth, I feel free to use it to flavor everything, and my cooking is all the better for it.

I once read instructions for broth-making that warned against using scraps, reasoning that if you wouldn’t want to eat it, you wouldn’t want to make flavor-juice out of it. When it comes to scraps that are truly past their prime (like, if they’re fuzzy), sure. But leek tops? Carrot peelings? Completely dead, wilted celery? Papery onion skins? These are some of the best broth ingredients around. Prolonged boiling can coax flavor out of even the most pathetic looking veggies, and since you’ll take all the solid stuff out anyways, it doesn’t matter what the texture’s like.

There are some guidelines though. Unless you want a bitter broth, I’d stay away from brassicas entirely (e.g. cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, brussels sprouts, kale). Any kind of leafy green is just going to get limp and bring no flavor to the party—unless it’s good and herby like basil, of course. And make sure you get all the dirt off your veggies before they go into the pot, unless you don’t mind relinquishing the last inch or so of your pot o’ broth—I often don’t bother, since we have so many vegetables around here, and whatever we don’t manage to eat will go to the chickens or the compost.

The best part, of course, is that you can turn waste into deliciousness. The second best part, though, is that you can throw out the one-flavor-fits-all mentality of packaged vegetable broth and get into customizing. Imagine a vegetable broth made to complement its intended dish! Chris made an amazingly savory broth last night out of dumpstered mushrooms and wild fennel, and I can’t wait to find the perfect application for it. I’m thinking of trying an earthy, herby pilaf… or maybe turnip soup?

Eggs

Supermarket eggs are downright nasty (and useless) compared to the good stuff. Pastured eggs cost a bundle, but hens don’t! Seriously, now that I’ve gotten used to having a chicken coop in the yard, I can’t imagine going back to store-bought eggs. Having your own chickens is super easy (most days it they take less time to care for than kneading a loaf of bread) and incredibly rewarding. You can’t beat it for freshness, and properly pastured eggs (i.e. eggs laid by hens who get to eat plants and scratch around for bugs and grubs) are more nutritious, flavorful, and easier to cook with than the industrial versions. Besides, most egg-laying chickens in commercial settings live horrible lives. (Yes, even organic, vegetarian-fed, so-called “free-range” ones—check out chapter nine of The Omnivore’s Dilemma if you don’t believe me.) And who wants to support that?

Mayonnaise

No, Best Foods ain’t the best. Homemade, mayonnaise is actually edible, believe it or not. And easy. If you’ve got a whisk and a bowl, you’re already halfway there. Read my previous blog post on making mayonnaise.

Pasta

Homemade pasta is even easier to make than homemade bread, with many of the same benefits. It’s dirt cheap. It tastes about a million times better than anything you can buy. And there are no mind-boggling ingredients! Granted, it takes way more time than dumping a plastic bag of factory-made stuff into a pot, but it’s very nearly always worth it—especially if you have farm-fresh eggs.

Toothpaste

My last tube of Aquafresh ran out a few weeks ago. I thought I’d experiment with using straight baking soda, and I haven’t looked back since! Two dollars for a new tube every few weeks is hardly an exorbitant amount of money, but it’s still my money that’s going to GlaxoSmithKline, the second largest pharmaceutical in the world, and that tube still has some ingredients I’m not so sure about it. Of course, Arm & Hammer isn’t exactly a mom and pop operation, but two dollars of baking soda ought to be enough for a year’s worth of clean teeth.

Using it is just stupid simple: rinse your toothbrush, dip it in the baking soda, and brush. It took me a couple days to get used to the slightly salty taste, but now I prefer it to the artificial, tongue-deadening faux-mint flavor.

So much to do

fwegan — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 16:41:45 +0000

The other night I couldn’t sleep because I was lying in bed running through all the things I have to and want to do. In an attempt to stop freaking out about it, I wrote down everything I could think of in one ginormous list. Damn.

I’ve already done some of it though.

