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Hi Everyone,

               Over the last 17 years we have had many young people come and help out on the farm. It started when two college students wanted to experience farming first hand—so they would come up on a Friday night and stay until after dinner on Saturday night. Back then we had our big meal at 2:00 in the afternoon and then we would have Oatmeal Raisin Cookies and milk for dinner—and they made sure that we got those cookies made on time. A year later we had another college student who came to work for us three days a week for about six months—and he was one of the best right hand men we ever had on the farm. Then there was the young girl at church who when her parents asked her what she wanted for her 15th birthday she replied, “To spend a whole week on the Street Farm!” Her younger brother wasn’t about to let her come alone, so they both came for a week—which led to many more weeks off and on over the next four years as she and her two younger brothers would come and help out on the farm. One summer the two brothers spent a week in June, a week in July, and a week in August helping us out on the farm. For a while spending a week on the farm became the “In thing to do” with the young people at our church. It is always a joy to see them take home and put to practice the things that they learned. Living with us in our home for a week some learned how to make a bed, set a table, and eat together as a family. They learned how to paint and wallpaper and they learned how to fence and garden. They all learned to work hard and laugh a lot. One young lady was shocked that we sat down at the table as a family to eat our lunch—and went home to encourage her family to do the same. Another young lady went home and made napkins and began to set their dinner table with beauty. Two boys went home and fenced in their yard, and they also painted the house for their Mother. There is one place on our farm that has inspired many, many people—volunteers, workers, and visitors alike. That is the garden! My dear friend Lydia who comes up to visit me for a week every summer and a week around my birthday in late fall, went home last year and started her own little garden—and I get to see pictures of it when she comes to visit. The other day I received a garden picture by email from last year’s intern, Clayton. I was so excited to see that picture—for I knew the story behind that picture. You see, the very first day Clayton arrived on the farm it was a hot summer day in August and we were planting green beans. Clayton had never gardened a day in his life—but he wanted to be a farmer! He had already learned how to milk a cow and process his own meat: chickens, pigs and beef. He could also feed chickens and gather their eggs. Now he needed to learn how to grow some vegetables. If you are really concerned about how your food is grown and where it comes from—there is no better way than to grow it yourself. It didn’t take long for Clayton to realize that he didn’t like gardening. Ugh! Getting down in the dirt pulling weeds was not his cup of tea. I was determined that Clayton would learn to love gardening—and the only way to accomplish that is for him to be able to plant something and harvest it. So Clayton became my right hand man in the garden and we worked many hours in the tunnels weeding, prepping the beds with chicken and cow compost, shoveling composted walkways into the growing beds and filling the walkways back up with fresh woodchips. It was thankfully the beginning of the fall garden season so there was plenty of young plants to transplant into the tunnels: bok choy, collards, mustard, and Swiss chard to name a few. We planted the green beans three times before the deer and the rabbits left them alone. We planted carrots and spinach from seed, and we planted garlic bulbs too. When Clayton asked about planting some flowers—I supported him all the way. I was willing to do anything to help this young man fall in love with gardening. Sometimes we can focus a little too much on the ornamental side of gardening—and for someone like Clayton that can discourage you from wanting to garden real quick. Some people love every aspect of gardening (practical and unpractical, beauty and function), and others are only focused on the practical and need a purpose for their work—of which I can totally understand. When I was so sick once and needed to build up strength Mom tried to encourage me to move hay bales around in the barn—but they looked just fine where they were. Then she tried to get me to walk down to the pond and back—but there was nothing down there that I needed. There was no purpose in those exercises. A few years later we decided to build our Raised bed Cottage garden—and almost every bed had to be filled in by hand (one shovel of dirt at a time). I built some good muscle then and my health greatly improved. Then a few years later I had a flock of geese that lived at the pond that needed to be let out of their house every morning, and locked up every night—I finally had a purpose for walking to the pond and back. So I totally understand someone needing to have a purpose when it comes to gardening. I watched Clayton take care of his flower patch and I knew that the garden “bug” was starting to bite him. Clayton was with us for five months which was just long enough to not only plant green beans—but harvest and can them too! He also was here long enough to harvest the carrots and put them in storage. Of course he had lots of meals from the garden too! As we would work together in the garden Clayton would begin to “dream” out loud of what he would grow in his garden one day. Clayton left one week before it was time to plant potatoes—but as soon as the earth thawed out in Pennsylvania (where he is working on a dairy farm right now) he planted potatoes in the little garden plot in front of his house. Last Monday he sent me a picture of his first potato harvest—six crates full of freshly dug potatoes! I was so tickled pink to see that picture and to know that Clayton had become a gardener—a practical gardener who as long as he has dirt he will have food to eat. It is such a blessing to be able to share our life and skills with others—and even more of a blessing when they catch the vision too.

