The Wild Life at Farm Dover

I wouldn't say that Ed and I live a particularly wild life here at Farm Dover, but we certainly see it on a daily basis. In the past couple of days, we've seen:

• A red-tail hawk flying with a snake hanging out of its mouth.
• A raccoon trying to cool off in the pond down by the waterfall.
• A rafter of turkeys marching down the driveway.
• A day-old mockingbird baby.
• A snapping turtle hanging out on the bank of the pond.
• A coyote pup romping around our back yard.

Field Trip to Farm Dover

Ed's niece, Pam, and three of her best friends (all retired school principals) came to Farm Dover today as part of their Shelby County field trip.

They left Owensboro early this morning, stopped for some shopping at the new Outlet Mall in Simpsonville, made their way to Farm Dover for lunch and then headed to downtown Shelbyville to check out the antique stores. If their lunch stop was any indication, I'd say they had a pretty fun day of it. I know Ed and I had fun hosting them.

A Farmer of Tiny Trees

When Ed and I built our house in the country, I took a sabbatical from running my marketing firm, and then, I never looked back – shifting seamlessly from sabbatical to retired. Now when people ask me what I do, I proudly say I'm a farmer, which may be a bit of an exaggeration. The only livestock we have are honey bees and the only cultivation we do is my garden – plus a field of tiny walnut trees.

You already know about my garden; I thought I'd tell you about our walnut field. Back in the fall of 2012, we ordered 100 walnut seedlings from the Kentucky Division of Forestry. The total cost was $53 and in January 2013, we received ten bundles of leafless, bare root seedlings, each less than a foot tall with a scrawny root of about 3 inches.

We planted them in one of our fields that was not yet planted in wildflowers and native grasses. On a cold January day, we measured out a 10x10 grid and one by one, planted the tiny trees, placing an orange flag at the base of each one so we could see them against the winter field. Then it snowed.

For the past 30 months we have babied our tiny trees – weeding around the base of each one, mulching, mowing between the rows and watering each tree when there is no rain in sight. We have lost a handful to rabbits or deer or neglect, but for the most part, they have thrived.

This past week, despite the heat, we weeded around each tree and pulled up the flags. They are now large enough to see while mowing.

You may be wondering what in the world we are planning to do with this field of walnut trees: Mostly sit back and watch them grow. In 35 to 50 years, they may be large enough to harvest for their logs. Black walnut trees are valued for their logs, which are often cut into veneer. They are in high demand because of their beautiful color, strength, and durability.

We have hundreds of walnut trees scattered about our farm, but the very idea of bringing heavy equipment in to harvest them for timber is unappealing as it would create a huge mess. By putting them in an orderly field, we (or some future generation) can chose to harvest them when their trunks get to be about 24" in diameter.

Along the way, we will prune the trees in hopes of yielding high-quality, knot-free veneer and lumber logs. In the meantime, we enjoy tending to the trees and watching them grow. In another 7 or 8 years, they will start to produce black walnuts, which we can harvest and use in jam cakes and other such goodies, or share with the squirrels, deer and woodpeckers.

So, you see, I really can claim that I'm a farmer – a farmer of tiny trees, that may someday be towering 100-foot giants. Wish me luck.

Farm Dover's First Artist in Residence: Dudley Zopp

My paintings reflect my interest in geological processes and cultural histories of place.
Earth as a material substance has always captivated me and I have learned that each location
has its particular geological significance that determines the way its inhabitants live their lives.

– Dudley Zopp

Something exciting happened at Farm Dover last month and I have not yet told you about it. Ed and I hosted our first Artist in Residence. Our friend – and acclaimed artist – Dudley Zopp came for a week of study, sketching and watercolor blocking of landscape perspectives here at Farm Dover. (For those of you who are long-time readers of this blog,  you may recall that Ed, Jack and I went to New York City back in 2011 to see Dudley's exhibit at Coleman Burke Gallery.)

Dudley slept in the cottage and worked long hours on her art each day. She'd come up to the house for meals and small breaks – but most of the time, I'd see her sitting on a five-gallon plastic bucket out in the middle of a field, sketching or painting away.

Dudley currently lives in Maine, but is originally from Kentucky. Her goal for this residency was "to look at my native landscape through the lens of twenty years in New England."

She did a similar residency in Farnese, Italy, which provided inspiration for a series of paintings she calls Sight Lines. She is hoping to produce a companion body of work based on her sketches of Farm Dover.

Here are a couple of her Sight Lines paintings, inspired from her Italian residency.

