grow me dat luffa

the new farm comes with a handful of unforeseen little side perks--all full of delicious potential.  perennial herb bushes, waiting to rejuvenate after a winter nap.  mouthwatering berry patches—thick with weedy brush—waiting to be manicured.  nut and fruit trees scattered amongst the patchwork fields, waiting to be pruned.  and these luffas.  that’s right—it’s a luffa.  the shower kind.  the kind you always assumed was a sponge.  probably picturing some happy little luffa mermaid swimming around and collecting her salty bounty. 

well, turns out we were wrong.



walking through the field

hoop cleared by hand

our seeds are ordered, and they'll be in the mail by the end of the week.  hoes are sharp, beds are being prepared, and a tissue damp with water pressed to my nostril reveals a moist brown imprint of the inside of my nose.  the hour to prepare has swelled, crested and landed on our shores like a deep blue, white lipped wave smashing offa’ rugged boulder.  we’ve dug in.  our heels are in the dirt--our fingers too.  the growing season has begun, and lady georgia has been blessed with sixty degree days and a gentle breeze.  friends are gathering to share the workload, and a buzz of energy is building in the community.  we’re filling out paperwork to register for the farmer’s market, we’re planning plantings to accommodate both of our restaurants, and our creative juices are churning on developing new markets.  our backs and biceps are hurting in all the best ways.  seven impressive hawks are making tight circles in the sky above, and our dogs are howling their way around the new property. perennial blueberries, raspberries, and blackberry bushes stand choked with mature weeds, waiting for the fresh spring to bloom again.  tomato cages are being cleaned of debris, and stacked aside for the summer heat.  next week, seeds will enter the dirt, and before long, it’ll be next valentine's day all over again.

The backyard moon

our new farm is a beautiful, eipically huge, hyper-fertile, sandy soiled, big skied farm.  it comes with many perks, including a custom built wooden two bedroom home with all recycled--and stunning--woodwork on the inside and out.  one of the nicest parts is sure to be the hot tub on the back deck.  as we looked inside today, and imagined the glory of a clean and functioning tub, i couldn't help but day dream that we were in a schmitt's gay commercial. 

a guy can dream, right?

state of the farm

the farm we rented this week has been a highly successful vegetable operation for the last fifteen years--well known by the name backyard harvest.  boo, the landowner, and farmer in mention, was the first grower in town to plant the seeds towards developing what is today a bustling farmer’s market scene in athens. 

for family reasons, backyard harvest was abandoned just after the climax of this past summer.  all the crops, on the entire farm, were left in place, grown to maturity, and died where they stood.  nothing was cleared.  no plants were pulled.  no cover crops were sown to protect the earth from the winter’s cold breath.

weeds grew to maturity, spewing their seeds across our canvas, and choking the top layer of our soil into a dense weedy web.  today began the healing process.  today was a new beginning for what was once backyard harvest.

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shit just got real

this has been the longest break from writing since I began this blog—and for good reason.  the first month of two thousand and eleven has made me feel like one of those before/after shots of a new president.  wrinkles and grey hair out the ass—too much to do and not enough time.

Chattanooga, to athens, to california, to Canada, to Colorado, to Knoxville, and back to athens—living in a suitcase—half business, half pleasure.

her and I just returned from a whirlwind tour of viewing potential farm properties in the pacific northwest.  Wheels are turning, gears are shifting, and things are moving forward at ludicrous speeds. 

in the news of all news, her and I have rented our very first farm here in the dirty dirty south.

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organic farmer successfully sues pesticide sprayer for trespassing on his crops

listen.  I know you have an attention span of about ninety seconds, but if you don’t have time to watch this video, leave the site and come back when you can.  this is one of the most interesting, and most important videos I have ever presented on ihoc.

larry Jacobs is the first organic farmer to successfully sue a neighboring pesticide sprayer for damaging his crop.  this is now a legal precedent, which will hopefully change the game completely.  for those of you in agriculture, the importance and weight of this story will be self evident.  for those of you not involved in ag, you might need to step back to grasp the bigger picture. 

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