Sweet Home Chicago

I have made it back to Chicago. It was a grueling three days of traveling, especially after I ran out of downloaded podcasts by lunchtime yesterday. However, it was also an amazing drive. We really do live in a magnificent country. For reasons that are more than coincidence, it seems that some of our most unpopulated states are also some of the most beautiful.

One observation that I saved for this last post was that if I had done this roadtrip in Europe, the drive from Chicago to Sorrento is about the same distance as Edinburgh to Istanbul. In Europe, I would have passed through 11 countries that speak more than 11 distinct languages. However, in North America, I only passed through two countries and only encountered one language the whole time. While this is largely due to to the unfortunate (historical) American belief in "Manifest Destiny," the scale and size of the United States and Canada really is breathtaking.

Anyway, here's the final stretch of my drive:


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When I got up in the morning in Sioux Falls, I decided that I had time to stop by the falls on the Big Sioux River. It was strange seeing a waterfall in a park in the downtown of a small city. But, apparently, it was even stranger a few hundred years ago for European settlers to encounter a waterfall in the middle of the prairie. Other than this attraction, Sioux Falls didn't have a ton going on. It's the corporate headquarters for CitiBank, which I already knew from mailing in credit card bills every month. The city has also been growing a lot every year, but they still have less than a quarter of a million people in the town.






As you could see from the map above, Sioux Falls is right by the border into Minnesota. When I entered the state, I decided it would be appropriate to listen to Dylan albums across the entire state, since that's where he's from. This was a good strategy since, as I mentioned earlier, I was running dangerously low on podcasts. I had already listened to about 15 episodes of Car Talk, the new This American Life episodes since I was on the farm, all of my RadioLab episodes, and 6 months of fiction readings from The New Yorker. Everyone who was big into roadtrips recommended books on tape for my trip--now I understand the advice. When you're along in the car for many, many hours, it's nice to hear human voices rather than the same songs over and over again. Car Talk from NPR was probably the best show for this, because the entire show is basically a series of genial conversations in which you feel involved.

At lunchtime, I stopped in LaCrosse, Wisconsin for a bite to eat and then continued on to Madison, Wisconsin to meet up with an old friend from college. It was really nice to see her--we talked about what we're up to now, reminisced about college, and took a walk through her neighborhood. LaCrosse and Madison were both really nice towns, and really close to Chicago. I think I'd like to go back in the near future to spend some more time there.

After driving the 4960 miles, the last part of my journey was to offset the carbon that I had my car pump into the air on the drive. I know carbon offset calculations are supposed to be somewhat dubious, but it seemed hypocritical to spend three weeks working on an organic farm and enjoying the natural beauty of British Columbia without doing this. It was less than 20 dollars to offset all 5,000 by funding reforestation efforts around the world. Reforestation seemed appropriate after seeing all of the logging that was going on up in Canada.

The last thing I thought I might reflect on was whether this roadtrip was the adventure I wanted it to be. Whether I learned what I wanted to learn, experience what I wanted to experience, see what I wanted to see. Ira Glass had a great quotation about roadtrips in Episode 102 from This American Life, but I'm not sure I agree with it anymore:

"Any roadtrip is going to feel longer than you think it will. And you'll be tired and you won't get a meal exactly when you're hungry, you never find a bed exactly when you want to go to sleep, and you're probably not going to find out what it is you got on the road to find out in the first place. And you know that--you know all that going into it. And you still, we all still, buy into the cliché about roadtrips: that what a roadtrip stands for is hope. That somewhere, anywhere, is better than here. That somewhere, on the road, I will turn into the person that I want to be. I'll turn into the person that I believe I could be, that I am. And, come Memorial Day, we hit the road, you and me, and a whole great nation, with high hopes and new expectations for the future."

You see, my problem with this quotation is that, for the most part, I did eat when I was hungry, I did sleep when I was tired, and I did find out what it is I was hoping to find out on this roadtrip in the first place. Though, to be fair, the one night that I didn't get a meal when I wanted one, I got pretty crabby. Kristin can attest to that... But, despite the fact that not every roadtrip can live up to the cliché, the American fantasy of the open road, this particular journey was exactly what I hoped it would be, and, before I even got home, I was thinking about where I'd like to drive next.

