So, I haven’t been able to update photos in a LONG time, so these re from last fall till the present.

Mr. Calvin Bey doing a walk around on the farm, checking the soil.

(L-R) Resident, Jesse Thomas, Calvin Bey, and myself…but don’t look at me, not one of my finest moments.

Community garden, the “Before”.

Work party, where farm residents helped to clear the space.

You’re welcome KB.

Christmas Eve snow.

Ice Storm 2010

The homestead.

Paul spent a whole day building this snow fort, which I wasn’t too happy about.  I would have caught hell if I would have wasted n entire day on that.

It lasted for weeks.

Paul found a salamander while digging.

Community garden.

The “After”.

Represent.

Plots in the community garden.

Orchard.

Planting potatoes.

Richard, the resident arborist giving pruning advice.

My onions!

The goats had babies!

El Fin.

Strawberry, with and without sugar.  Raspberry, with and without sugar.  And as a special treat, apricot…all with sugar.  A little more than four dozen, in the bank baby!

After a month off of all possible duties, except the care of my children, I am back on the scene and happy to be here.  The lushness of Arkansas greeted me with 60% humidity and made the soles of my sandals come unglued.  California, I love you…but…you’re so arid and everything is dead.  Don’t be mad.  We can still be friends. I love you.

Paul was more than eager to hand over some chore duty when the kids and I arrived.  I think that was the first thing he said to me in the airport.  Not ‘Hi, how are you? I’ve missed you.  I love you!’  No, I think it was ‘Have I got a list for you!’.  And of course, after sitting at my Mom’s kitchen table and reading the newspaper all month I was ready to sweat and be active.

My first task was picking blackberries.  Now, when I left the blackberries were almost ripe, so the ones left on the brambles were the second and third coming, so as you could have guessed small and only here and there.  Now I was to pick blackberries for the “Blackberry Festival” which had been an annual tradition on this farm through time and memorial and was/is making a come back.  I had to get suited up in long sleeves, overalls, hat and leather gloves, because blackberries know what kind of gems they possess and have developed a keen way of protecting them.  Only the strong survive when it comes to blackberry picking.  So I’m picking and sweating like crazy and getting poked like crazy and hearing the earsplitting whine of mosquitos buzzing around my head…like crazy and for a few lousy berries here and there.  Not worth it, but I soldiered on.  I eventually picked a gallon, and my fingers show the price of poker, nicked and cut.  The berries were used to make smoothies for the party, which everyone enjoyed because it was soooooo hot outside and the smoothies were soooooo cold and delicious.

I’ve picked tomatoes as well, not too exciting, canned them up, sold some to Harp’s (grocery store on the corner) and eaten some.

I have just finished picking raspberries.  These delights were a lot easier to pick than the blackberries.  They too have thorns, but give the plant another thousand years and maybe it will figure out the proper defense against greedy little fingers like mine.  They were so ripe they just fell off as my fingers touched them.  Occasionally I would hear a “tishhhh” sound, as a berry would fall from my fingers and hit the tall grass, never to be seen again.  Then I would make a “pishhhhh” sound because I knew there went another perfect bite, slipping through my fingers like it meant nothing to me.  Like the character Gollum guarding his “precious” in The Lord of the Rings, as was I in the raspberry patch.  I picked about another gallon, maybe more of raspberries.  We are planning on canning, (say that three times fast), again today.  More JAM!

I had more to say, but I just thought of it.

Henry David Thoreau, know him?  Great.  

There is a very cute children’s book titled “Henry Builds a Cabin”, author?  Google it.  Any who, Henry the bear builds a cabin with the help of a few friends.  One asks “Henry where are you going to eat?  Your cabin is so small!”  And Henry replies by sticking his head out the window of his cabin “Right here in the bean patch, join me”.  Another friend asks “Henry, there is nowhere in here to read, where will you read?”  To which Henry responds “Come with me out into my library” to which he goes into an open meadow.  Another friend asks him where will he dance, there is no ballroom.  He leads the friend down the grande staircase down to the pond and says “Welcome to my ballroom!”  It’s worth looking up at the library and reading…even if you have no children.  It’s a great message.