* make English muffins
* make a new noteboook
get our own place & a dog
start journaling regularly so I can remember the days
do Aaron’s mobile gallery
plant around the house
* March newsletter
get kitchen knife sharpened
work with the high school agriculture program
set a standard recipe template for the farm blog
Bob’s yarn-spinning lady?
ask Bob about hops farming
make peanut butter cookies
get Aaron to visit
in_the_store.xml to Blogger?
organize farm workdays
harvest/make mustard
lead a chicken workshop for kids
make granola bars
read everything in the world
work for Carole on the weekends for $$$
get peppermint oil for delicious baking soda
brew beer
finish Chris’s sweater
make oregano mayonnaise
make toothpaste
bake lots of bread
get bristol board from art store
clean room
make Mom a scarf out of that Cashsoft yarn
get a Klezmer book
grow hops
hatch some baby chickens
website insanity
learn about having goats & sheep
get Dave to visit
get Dad to visit
* write competition control copy
learn to sew
go to Italy for the harvest
English essays
draw my favorite rooster
* print/bind calendar
greenstringinstitute.org
organize workshops
knit Chris some slippers
sell crafty stuff again
visit Hidden Villa
volunteer for Petaluma Bounty
reorganize the mudroom/tools
read the most recent “Best American Science Writing” book
go to Point Reyes
make Allie a calendar
* SLEEP. Man, I’m exhausted.

New Year’s Journal

fwegan — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 18:01:03 +0000

The year’s off to a lovely start.

The interns’ New Year’s Eve party was very fun and somewhat grown-up. Nyte joined us, as well as three of Melissa’s friends and one of Julia’s. Rigo and Pedro came out too. Andrea hosted, for the most part, and made three kinds of ravioli and three kinds of sauce. I made lentil soup and Julia made amazing (and colorful) beet latkes with yogurt sauce. We had tirimisu and quite a stash of Christmas candies for dessert while we opened our Secret Santa presents. (Andrea and Julia had wrapped up cabbage and squash in newspapers and ribbons so that our guests would have gifts too.)

A minute before midnight we lit the bonfire that Andrea had set up earlier — a mountain of curly willow branches and a broken chair, that Andrea assured me was tiny compared to a true Italian bonfire. It was ablaze as we did our countdown, and then screamed, banged pots and pans, drank champagne, and ran and skipped and danced around the fire.

Yesterday was a singularly lazy day. It started with mango mimosas and tiramisu at a quiet breakfast table. Nyte stuck around for most of the day. Jeff and Andrea worked for a few hours, helping Bob refinish the big wine-tasting bar at Jacuzzi Winery.

Today’s starting with the same laziness. I made pancakes after chicken duty, and am just now finishing some oak-leaf/rose-petal/lemon verbena/oregano (for cramps, on Melissa’s advice) tea while we wait for Bob to show up. It was raining hard earlier, but it’s mostly stopped, so we’ll be sheet composting around our house and maybe learning about pruning some more.

I couldn’t be happier. Our fellow interns are all such fun, warm, and smart people. I can’t imagine a better place to find myself at the start of a new year.

Green String Farm

fwegan — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 23:22:17 +0000

I wrote this about a week ago and have only just remembered to type it up. =D

So we’ve been here for two weeks, and I haven’t written about it at all.

Green String Farm is THE SHIT. I swear it’s like summer camp in the winter, but with cooler people and a paycheck.

We (the interns – there are now six of us) live in a good-sized house surrounded by a handful of other buildings housing some Italian brothers and their iron shop. We supposedly work 30 hours a week and get a minimum four hours of lessons, but it’s been more like four hours of work a day and at least two hours of lessons. Very cushy.

The food is the most mind-blowing part. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but it makes sense that a good number of the people who are interested in responsible agriculture are really into food. Every night here is a gourmet treat, and nearly all our food — save grains and dairy — is from the farm. Tonight we had “easy” food: foraged mushroom, fig, and goat cheese pizza, a mozzarella, onion, and “squash pepperoni” pizza, a salad with persimmons and pickled beets, leftover peppery eggplant with stewed tomatoes, and rosemary shortbread cookies with tomato jam, all washed down with a couple nice bottles of red wine that Fred Cline gave us at the end of our lesson today. Learning to cook within the limits of season and locale is going much easier than I had expected, and making everything from scratch is incredibly rewarding.

New plans, new plans

fwegan — Sat, 08 Nov 2008 20:47:48 +0000

Chris and I are in Portland.

On Wednesday, we will be in Seattle.

A week after that, we will be back in San Francisco, trying to find seasonal jobs and a cheap place to live. We haven’t had any luck finding farms to take us in winter time, so I figured we might as well save up a bit of money and try again in the spring — you know, when farms are actually *farming*.

