This winter, we’ve been attending a local farmers market as a vendor. There are so many interesting sights and sounds. Beautiful fresh vegetables and fruits: irresistible muffins and sugary items; and the smell of coffee in the air. The empanadas are delicious! You must try one!

The bell rings and people swarm the aisles. People stop by our table and the stories start. There are the usual stories about allergies. So many people stop by to ask about gluten-free foods. Fortunately, our oat flour is gluten-free so we can offer them an option. Then we talk to people who give us a laundry list of what their doctor says they can’t eat anymore. Finishing with that sorrowful, wistful look of missing something great. This week alone, we heard 2 people mention an allergy to oatmeal. I had to look that one up. It’s real. Some people have an allergy to the proteins found in oats. Who knew?

Then there was the older gentleman who had to stop and tell me all about the “nooda fish”. I swear that’s how he pronounced it. His grandmother used to make it and his grandfather used to love eating it. Then we started talking about other foods our grandparents used to eat and we found common ground: sardines in a mustard sauce. My grandfather would grab a can of sardines and a fork. In 5 minutes the can would be empty. I was adventurous enough to try it…and it wasn’t too bad. I wasn’t going to try the pitch on the spruce trees, though. I had my limits…

Back to the “nooda fish”. It took some searching, but I think he meant Lutefisk. It’s a traditional dish of Norway. It is made from aged stockfish (air-dried whitefish) or dried/salted whitefish (klippfisk) and lye (lut) (you heard right…lye). It is gelatinous in texture. Its name literally means "lye fish". The gentleman had mentioned “Norwegian” and “lye” so I’m thinking I found the right food. He was very animated while telling his story. He leaned in as he spoke of it as though it was a great secret.

It’s always great to talk about food…
We always learn something new...
And it’s always fun at the farmers market!

Now, before you get all excited you should know: this is about wild turkeys…not whiskey.
There is a gang of wild turkeys that roams our farm in the winter. Sometimes, they get close to the house. This morning they were right outside my window. My relationship with these birds is tenuous at best. They have keen eyesight and an acute sense of hearing. Any noise or movement causes them to flutter, fly and regroup at a safe distance.
Research on the internet will tell you their feathers are brightly colored; they eat berries & nuts; their eggs are a light speckled brown; they nest in trees; etc. All the usual things you think you want to know. Here’s what I’ve learned about wild turkeys:
They make a huge racket in the morning when they fly out of the trees. When in-flight they are relatively quiet. It’s the hoisting of their bodies out of the trees that creates the noise. Stretching legs, putt-putting to signal take-off, and unorganized feathers creates the ruckus.
In winter they travel in select groups. The jakes (young males) wander together keeping their tails low so they look unassuming. The toms (mating age males) travel with the girls that don’t have young kids. If I see 3 toms, I see 20 females. Quite the harems around here. The toms linger at the edge of the group while the females search out food and determine the direction the group travels. There is also a group of females wandering around with their mostly grown kids. Someone has to watch them.
These groups have regular travel patterns. One group wanders from the west pasture along the waterway to reach the corn box. There’s usually a good snack there. Then they wander to the north field and up to the group of trees there. The trees offer cover, are open to sun from the south and include a small stream. Another group wanders below the house to the watering hole under a couple of trees in the pasture. It’s always good for a drink or two. Then they venture up to the corn crib. Yet another great snack location. Then they’re off to the corn maze field and wherever.
Oh, and it’s always amazing to see them right outside the window…

Ever happen upon a scene that makes you stop in your tracks? Knowing that you finally did something right? Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

We’ve been caring for chickens for a few years now. There is a learning curve nobody tells you about. Buy some chickens, build some nests and let them roam the yard. Easy. Then winter arrives. Last winter, unfortunately, our girls got bored. They were busy losing feathers; picking at each other; laying almost no eggs; and eating the ones they did lay. I was disconsolate at best. What could I do? They were older chickens, so they wound up in the freezer in the spring.

