IMGP1403Somehow, it’s already mid-July. Not sure how that happened. It seems like we were just engulfed by the spring rush and now we are trying to get the potatoes out of the ground during this brief window of time between tons of rain and the daily chance for more rain. Here in Bugtussle, we just skirted by NOT getting the last couple of storms that blew through, luckily, leaving the potato patch (which is fortunately all hilled up, therefore drying out more quickly) just dry enough to fiddle with. My fellow farmwives, particularly Robin, have continued getting swamped. Literally, swamped. (You’ll be hearing more on this soon, I’m sure!) The rain has come in torrents, leaving us to witness the incredible force of raging water. Leaving us feeling helpless in the wake of all the rain.

As it goes, I am pretty much useless in the gardens right now. While I am pleased that my broken leg is healing quickly and nicely (no surgery will be needed!), I can’t help but also feel a little bit depressed about my inefficiency and inability to lend a hand. It’s my own deal, I know that. Everyone else on the farm is very supportive and encouraging me to take it easy. Truly, I’m thankful for that. Still and all, I like being busy. I like working. At this stage in my pregnancy, too, I want desperately to be able to continue to move my body and stay fit for labor. But I also have to be sensible about my limits, and not do anything that will create further damage somewhere else in my body. Oh, the razor’s edge! I am figuring out a few things that I can do (other than knitting) but I’m as slow as a seven-year-itch. I can wash dishes… as long as someone else hauls the dirty ones to the sink. I can drive the golf cart left-footed and ease up next to the blueberry bushes to pick from a seated position. I can scoot around on my butt on the floor with a hand broom and dustpan for sweeping. I am learning to ask for help, which quite honestly, I’m not very good at. It’s all very humbling for me but ultimately, a minor bump in the road. I know I will look back on this time with a sigh and a smile. IMGP1449


talkin’ about it

it was a strange juxtaposition of meteorological events for me. after a long, dry spell in drought afflicted califonia i returned home to an unusually wet kentucky. many inches had fallen in my absence and it has not stopped. personally, i stopped keeping track after the week when one full foot had fallen. gosh.


as farmers, we are entirely reliant on the weather for our livelihood. it is often a precarious place to be and one of my personal favorite statements is “our single most important input is entirely out of our control”. alas, we are willful beyond words and optimists through and through, so while we complain about the weather endlessly, we stick with it, don our rain gear or sun hats, and do the best we can. the other thing i must mention is farmers carry a lot of pride around: pride in our work, pride in our crops. we are a devoted group and stewarding the land is not always easy.  it was a two cup of coffee, grey, thunderous, sunday morning when my neighbor’s truck pulled into the driveway.


you see, my neighbor is on the verge of losing his tobacco crop. many, many kentucky farmers are teetering on the edge as well. hate to tell you dear california, but excessive moisture has it’s drawbacks! weed pressure increases, saturated soils drown plants, it is not pretty around here right now. today, this very sunday, it seemed that we all collectively had to share the story, the truth of farming this wet, wet season. the reality of fields too soaked to work. as i went online i noticed other kentucky farming friends sharing their insights.


you have to tell your story, whether that be a tale of sorrow or joy, in the process of sharing we clarify our own thoughts, mobilize our support, and feel relieved of the pressure of holding our tales within. my neighbor and my husband together, leaning on the pick up this sunday morning, looking over the land, i know it helped. it didn’t dry things out, talking doesn’t do that,  but they each smiled fully as they parted. they were no longer alone.





The rain has stopped for the time being, and I’m so grateful.  We’ve gotten somewhere between 6 and 8 inches of precipitation this week.  I know it could have been worse, but it’s still just too much.deluge 2

Nothing has been blown over, but there will be repercussions in the garden.  Time will tell.

There’s nothing like a deluge to show you where you’re at.  For instance, this deluge revealed to us the substandard nature of our livestock living quarters.

My thought for this week is as follows:

Necessity is NOT the mother of invention.

Do people falling from cliffs invent airplanes? (No.)

Do starving people create agricultural innovation? (No.  They often eat their seed supply.)

this is our funky goat house. oh well.

this is our funky goat house. oh well.

Necessity is the mother of funky contraptions that will do until we can come up with something better.

So be it.