So. Seattle people, I hope to see you next week. San Francisco people, I’ll be back soon.

Reflection on Farm #1

fwegan — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 18:41:47 +0000

Chris and I recently spent two and a half weeks on Harmony Hill, a WWOOF (World-Wide Opportunities On Organic Farms) host that was less of a farm than we expected. The place is the home of an attorney and his wife. They have two dressage horses (dressage has got to be the bougiest sport in the world), four Nubian goats for milking, and an incredible amount of chickens that only manage to produce one or two eggs a day. The husband, Allen, has very, very little to do with the farming activities — in fact, he whole-heartedly refuses to consume any home-made dairy product — so it’s really just the wife, Elena, running the show.

Like I said, we expected something more than one woman who produces some of her own animal products — we thought we were going to be farmers! Fortunately, my disappointment faded after the first couple days, when I realized that we were somewhere much cushier than a farm. I kept a log of what I did every day, and most of it was relaxing: napping in the hammock, reading, swimming, cooking, re-watching episodes of Good Eats and Home Movies on my laptop, and more napping. We only had to work for six hours a day, and when you start at 6:30, that means you’re done awfully early.

A lot of the work we did was chores: sweeping miles of pavement, cleaning the common areas, weeding, weeding, weeding, cleaning up cobwebs, and lots of poop-scooping. We milked the goats once a day in the beginning, and upped it to twice a day later on when there were six WWOOFers there and we were going through milk like *that*.

The goat-milking was fun, (goats are pretty fun in general) and I got pretty quick at it, but the best part was the gardening. When we first got into town, we spent part of an afternoon working on a garden they have in Visalia, in the backyard of the house that serves as Allen’s office. We harvested pear tomatoes, chives, parsley, and did a heck of a lot of weeding on the unkempt garden. After that, though, there wasn’t much more to do — there weren’t any gardens on their property. In a walk around one day, Bridget (another WWOOFer who was there for two weeks before we arrived, and is staying through the middle of October) suggested that we turn a large, currently empty goat pen into a nice big vegetable garden, and a few days later, we had begun digging. (And digging. And digging.) We also turned a cracked koi pond in front of the house into a winter garden. The hardest part of that work was building a fence out of odds and ends (every tried to make a door using scrap chicken wire and staples? Ugh) and digging up cement-like dirt from the other side of the house to fill the two-tiered pond. Before Chris and I left, we had started a bunch of broccoli and lettuce seedlings indoors, and sown rows and rows of radish, Swiss chard, bush bean, turnip, spinach, scallion, and lettuce seeds. I’m not sure all of them will survive the last few hot days, and I’m even less sure it was a good idea to start everything at once (man, I hope they feel like eating a million heads of lettuce in a few weeks), but it was fun to research and try to figure out everything with Bridget and Chris.

We’ve spent the last few days doing even more vegging at Chris’s parent’s swanky house in La Qunita, watching their sweet but timid dog. The time off is just making me excited about the next farm we go to. We’re looking for a real farmy farm this time, preferably one that has a CSA program or sells at farmer’s markets. I’m so pumped to learn more!

As far as traveling goes, we’ll be here through the weekend, then out in Riverside till the 20th, and up to Santa Barbara for a few days, maybe a week, maybe more. Then we’ll be off to the Northwest till Christmas, but Chris wants to stop in the Bay Area for a couple days to see some folks, and I suppose I’d like to see some folks too. =D

More photos, if you’re interested, on Facebook. (Erm, for those who aren’t reading this on Facebook.)

A rolling stone gathers no moss?

fwegan — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 19:24:27 +0000

Chris and I are about to leave town — the train to our first farm leaves very early on Wednesday, September 17. It’s occurred to me that what I’ve loved most about living in this world-class city isn’t the food, the sites, or any sort of metropolitan vibrance thing. What I’ll really miss is living close to so many awesome people. So in between the frantic packing and last-minute planning that I need to do in my last nine days here, I want to cram in as much good-people fun-time as possible.

Let’s get together! Chris and Gabbi and I talked about having a MarioKart themed going-away party, but there are no real plans yet. So maybe if people let me know what their schedules are (mine’s wiiiiiide open) we could do lunch or something on an individual basis? I’d love to see you. =D

THE PLAN

fwegan — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 03:06:54 +0000

In the interest of avoiding going through this explanation with everyone I know, here is a summary of my plan for the next, oh, few months to year:

Run away with my love, work on organic farms for room & board. Go up and down North America. Adventure.