And with that, I am signing off. Thank you all for reading. I have found that the process of documenting my experiences has been a fulfilling one. Hopefully my journal entries have been worthwhile to you as well.

Billings to Sioux Falls

Today was another long day of driving--about 650 miles. I went through Montana, Wyoming, and South Dakota. I stopped in Gillette, Wyoming for lunch and the town was mobbed. The National High School Rodeo was in Gillette this weekend, which I think drew a lot of people. Every restaurant had a full parking lot, and I even had to wait in line to buy gas. Also, there were a lot of little kids around in cowboy hats. I felt a bit out of place.

Wyoming is scenic:



Eventually, I made my way to Mount Rushmore. I am glad I saw it, but I am also glad I didn't get sucked into the 2 hour audio tour. I was in and out in about 25 minutes, particularly because the tourist town right outside the gates of the park (Keystone) was not appealing to me at all.


I really wanted to set up a photo that made it look like my head was on the mountain. It worked alright, I guess:


I also thought I'd try out the sepia tone mode on my camera:


Here's the route I took today:


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On The Road Again

Whew, the last two days have been a whirlwind of activity! Wrapping things up at the farm was a bit sad, but also very busy. After working a full day, I had to finish my laundry, pack my bags, write in Patrick and Colleen's guest book, obtain a few souvenirs, return some borrowed books, clean up my car, wash my water bottle, and probably a few more things I forgot. Also, I helped Graham soak Soleil's foot in an iodine solution--she ran down the street after another dog earlier in the week and tore up the pad of her food. Since Patrick and Colleen are away this weekend, Graham is taking care of this job for the weekend.

Friday evening was also marked by some other excitement--I saw my first black bear! I kept talking about how I wanted to see a bear, especially if I got to see it from the safety of my car. After being in Canada for three and a half weeks, it was starting to look like it wasn't going to happen. However, at the end of the day at the end of my time in Sorrento, Graham and I saw a bear run right out in front of my car as we were driving to Tappen to get ice cream. We were barely 100 yards away from the property when we saw it, so hopefully it isn't interested in the pigs or beehives on the farm. I hit the brakes as the bear barreled across the road, and when I was stopped, I tried to take my camera out of my pocket. Unfortunately, I was just a little too slow and the bear was gone before I could capture it on film. He was a nice looking bear, though. Graham reckons he was 2-3 years old.

After the bear encounter, we continued on to get ice cream at the Tappen Coop convenience store. Patrick and Graham had been talking up how big the ice cream cones were there, but I foolishly doubted them. They said that a single scoop there is more like a triple scoop elsewhere. I ordered a double scoop (sextuple scoop), which was a huge mistake. I think this was basically a pint of ice cream (or more) balanced on a small cone:


I look pretty happy before eating the cone, but I don't think I looked quite so happy as I struggled to finish it. I didn't actually make it through the whole thing, which is rare for me. I was defeated.


I also picked a strange flavor. Apparently, a common ice cream flavor in Canada is called "Tiger Tiger," which is orange ice cream with licorice swirls. The result is an ice cream that is both visually appealing and a culinary disaster. If I tried to make a similar flavor at home, I think I would do orange sherbet with blackcurrant or blackberry swirls. You'd get the same aesthetic, bit it would taste a whole lot better.

And for my last farm picture, here's one from Crannog:


As for my day today--I've been driving for most of it. I got on the road by 5:30 this morning and arrived in Billings, Montana around 10:30 at night. I made really good time, but at the cost of taking a less scenic route than was recommended by everyone at the farm. Instead of going to Revelstoke and going south through the Slocan Valley, I went through the Okanagan Valley. The Okanagan is the main fruit producing region in Canada, but it looks rather arid. Apparently, had I gone through the Slocan Valley, I would have been rewarded with more beautiful mountain views and a free ferry ride across the Upper Arrow Lake. However, it also would have added and hour or two to my drive today, which I didn't think I could afford. After all, Sorrento to Billings is nearly 900 miles as it is:


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The Final Days

Well, my time on the farm is drawing to a close. I have to say, I've had an amazing time on this trip. This farm is a really special place, and I've felt very lucky to be a small part of it. It's strange to think that after I leave, things will start to change here very soon. Patrick and Colleen will be moving to their new farm in the Kootenay region of BC, and new tenants moving in to farm Brian and Rebecca's land.