I left a small stack of books in the cottage and Dudley was taken with a line from Wendell Berry's: Fidelity. Hannah is talking about Nathan (her husband) and says: "You never felt, looking at him, that he had left something somewhere beyond the cleared fields that he would be bound to go back and get." Says Dudley: "It's that feeling of something either left behind or waiting ahead for me, that defines both the paintings and a lot of the places I've chosen to dig into."

I was fascinated to hear her talk about her work. The last day that she was here, she shared pages from her sketchbooks with us and talked about her process for collecting the information that she needs to go back to her studio and create works in oil on paper or linen. She took photos, made sketches with notes, and captured scenes in small watercolors.

I can't wait to see the paintings from her time here. It pleases me to no end to think that Farm Dover provided inspiration to such a talented artist. I'm hoping she will discover that she needs to come back for more material. If so, a residency is waiting for her...

Making Traditions

For the past three summers Cousin Glenda has been bringing two of her grandchildren out to Farm Dover. This year, their little cousin Frances joined them.

Ed and I were in town for most of the day Wednesday, so when our visitors got here, the first thing we needed to do was bake a peach pie for our dessert that evening. While Frances counted out six peaches, Julia cracked the egg and Nathan peeled the peaches. In no time at all, the pie was in the oven and we headed out to the garden.

The kids sampled nasturtium blossoms, raw green beans and okra. They harvested squash and zucchini; they dug potatoes; and carefully picked a white eggplant. They checked out the pumpkins --which are getting bigger by the day.

We hiked through the woods and over the waterfall, looking carefully for a long list of items that were on their scavenger hunt list.

I showed them a catalpa worm with wasp eggs on it. We all agreed, it was kinda gross. We left it on the ground to make its way home.

We dined on BBQ on the back porch and played some ping pong. It was time to go home before we got to do all the things we wanted to do. Oh well, they will just have to come back next summer – after all: it's tradition!

Sweet Land of Liberty

I found myself getting teary-eyed more than once this weekend. We were in New York City celebrating our country's Independence Day and visiting with our youngest daughter, Mary. My teariness arose from being proud of Mary making her way in a big city and from an appreciation of the heterogeneous society that makes New York – and by extension, America – the great place that it is. 

Lady Liberty from Staten Island Ferry

We chose this weekend to visit as one of Jack's best friends from China was flying to America and spending the weekend checking things off her must-do/must-see list. Shaoting was planning to stay with Mary and we wanted to see her again as she was one of Jack's friends who nursed him back to health after his appendicitis attack -- and for that, we are most grateful.

I didn't think much about it being a holiday weekend; but turns out, it was a great weekend to be in the city. The crowds were down and the weather was just about perfect. And a patriotic spirit was sweeping through the Big Apple -- or maybe it was just me that was feeling susceptible to all things red, white and blue.

Shaoting was here on a visa that was set to expire shortly and she saw it as a chance to come see people and places that are so different from her and from Shenzhen, the city in Southern China where she lives. Visas to leave China are hard to come by. Travel is restricted -- and expensive.

 at One Trade Observatory

Most of the people that I hang around with in Shelbyville are old, white, fairly well off, drive pickup trucks, go to church most Sundays, and seldom venture far from home.  New York, on the other hand, is full of people whose skin, religion, language, dress and life experiences are 180 degrees different than mine. It was just what my soul needed.

Our neighbor at our Airbnb apartment was a Hasidic Jew (complete with sidelocks); the community garden next door to our apartment was a gathering place for Puerto Rican men who played dominos every evening. Our Uber drivers were named Juan, Abu, Pablo, and Gennadly. The preacher at First Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn Heights was a black, gay woman; the people whose fireworks party Ed and I crashed on the roof of our building were all 20-somethings. As we walked around town, I heard conversations in French, German, Chinese, Spanish and a dozen other languages. We sang from an African American hymnal on Sunday morning. We ate at a Jewish deli, a German beer garden, an Italian cafe and an American Steakhouse. Talk about a melting pot of sights, sounds, smells, and tastes!

Shaoting was excited to be in America. She hadn't slept in days, but didn't want to slow down for a moment. We looked at her list and decided to divide and conquer. In addition to her list of sights, Shaoting wanted to try New York pizza, bagels, and cheesecake.

Mary greeted Shaoting on Wednesday night and they ordered pizza. Check. The next morning, Ed and I took a crack-of-dawn flight and showed up at Mary's office, just as Mary and Shaoting were getting off the morning train from Brooklyn. We headed 'round the corner to a deli for bagel and lox -- and later that day we stopped in Little Italy for cheesecake. Check. Check.

While Mary worked, we visited the 9/11 Memorial and took a ride to the 107th floor of One World Observatory. Check and check. We then took the Staten Island Ferry past the Statue of Liberty. Check. We rendezvoused with Mary, and she and Shaoting walked across the Brooklyn Bridge (while Ed and I sat on a park bench to people watch). Check.