Before you start grilling me, please make sure your question hasn’t already been answered in the FAQs below.

When are you leaving?
We need to be out of our current place on the first of September, but we’ll stick around San Francisco until Chris gets his last paycheck on the 20th.

Where are you staying until then?
On people’s couches and maybe camping out in backyards. Got a couch or a backyard in or around San Francisco? Call me.

What happened to school?
Meh.

So you’re going to be a farmer now?
For the time being, yes. =D

Actually, we’ll be staying at places in the WorldWide Opportunities on Organic Farms network — some of which aren’t actually farms, oddly enough. Who knows how much actual farmwork we’ll end up doing.

What are you doing with all of your stuff?
Selling it, for the most part.

Have a rough itinerary?
Yup! We’re leaving on September 20th, hopefully to a place somewhere close by for a short stay to ease ourselves into the whole thing.

For most of October we’ll be in SoCal, visiting both of our families and hanging out in Riverside for some reason.

At the end of October we’ll make our way up to the Northwest (probably on a train). We’ll mix farm stays with doing the touristy thing in Portland and Seattle (Chris has never been) and hopefully see some old pals.

We’re hoping to find a nice farm to stay at up there until the holidays roll around — and surely, our parents will miss us so dearly that they’ll demand we fly back down to California on their dime. =D

After Christmas, we want to check out Mexico and hope to get around just fine with Chris’s minimal Spanish skills.

If we haven’t run out of money by March we’ll head over to the East Coast, since Chris hasn’t been there either.

How are you going to get around?
Trains and buses mostly. If we feel really courageous, we may get bikes at some point.

How are you going to pay for it?
With money, mostly. We’re hoping (admittedly, very naively) that if we start to run out of money we can plunk down and make some more — you know, Chris is a fancy barista and I, uh, can knit…

Seriously, you’re dropping out of school? But Jenny, you must go to school!
I’ll admit, I’ve only heard this one from uptight family members. I can’t imagine why they’re still surprised at this point; I’ve dropped out how many times now? Yeah, this is the fourth time.

(Here’s one that, actually, no one has asked yet, but I’m pretty sure someone will.) Hey, I live in one of those places you’re going to, and think y’all are cool cats. How about you come stay with me for a while?
You’ve got it.

Not that I’m sayin’ you have to or nothin’

fwegan — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 15:47:49 +0000

Soooooo, my birthday’s on Sunday.

Incidentally, my favorite webcomic artist has just begun selling her second book, and, um…

As usual I am offering custom drawings on personalized editions. But as a bonus, if you order a personalized edition for the first week – that is, until next Wednesday – I will personally give Hanna a SPARKLE BUTT in your book. If you know what this means, you will probably want it.

I know what it means. I want it.

Just, uh, just in case you didn’t know what to get me.

So long, farewell

fwegan — Sat, 31 May 2008 04:45:37 +0000

I gave my notice at the market two and a half damn weeks ago, and my last day is finally in sight: Thursday, June 5th. I’ll be down at The Fishbowl after work to celebrate with some coworkers, some friends, and maybe even some regulars. You should come!

For Yuliya

fwegan — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 02:26:19 +0000

Yuliya Shmidt: what’s up with your blog dude?
Jenny Cade: what’s up with *your* blog?
Jenny Cade: huh?
Jenny Cade: HUH?
Yuliya Shmidt: yours is woefully not updated
Yuliya Shmidt: mine does not suffer from the same condition
Jenny Cade: i really don’t have anything to say
Jenny Cade: ‘cept complaining ’bout the weather
Yuliya Shmidt: tell us about your boy
Jenny Cade: but then he might find it
Jenny Cade: and then i will be horrified
Yuliya Shmidt: i just spilled tea on my crotch
Yuliya Shmidt: unfortunate
Jenny Cade: okay, so here is my shopping list:
Jenny Cade: ooh, i can post that on my blog!
Jenny Cade: yaaaay
Jenny Cade: and i shall blame it on you
Yuliya Shmidt: excellent
Yuliya Shmidt: can’t wait

soymilk
maple syrup
tofu
couple jars of whole peeled tomatoes
ginger
tumeric
red chili powder
coconut milk

Tonight I shall feast on pancakes and palak paneer.