Week 11.
Updates are difficult to write in August. It’s not really that there’s nothing to say. Mostly its just a matter of perspective.
In fact there are just so many narratives all coming to fruition (pun intended) at this time of year and we’re just so deep in it all, that it becomes difficult to sort out which things are newly developed this week and which things have been going on since what seems like the beginning of time.
Technically it’s all always like that. Afterall, the story of our pasture’s fertility struggles is really a story that starts decades ago. Perhaps even further back to when it was first logged. It really all depends on how you want to frame it. It could be our challenge this season, or it could be a long narrative about land use in America. Zoom in or zoom out.
In August, we’re up to our neck in all this. We’ve been picking cucumbers since the Renaissance. The weed battle has been a daily struggle since the times of Nebuchadnezzar. And hasn’t there been a weather anomaly every week for ten thousands weeks in a row?
It’s hard to know. So I sit down at the computer to tell you what has happened this week and it's hard to remember what happened. The grind is getting to me. It's all blurring together.
But wait. Things ARE happening. In fact half the blurr comes because everything that’s been rising is now converging. All those plants we stuck in the ground day after day after day are now all big and heavy with fruit. I’ts like when you suddenly look up from the dirty diaper and your child is graduating from college (ok, granted I have not quite experienced that one, but I’ve heard about the phenomena). We’re not surprised by the onslaught of vegetables--it’s just that it’s been coming on so gradually that it feels kinda like we’ve always been here.
But we haven’t. Just a few months ago our whole world was white and grey and sleeping. Today we’re knee deep in living breathing plants that are just dripping with edible globs of every color. Too quickly we become old and lose sight of the miracle that’s unfolding before us. The grind dulls our eyes.
Which brings me back to CSA. Because CSA is where I regain perspective. This work is hard. And long. And I would say it’s almost a given that we will lose perspective at times. But (hopefully) you don’t. Hopefully the fact that you are one step removed from the grind means this produce remains a fairly special and exciting weekly event in your life.
And when we meet at the drop site to hand over the produce we simultaneously RECIEVE energy from you. That’s right. When your eyes light up, we get a boost. When you are pumped about the perfect tomatoes we momentarily see again how marvelous they really are. As we load your bags we notice again for the first time the amazing array of colors.
We love CSA because the personal exchange brings life. We’ve said it before, but you keep this farm going. When the slog sets in and the sweat drips in our eyes, it’s awesome to be able to see with yours for a few moments and remember that fresh produce is awesome and every single harvest is a miracle.
So thanks for choosing to buy (some of) your food through our CSA. That commitment really does keep small-scale, local, sustainable, and nutrient dense food production going!
A look inside your share:
Tomatoes
Cucumber
Bell Peppers
Hot Peppers
Zukes
Carrots
Onions
Basil
P.S. Check the cooking page for a few new cooking ideas!