Shaoting's list was getting shorter. The next morning we met Jack's college roommate, Matt, for breakfast at Russ & Daughters Cafe. While this particular cafe was not on Shaoting's list, it definitely was on mine. It did not disappoint. So, check.

Mary, Shoating and Matt at Russ & Daughters Cafe

Ed and Shaoting caught a metro up to Central Park (check), visited the Metropolitan Museum (check) and Times Square (check), while Mary, Matt and I visited the new Whitney Museum and then walked the High Line in the meatpacking district.

At "America is Hard to See" exhibit at the new Whitney Museum

Shaoting was off to Chicago on Saturday morning, with a nearly completed check list. We said our farewells and then headed back into Manhattan, meeting up with Mary at the Union Square Green Market, with a side trip to the Strand Bookstore and some other miscellaneous shopping.

Berries at Union Square Green Market

Ice cream on a summer night at Louie G's.

View from our roof top of men playing dominoes. 

Ed and I crashed a party on our rooftop to watch the fireworks over Manhattan. My iphone just didn't capture the beauty. 
Photograph by Barry Yanowitz, used under a Creative Commons license.

Sunday morning we met Mary at First Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn Heights. The beautiful old church was the most diverse one I've ever attended and they made us feel welcomed. After church, we had brunch in the neighborhood before saying our goodbyes to Mary and heading to the airport.

So we are now back at Farm Dover with memories of a wonderful weekend. I miss Mary already.

Step into My Garden

I'm beginning to understand the power of gardens as places for meditation and appreciation of beauty. I'm not saying that MY garden is particularly beautiful, but I do find peace and beauty in it every morning as I move about inspecting my vegetables and again every evening when I take a basket out to harvest our dinner.

Here's a look at what is happening there these days.

The shelling and snap peas were on their last legs, so I pulled the plants up and harvested the last of the pea pods.  There is something I find very soothing about shelling peas – popping open the pods and then running my finger along the back ridge to spill the peas into a bowl. I can get lost in this kind of work.

I'm planning to sow buckwheat in the place where the peas grew. It should work out perfectly to harvest the buckwheat groats in October. And then I can use them in this recipe for chunky chocolate buckwheat granola.

I picked the first of the cherry tomatoes today.

The big ones should begin to ripen in about two weeks.  You can see that I've mulched my garden in cardboard and straw and it does seem to have fewer weeds than in past years.

The zucchini and yellow squash blossoms are producing like crazy. Every night I harvest more than we can possible eat and have resorted to foisting them off on everyone who crosses my path.

Even the pumpkins have started sprouting beautiful blossoms. We'll have to see if any turn into actual pumpkins.

My sweet potato vines are off to a slow start, but my red and yukon potatoes have bloomed and I've even harvested a handful of new potatoes -- replacing the straw carefully so that the rest of the potatoes can keep on growing.

Asparagus season is over and so the plants have turned into gigantic ferns, which shade a number of small trees that we are growing in pots and bags, awaiting transplanting in the fall. Some of these little trees are ones that I've actually grown from seed -- acorns and buckeyes. We've taken to picking up nuts that we find when we travel, and then I plant them. Sure enough, sometimes little trees sprout!

I harvested a half dozen garlic bulbs last week and then decided to leave the rest in the ground for another week or so, thinking they might get a bit bigger.

The onions are almost ready for harvest.

And every day or so I pick a handful of green beans and a few okra pods.

Raspberry bushes look great, but are only producing a random berry or two, which I usually just snack on while in the garden. Maybe the birds are beating me to them?

And I harvested my first ever eggplant this morning. Its beauty astounds me.

Perhaps the sweetest thing to come out of my garden is 4-1/2 gallons of honey! The week before last, we harvested 50 bottles worth of honey from two of Maggie's three hives.

The bees are happy – and I am too.

Tip-to-Root Eating

You've undoubtedly heard of nose-to-tail eating which involves using every possible part of an animal and thus minimizing waste. It seems all the rage at farm-to-table restaurants where you can order such delicacies as whole pig head, smoked tongue, pork paté, pickled pig's feet, smoked jowl, chitlins, even fried ears.

I'm trying to apply the same concept to my garden, but I call it tip-to-root eating. It seems to me that it takes a fair amount of the earth's resources to grow vegetables and I should make use of all parts, rather than chopping off the tops (or bottoms) and then throwing the rest away (or composting it). It just seems the right thing to do: the thing that demonstrates good stewardship for my garden's output.