You’re Welcome.

Read all of it if you wish.  I have a case of verbal diarrhea, if it doesn’t make sense, just roll with it, I know you can do it.

Some of you check, then get back to me and say “I checked it and you haven’t written a thing in a while”.  That’s when I say “I know”, and proceed to make up excuses, the main one being I had the semester from HELL.  But, you don’t need to know about that.  I figure I’ll update you all from the beginning of my tour here on the Brown farm, way back in October of 2009.

We moved here somewhat suddenly and our house wasn’t finished yet, so we packed into a 30 ft. + RV.  I was surprised at how much I enjoyed living in a hallway.  The key is organization, which the good Lord didn’t bestow upon me, so I had to learn a thing or two.  We lived in the RV for five weeks.  It was a training mission.  After being in such cramped quarters, 545 sq. ft. would seem like a palace.

We moved into the newest homestead in November 2009.  Like I said it is 545 sq. ft.  Despite its small size, it is very livable.  My children have their own room, with bunk beds and all of their other kid stuff.  My “living room” also doubles as our bedroom, we sleep on our futon/couch.  The kitchen is the main entertaining space, with a solid wall of windows for everyone to stare out at what makes Arkansas so cool.  There is also a “bathroom”, where we have a potty seat for #1 business, and we bring in a bucket for #2 business.  Gross?  Absolutely not.  Google composting toilets, and not the self-contained kind but the bucket system etc.  If you are of an environmental mind, you would notice the logic there, I don’t need to bore you with the details (even though the composting of hu-manure is quite exciting indeed).  We have no traditional electricity, our house is powered by solar panels.  I have one light bulb and a lamp…sounds like a little and it is, but it works out just fine.  We have gutters to install for rain catch.  At the moment I/We fill 5-gallon jugs with water and have a pump to pump it out of the jug and onto your hands, dishes etc.  Think glorified camping.  My cooking needs are met with a full size stove hooked up to a propane tank.

A little background:

The “Farm” as it is affectionately known as by locals has been around upwards of 60+ years.  First as a family plot, then moving into a multi-house community, to the present.  There are twenty other dwellings besides my own.  There are more properties still, just uninhabited.  Some are long-timers, some are repeats, some are newbies, some are second generation etc.  The Farm has a rich history and there is no question why those who live here choose to live here.  And that’s that.

Paul has been the main trencher-inner between the two of us.  He is out in the field every day digging and digging and mowing and digging and mowing and planting and mowing and digging.  Me, I’m inside doing my studies, or attending to my kids’ studies.  I dig a little, with emphasis on the little.  I weed more.  

This farm is 25 acres, houses included on that acreage.  There is a large farm-able piece in the middle, that Paul is responsible for and in the front.  In front of our house Paul installed six rows for victory purposes, and the greater mass in the back for market purposes.  We have no machinery to help dig or install, Paul is doing it all by hand.  There is an old Farmall tractor in a shed in the back that we are trying to get running with the help of Roy White, the Farm mechanic.  The tractor is just to keep the rest of the grass down.  

This year Paul hooked it up with a local plant star named Herb Culver, who is the proprietor of Bean Mountain Farms.  Herb and his wife Karen have supplied us with tomato and bell pepper starts, because we are growing for seed for them.  Have you ever thought about that before?  Growing for seed?  Seed saving?  You should.  Herb supplies us with plants, we supply him with seed to grow his crop for the next year.  We are really excited about this venture and its promise for a secure seed stock, a local seed stock.

PERMACULTURE… know it, google it right now.  Live it.

