Welp, folks, I can't say things have "slowed down" on the farm, but we certainly feel less frantic. The tomatoes have returned to modest production, the pigs are eating the dregs of retired summer sweet corn, cover crop is seeded, and hoop houses are all planted in preparation of what may eventually be cold weather. We're rapidly saying goodbye to our summer crew--Nick and Lill returned to Whitman classes weeks ago, Sam is off to run a race in the North Cascades and then spend the remainder of fall in Utah, Karolina commenced work at a local preschool, and Ammon is deliberating at least three different job offers! The ever-hardworking "Nick Monster" will stay with us through most of October, so we'd best capitalize on his help and bring in the big fall crops and plant out the garlic before he goes! With fewer hands and fewer hours of daylight we keep a decent clip through our days, but what may make it feel less frantic altogether is the lengthening hours of dark. On the one hand, our diminishing hours of daylight compress our workload, but on the other our bodies are adopting the autumnal pace. We are hungry to light up our ovens, to share our tables with friends we missed in the busy days of summer which were all too short, content to go to bed early and start our workdays an hour later, hopeful that our alarms will not sound and that we can cuddle under warm blankets and just smell the cold air.
This is all to say that I hope you feel it in your bones, too, because the change is part of what keeps us animal and connected to our world. If you want to eat extra these days, I'm with you. If you want to go to bed early and get up late, I get it. It's that time in the year, and I hope you find it welcome as we do here.
With gratitude for all that is September,
liz and the whole farm crew.
