The News from Windflower Farm
Hello from Windflower Farm, where the weather has turned pleasantly cool and wet.
What’s in your share?
- Carrots
- Lettuce
- Kale
- Tomatoes
- Peppers
- Onions
- Beans
- Dill
- and something from our mystery tote
Your fruit share will include our watermelons or Pete’s peaches. Rosemary and potatoes will be coming next week, if our harvesting machinery works properly, along with edamame, cilantro and chiles.
What’s new on the farm?
On Saturday, a tornado passed just a few miles south of here, leaving downed trees and power lines, and dropping over 3 inches of rain across the area. I believe one person was hurt and some roofs were damaged. A photo taken in nearby Schaghticoke, with a friend’s house in the foreground and the funnel cloud behind it, reminds me of my childhood, when we would watch tornados from my grandmother’s front porch in Illinois. It took a path nearly identical to the one it took 23 years ago, following first the Mohawk River Valley and then jumping the Hudson to the Hoosic River, giving some credence to the curious notion that storms follow water. Several of us were texting back and forth, aware that our greenhouses can become giant spinnakers if the storm gets hold of them. In an ordinary year, this would have been an open house weekend at the farm. We might all have been huddled in our cellar, tents blowing in the wind.
This time of year, we do most of our planting and weeding on Thursdays and Fridays. The remainder of the week is spent harvesting and packing. We had an all day rain here on Thursday and, although there was much to do in the field, we retreated to the indoors for seeding, garlic trimming and machinery repair. The Medina family, clustered together in our new barn, spent much of the day listening to Mariachi music, the accordion and brass instruments blazing in their upbeat way, even when the lyrics are often sad. They also played recordings of several Mexican comedians, whose Spanish was way too fast for me to understand, but who had them in stitches. Their laughter and their apparent enjoyment of one another is a joy to watch. Before the need to take precautions against the pandemic, we all ate together in a big kitchen in the barn, where Wednesdays were potluck. So far this summer, we have not shared a single meal, and I think we all feel diminished for it. Food transcends language and brings us together, and I think we all miss that part of our working lives here. I imagine that you miss that in your lives, too. I find it good to keep in mind that it will not always be this way.
Have a great week, Ted