The work I've done over the past few days has been typical of what we've been doing here over the past few weeks, but it has also been timed perfectly for me leaving with a sense of accomplishment. The last of the garlic varieties is now out of the ground, we finished weeding the onions, and we harvested the last of the green onion seed. Also, I captured my first hummingbird on film! I've seen a few since I've been here, but this time I had my camera ready:



After work yesterday, Brian and Rebecca invited us along to a dinner at the Neskonlith Community Center. The Neskonlith are a band of the Secwepemc Nation, who are indigenous to this region of British Columbia. One interesting thing I learned while I was here is that Canadians use the term "First Nations" in the way we use "Native American." I like this usage because when people here "Indian" or "Native American," it makes it seem like all people who were indigenous to the Americas were part of the same ethnocultural group. Of course, this is not the case--the Americas were inhabited by people from many different nations with distinct languages and cultural practices. "First Nations" does a nice job of recognizing this.

In any case, the dinner we were invited to was actually the kickoff for a workshop about the struggles that indigenous peoples have with their governments. The people who organized the event recognized that many of these struggles were shared by indigenous people around the world, so they were hosting a pair of South Africans who could describe their experiences with organizing their people to end apartheid. These guests, and several others, took an opportunity to speak and introduce themselves. In addition, three Neskonlith elders spoke to everybody about their experiences and struggles.

The Neskonlith are also working with the Shuswap Regional Food Network to try to secure their future independence from the corporate food network (that is, companies like Safeway). A lot of people spoke about how the land in the Shuswap region used to provide for their people, and that it should return to that model--local agriculture, combined with sustainable hunting/fishing on their traditional lands. The meal we ate was a demonstration of this goal. They served elk meat that was hunted locally and pit-cooked in the traditional way, locally-grown produce used in a variety of dishes, salmon, and a dessert made from "soapberries." While I didn't eat any of the elk or salmon, I did get to try soapberry foam. The berries are gathered in the mountains, and then their juice is whipped into a foam and mixed with sugar:



The result is a bittersweet, lathery foam that is quite pleasant. The fluffy mixture of sweet, bitter, and berry-flavor is really very unique. Brian compared the experience to a good ale--creamy foam, sweet at first, with a bitter finish. While it's a good comparison, I do have to say that the bitter finish reminds me more of the bitterness of quinine in tonic water. Then after dinner, the evening was concluded with a traditional song/prayer to wish their guests a safe journey home. While this was intended for the workshop guests who traveled from places like South Africa and Nova Scotia, hopefully it will help me on my drive home, as well.

And, just to top everything off, we had a vibrant rainbow over the mountains to gaze this evening:

A Walk up the Adams River

Today was my last day off on the farm. Now it's three more days of work before I drive home. Since I don't have much time left here, I wanted to make sure I got out and saw a couple more things. I asked Patrick what he recommended for a leisurely hike/walk. His suggestion was the Adams River trail, which was perfect. I got there at about 9am, and I was the only car in the parking lot. The natural beauty I witnessed on the trail rivaled what Kristin and I saw in Glacier National Park, but this was a lot quieter. The tranquil landscape, the conspicuous lack of other humans, and the roar of rushing rapids of the Adams River made for an almost overwhelming experience:


After about a half an hour of walking, I came upon a small beach along the bank of the river and decided to stop and enjoy the water for a bit. Some large rocks blocking the current a bit upstream from the beach made for some gentle waters right in front of me, so I decided to dip my feet in the water:


After that, I decided to take out the book I've been working on today (Michael Pollan's The Botany of Desire) and read on the beach for a little while. As I was laying on the river gravel reading my book, I occasionally noticed some rustling in the brush along the river. That made me a little nervous, because Colleen told me that she often sees bears there in morning when she goes jogging with her dog, Soleil. But every time I looked up, there was nothing there. So, eventually, I just got absorbed into my book.

That was a dangerous idea because after a few chapters, I suddenly noticed something out of the corner of my eye. I looked up, and it was a little black bear cub. I began to panic... where there's a bear cub, there's an angry momma bear nearby. For a split second, I thought about running. Then I thought about slowly moving away. But before I could really process anything, the brush along the river bank began to rustle as a large creature prepared to emerge from the undergrowth.