               While Clayton was up north harvesting his potatoes, I was down south trying my best to get some planted. For weeks I had planned to plant our fall crop of potatoes Monday, August 14. Then I came down sick the Friday before—really sick with very little energy. To make matters worse mealybugs had found our potatoes. They were heavily infested, but I thought that I would be able to get rid of them with a big soapy water bath. Monday rolled around and while my brain was clear, my head was not. I began to have questions: should I plant buggy potatoes? Should I work in the garden? Would working in the garden set me back? I can honestly say that God answered every one of my questions—though not exactly the way I would have. As soon as I was done milking I filled a big plastic tub up with very, very soapy water. I then dumped the potatoes in the tub and washed the baskets that they were in very good in order to get the bugs off of them. I let the potatoes soak for about 40 minutes while I sat at my garden desk and began to plan the fall garden. I then headed back outside and scooped the potatoes out of the soapy water and took them to the sink where I scrubbed each one with a toothbrush under running water to dislodge any bug residue. I took well over an hour to scrub all 101 of those little potatoes that were sprouting so nicely and were so ready to be planted. Once each potato was scrubbed I then gave them all a bath in rubbing alcohol and water—in order to kill any eggs that might still be on them. Then I set them in the sun for a little bit to dry, and then I put them on the back of the golf-cart all ready to plant. It was 1:00 by the time I finished and Steve and I were talking about planting the potatoes after lunch. It was sunny and hot, and the tunnels can be even hotter—but I told Steve to not worry about it for I was praying for some cloud coverage. We then went for our lunch break. When I came inside I saw that the temp outside was 102, and the heat index was 133! Mom told me that there was no way we would be able to work outside—but I was confident that we would have some cloud coverage. I started fixing my lunch and Mom headed outside to check on somethings and came back inside and told me that I should throw all the potatoes in the trash—for they were crawling with mealybugs. I was horrified! After all that work they still had bugs on them? I ran outside to see my nightmare—and sure enough they were crawling! I grabbed a garbage bag and dumped the whole lot in and tied it shut and then set the bag in the sun hoping the heat and lack of air would suffocate those terrible critters. So God answered that question—no, I should not plant buggy potatoes! I went back inside and finished my lunch—but before I was done eating, Steve’s lunch break was over. So Mom and Steve headed out to the garden to harvest the okra and trim the sweet potato vines from the walkways—for it was Monday. While I sat in the kitchen eating my lunch I watched the sky grow dark—God sent some cloud coverage and the temps dropped into the low 80’s and high 70’s! Before long it was raining too, which prevented me from joining them in the garden. So—no, I shouldn’t work in the garden while I was so sick. I decided to sit down and play the piano—and I had a restful afternoon instead. Mom was back before long and we enjoyed some time together watching restoration videos. Papa had left the farm around 11:30 to go to Jacksonville to pick up a van load of milk jugs and he didn’t get back until 3:30.

               We didn’t separate the calves Wednesday night, so that meant that I didn’t have but four cows to milk instead of ten. Only one of the four had a full udder of milk, and that was America. Rosa only had half an udder full because her calf isn’t big enough to drink her empty. The other two cows I had to milk were Emma (whose milk we were not keeping because she was bit by a snake) and Sunshine (who just calved and I had to wait for the colostrum to be gone before we kept her milk). Mom had more cows to milk than me—but two of hers were empty from the calves also. In the end we ended up with a whopper 8 gallons of milk—we usually are getting 16 gallons so those are some pretty hungry calves, I guess they drink a gallon of milk each. We had just enough milk to make kefir and yogurt and to put one half gallon on the shelf to sell. Around 11:00 the vet showed up to check on Emma and one of our six month old calves that accidently got bred. He was very impressed with Emma’s progress, and was very encouraged that she will heal after all. He said that it could take up to six months for a complete heal, but that she was very bushy eyed and full of life. The best news was that he told us that we could start keeping her milk—boy did I rejoice! Praise the Lord! Emma had calved two months before she got bit, and the vet said to dry her off—he also did not expect her to live. I had high hopes that she would live, and when she got better I still wanted her to be in milk. So I kept milking her, and now her foot is healed enough that we can keep the milk. The foot still has healing to do, but the sore that was the size of a fist, is now the size of a pea and her hooves are no longer spread apart by two inches—they are actually almost touching again. We were soaking her foot in Epson salt and charcoal until a little over a week ago  when Emma decided that she had enough of that and slammed Papa’s arm into the corner of a 2 x 6 piece of wood. Papa said that he was done too!

               Thankfully Mom and I had more energy and health on Friday—because it was a chicken processing day. We only had 38 birds, and we will do the other 42 this coming Friday. The batch grew slow, so we processed the bigger ones and left the smaller ones to grow some more. My sister Nichole knew that Mom and I had not been feeling well so she and her family came over to help us out with the chickens. We already had some help—but they didn’t know and besides it was very thoughtful of them and we enjoyed the visit.

               Saturday afternoon I had plans to spend upstairs in the sewing room—for my sewing machine was returned Friday evening, but alas God had other plans for me. After the orders were all packed Mom and I headed to the garden to harvest the okra and to check on the pumpkins. The last time I had checked them I found two pumpkins that were almost ripe—but then I got sick and then it rained all last week. So those two pumpkins were doing the splits when we got to them. One other pumpkin was rotting, and to our delight we found one pumpkin in perfect shape! The two pumpkins that had split were only surface split, so we brought them inside and cut them up, peeled them, vacuum sealed them and placed them in the freezer. When we were done with that we had to do the breakfast dishes that we hadn’t had time for because we had to package eggs and bottle kefir before we could milk the cows that morning. Once everything was done—we were too and so we sat down to relax before it was time to cook dinner. Hopefully I will not have to wait too long before I get some time to sew.

               We were blessed to get a couple of inches of rain last week, and those rainy days made for cooler temperatures. I have heard that it will be back to the heat this week. I am looking forward to starting seeds in the greenhouse this week.

Serving you with Gladness,

Tiare