I credit Tamar Adler with changing the way I cook. Her book An Everlasting Meal is a beautiful meditation on cooking and eating.  She's a believer in using the parts of vegetables that we may routinely throw away.

I'll never again look at bolted cilantro or dill flowers as evidence that they are past their prime and ready for my compost pile. Instead, I'll place them on top of salads, garnish a soup with them, or tuck them into a flower arrangement. Carrot tops, radish leaves, squash seeds, pea tendrils, green tomatoes, cilantro seeds and sweet potato leaves are all finding their way into my cooking.

I'm not the only one on this bandwagon. Here's an article from the New York Times that touts the virtues of using all parts of a vegetable. I love the title: That's Not Trash, That's Dinner.  The end of the article lists a number of uses for your vegetable trimmings.

Here's an example of my tip-to-root approach. This week I harvested the majority of my beet crop.

I brought the haul into my kitchen and washed the dirt off, cut off the beets, and prepared them for roasting.

I then turned my attention to the greens, which I washed in batches and spun dry. It breaks my heart to see topless beets at the farmers' market. I'll find ways to use them all week. They are my favorite greens.

Next, I tackled the stems. I'm planning to stir fry some of them, but the rest I chopped into 1/2-inch pieces and pickled in a red wine/vinegar brine. They will add a bit of crunch and tang to sandwiches or salads.

And the beets got canned. (See recipe below.)

I did end up taking a bucket of beet skins out to the compost, but even those will find a use by improving my garden soil next year.

So next time you go to the farmers' market or out to your garden, I hope you will think twice before tossing parts and pieces of your beautiful fruits, herbs and vegetables.

________________________

Red Wine Pickled Beets
Makes 4 pints

Ingredients
3 lbs. beets
Olive Oil
Salt

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Trim away beet greens. Nestle beets in a baking pan and coat with a splash of olive oil and a few generous pinches of salt. Cover with aluminum foil and roast for 1 hour, or until beets are tender. Once the beets are cool enough to handle, rub the skins off with the fingers or a kitchen towel. 

Slice the beets into thick wedges. Weigh the slices, setting aside 2.5 lbs. to pickle.

Pickling Ingredients
2 cups red wine vinegar
1 cup red wine
1/2 cup water
1/4 honey
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon Kosher salt
2 teaspoons black peppercorn
8 thyme springs
4 rosemary springs
2.5 lbs. beets: roasted, peeled and sliced.

1. In a pot, bring the vinegar, wine, water, honey, sugar, and salt to a boil. Keep hot.

2. Scald 4 pints jars in a large pot of simmering water filled with a rack – you will use this pot to process the jars. Lift the jars from the hot water and place the jars on the counter. Add 1/2 teaspoon peppercorns, 2 thyme sprigs, and 1 rosemary sprig to each jar, and then pack in the beets. Meanwhile, soak the lids in a pan of hot water to soften the rubber seal.

3. Transfer the brine to a heat-proof pitcher and pour over beets, leaving a 1/2 inch head space from the rim of the jar. Check the jars for air pockets, add more brine if necessary to fill in gaps. Wipe the rims with a clean towel, seal with the lids, then screw on the lids until snug but not tight.

4. Place the jars in the pot with the rack and add enough water to cover the jars by about 1 inch. Bring the water to a boil and process the jars for 10 minutes (start the timer when the water reaches a boil). Turn off the heat and leave the jars in the water for a few minutes. Remove the jars from the water and let cool completely. Tighten the lids and store in your pantry or give away a gifts. 

Snakes Eyes

While out walking this morning, I cut through a seldom used path and came eyeball to eyeball with a snoozing garter snake. He was all curled up in a blackberry bramble.

I was pretty sure he was asleep as he didn't move when I took his photo. When I got back home, I looked it up and sure enough, snakes sleep with their eyes open. Seems they have no eyelids, so they can never close their eyes or blink. Instead of eyelids, they have something called spectacles (or brilles), a thin, clear membrane that covers their corneas. Evidently, they can also close their retinas when they are sleeping.

I'm not a big fan of snakes, but to my knowledge we don't have any poisonous snakes slinking around Farm Dover and in fact, we hardly ever see these harmless garter snakes. Like all snakes, they are carnivores and will eat almost any creature they are capable of overpowering: slugs, earthworms. leeches, lizards, amphibians, ants, crickets, toads, minnows and rodents. Much to my dismay, they also sometimes eat bird eggs.

In turn, they are eaten by large fish, bullfrogs, snapping turtles, milk snakes, crows, hawks, great blue herons, raccoons, foxes, squirrels and shrews.

I left him there in the blackberry bramble, sunning and snoozing. I figure there is room for all creatures here at Farm Dover.

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