When I lived in Manteca, California (where I grew up), I didn’t notice much about my surroundings, except the obvious.  I never noticed weather patterns, I never noticed bird patterns, insect patterns etc.  When I moved to Arcata, California, I noticed a little bit more.  I was able to identify things and point them out.  However, Arcata is no match to what Arkansas can do to a body.  Or maybe what the Farm can do to a body.  I feel like  Heny David Thoreau.  I feel so connected in a way that not a lot of people are able to experience.  And that’s how a lot of people like to operate and yeah for them, fine.  I feel like the Earth is letting me in on something when I notice these patterns.  After the big thaw of 2009-10 the starlings in habited the bare trees.  Big clouds of black would get spooked and en masse move from tree to tree.  The sound was beautiful.  Next, robins returned, hundreds searching for worms in my yard and everyone else’s.  I can’t forget the Canadian geese flying south through the fall and winter, just lovely.  Now the bluebirds are back looking for nesting grounds along with blue jays and some that sing “Kate Brown, Kate Brown, Kate Brown”.  Spring is the finest season that Arkansas can throw at a player.  The weather is unpredictable and a lot of fun to try to figure out.  

I feel like I’m doing a terrible job of trying to give you a visual of what’s up, but you’re welcome none the less.  TTFN.

As all of NWA knows, we were suposed to get a “light dusting” of snow around midnight early Sunday morning. As of 1pm on Saturday it began to snow and snow and snow. By Sunday it was still snowing and by the time it stopped there were 8″ on the ground in front of my house. This has been the largest snofall in this area this winter. Someone, quick! Remind me of the date. OH YEAH! Mid-late March. Unbelieveable.

The snow is still falling. One of my neighbors said that it was falling at about an inch per hour. There’s a lot of it on the ground by now. I just made a lap around the farm and was suprised that there were not many footprints on the ground. It’s cold outside, true. But it’s really fun to walk around in as well, so neighbors get outside. I walked down the driveway to take a peek at the highway. There is a lot of snow on the road and people are still driving on it. Some faster than others. It was hard work to walk that 500 ft. or so. Like walking in sand, the snow is so deep. It was interesting also to hear the craking of the ice underneath all of the snow as you walked. Still cold. Quite beautiful. Also, if you’re reading this neighbors, there will be a sauna at Bayrd’s in like 30 minutes.

Right after I wrote my last post this morning at 10:45 am, the freezing rain turned into snow.  Beautiful billowy, large flakes.  It hasn’t stopped since then.  We are getting updates from those via phone and some who have the here-say.  It’s all different and everyone seems to get a thrill from what new insights they hear.  I hear the 4-8″ is going to be more like 8-10″.  Some one correct me, and please NWA if you read this and hear differently, please mention it in a comment, creating a dialogue for those on the other side of America who read this and go HA HA.  There are folks sledding outside and are having a good time.  It snowed on Christmas Eve and didn’t melt for a week or so.  I was really tired of the snow then.  As I look outside I have a jovial feeling toward it.  If you can’t beat em’ join em’ sort of feeling…even though I’m inside right now looking out.  I’m going to go right now.  And remember, no drive-y drive-y.

SO this morning I remained in bed because I knew I didn’t have to go anywhere. As Paul did the dishes and made the kids breakfast, I was lucid enough to listen along with the morning show on the radio. Callers from NWA love to call this guy during bad weather and tell him how the roads are. “It’s a solid piece of iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiice”. It’s hard to type in a redneck accent, I say that with respect. But people were saying it wasn’t so bad up in Bentonville, but that big rigs were jacknifed on both directions of I-540 in Rogers and don’t go to Greenland because it’s terrible. Being a few exits north of Greenland and a many exits south of Bentonville and Rogers outside of my window it looks pretty ominous. It’s about 22 degrees right now, with freezing rain falling. The trees are covered in about 1/4″ of ice, and for the most part still upright. Last year there was about 1″ of ice on everything and many trees split down the middle, the tops of their branches bending down to the ground under the weight. The day isn’t over yet though. I just don’t understand why businesses are still open in this weather, that poor people have to drive 25 miles north in it to go to work. Nobody is going to be out today shopping. Everyone got the message last year. Now every ice storm could be the “big one”. Again, stay warm, stay inside, don’t drive in your car to see if Wal-Mart is still open. They probably are, but who cares. Take care.