We have new girls now. Pretty feathers, curious attitudes, wandering eyes, chatty. They spent the late summer enjoying bugs, eating grass and seeing who could fly highest into the tree. Winter is here again. Now what to do to keep them happy. I did some research and armed myself with some “chicken knowledge”. I helped the Farmer build a fenced area next to their winter house. Any day the wind isn’t blowing too hard, that door is open. The girls have the option to venture outside if they choose. It’s usually Mona who’s testing the wind to give the okay to go out. I visit them 3 times a day, at least. They like it when I talk to them and notice what they’re doing. Nellie, Mona and Buffy like to be petted. Bertha, Scarlett and Harriet remain unsure. They also like routine. I strew a cup of oats about the room every morning. Nellie has taken to hopping up off the floor when I arrive. She and Buffy (along with a white one I have yet to name) eat right from the cup. Every evening they get to enjoy their “flock block” for a few hours. That’s a tightly packed block of grains for them to pick at with their beaks. They’re expecting it each evening now. There’s a ruckus until it arrives. If Alice isn’t the first girl on that block, there is something wrong with the world.

The wind is low today so I opened the door to the yard this morning. Later on, as I walked around the corner, there they were: about half of my girls were picking at the ground, starting their dust baths, and happily enjoying the sun on a cold winter day.

I finally did something right…

The question is often asked, with a hint of sarcasm, “What do you do in the winter?” For those who work in an office, it’s hard to imagine we do much of anything. Farmers are seen in their fields all summer and when autumn arrives…poof! They’re gone. Well, picture the scene:

There is a low fire crackling in the fireplace. The snow is falling outside, creating a wonderful view thru our windows. I’m reading magazines and eating cookies. The Farmer is reading newspapers and relaxing in his lounge chair.

That’s what I imagine. It’s so far from the truth that I laugh to myself every time. It’s hard to keep a straight face. Since my arrival here at the farm, my winters are cluttered with more work than when I worked in an office. And it gets busier every year…

Our corn maze is open 7 days a week until the end of October. The Farmer miraculously finds the time to harvest a few fields. This usually involves repairs to the combine as well. A 30+ year old machine always needs a new part.

November finds us finishing the harvest (the corn in that maze), cutting copious amounts of wood (for Maple Syrup Season…you thought we burned that in our fireplace) and covering the strawberry fields with straw (after watching weather reports for days).

The calendar year is ending. It’s time to straighten out the accounting and figure out if our income will support us until June. Nope, we don’t get a paycheck every 2 weeks. We determine what needs to be ordered (tractor parts, strawberry plants, maple syrup containers, bee packages), contact people to set up activities (chefs for dinners, artists for Art on the Farm, local producers for our store) and determine our advertising goals.

The new year has started! Whee! It’s time for speaking engagements (so others can learn more about what we do) and business conventions (so we can learn more about what we do). Plus, events off the farm…farmer’s markets, expos, breakfasts…

It’s Maple Syrup Season now. We start this season walking thru 2 feet of snow and end it walking thru 2 feet of mud. Every other day. On a 2 mile trail in the woods we can only access by tractor. It’s a very hungry fire that boils the sap. It has to be fed every 15 minutes. From 6a to 9p. Most days. For a month.

As soon as the sap stops running, it’s time to tend to the strawberries. Uncovering the berry plants, renovating the rows, fertilizing the plants, planting new fields and the endless weeding.

Oh look, the warm weather again! Back to the fields…

We have barn cats here at the farm. I was watching them through the window this morning (there’s more to the story later) and started thinking about an article I’d read recently. It outlined a research project (Cat Tracker) tracking the movements of cats (those that roam outside). See the National Geographic article here http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/08/140807-cat-tracker-pets-animals-science-gps/ Buy a GPS device, attach it to your cat’s collar and let your cat roam as usual. This is only recommended with cats that already go outside. Adding a GPS to your indoor cat and letting it outside is not a good idea. Download the GPS information to an online program and it displays a map that shows where your cat has been visiting. It seems part of the reason for this project is to track how many wild birds and animals are being killed by cats. I understand the concern, but living here on a farm opens your eyes to the amount of birds, mice, voles, rats and other animals that live out here. Imagine how many are living right in your shrubbery.

Back to my cats this morning... There was a loud ‘clunk’ on the window and their heads all spun in the direction of the noise. Whoosh! Two of them flew by the window so fast I could hardly keep up with the motion. Just a blur of fur and tails. My eyes focused. They were snacking on a Cardinal! It had hit one of our windows and fallen to the ground. Perhaps these researchers should include bird killing windows in their research…

The cats carried the bird to my front porch. This area now doubles as a kitty-cat-café. As I swept the feathers away to blow in the wind, I realized there were valuable lessons learned this morning:
Our windows need decals...
Birds don't see glass...
Cats don’t eat beak...