And then I saw her. A big, bad... middle-aged woman with plus-size khaki shorts and a sunhat. I looked down at the black bear cub and realized it was in fact a fluffy black Pomeranian. The lady thought the whole thing was pretty funny. To be fair, her dog really did look like a cute little bear cub. On the plus side, she took a picture for me:


The rest of the hike was relatively uneventful. It was serene and perfect, but there's not much else to write about. I did stumble upon some wild raspberries, which made for a nice snack:


After the hike, I went back to Salmon Arm to do a tour of Gort's Gouda Cheese Farm. There was only one problem with the tour... there was no tour. Even though they advertised tours from signs on the highway, it turns out the "tour" is a 6-minute DVD. However, they encouraged me to have a walk around the premises and to feel free to go into the barn to pet the cows and sheep. I did so happily, and the calves were really friendly:

The "tour" of the cheese farm only took about 20 minutes, but I had driven all the way to Salmon Arm just for that. So instead of driving straight back, I went to see Inception. It was worth a watch for any of you who are considering going to see it.

A Lazy Day Off

I didn't accomplish too much today. I woke up at 6:30 this morning, and my back felt twice as bad as yesterday. It hurt to turn, it hurt to sit up, it hurt to inhale deeply, and it really hurt to sneeze. I stayed up until around 8am, but since the only thing that didn't hurt was laying on my back very still, I went back to bed until a little after 11:30. After the extra sleep and some ibuprofen, my condition was very much improved. I'm still not my old self again, but I felt well enough to take a drive to Salmon Arm to do some shopping. There's a few things I needed to pick up at the store before heading home, and also a few little souvenirs I wanted to pick up. There's not a whole lot of shopping in Salmon Arm, but I got the job done. I also purchased a frozen blackberry peach pie that I am going to throw in the oven on my last night here! I think the best pie I've ever made was mulberries and nectarines, so this one should hopefully be just as good.

I have to say, it felt a bit weird to walk around a shopping mall this afternoon. I've spent the past three weeks enjoying nature, working with my hands, and getting away from consumer culture. It's amazing how no matter where you are in the world, a shopping mall is a shopping mall. Whether it's Chicago, IL, Lima, Peru, or Salmon Arm, BC, malls have the same selection of stores, the same drab architecture that directs your attention away from the corridors and into the shops, and the same throng of middle-class shoppers. The only thing that differentiated this mall from one in the US is that there were overtones of Canada's position as a member of the British Commonwealth. The department store I went into (Zellers) had a selection of candy that looked more like that of an English supermarket than an American one: Smarties (Nestle's version of M&Ms), Cadbury chocolate bars, Quality Street sweets (also by Nestle), and a few others. Also, the book store in the mall was called "Bookingham Palace" and there was a restaurant with a London phone booth and pictures of people fox hunting. The western half of inland Canada has actually been very interesting to me because the culture certainly does have some influences from Britain and from the American West (cowboy culture).

After I finished shopping, I considered stopping in the theater to catch a film, but I was a half an hour late for Inception, and I didn't really feel like watching The Sorcerer's Apprentice, particularly because the girl selling tickets recommended against it. So I came back to the farm instead. I did some reading, made a few phone calls home, and took a nap in my favorite spot under the cherry tree. There's nothing like dozing off in the grass in the shade of a tree with a warm breeze blowing on your face. The only sounds I could hear were bird chirping and the occasional buzz of a bumblebee. Patrick and Colleen's dog, Soleil, also decided to stop by for a nap:


After my nap, I took around the farm to take some pictures. Here's a stone circle that is quite reminiscent of a small Stonehenge:



Too bad the grass is so long there, it's hard to see it in the picture. Also, a took a few pictures of flowers:





I have to say, I certainly am going to miss the farm when I leave on Saturday. This is such a special place, and I've really enjoyed being a part of it. I've been trying to pinpoint what it is that I am getting here that sometimes might be missing from my life at home. I think it's balance. Everyone here seems to lead such balanced, rich lives. When people here have time off from brewing or farming, they spend it doing fulfilling things--painting murals, making felt, picking cherries, tending to the garden, baking bread, canning jam, making paper or candles. People here also go running in the morning, do yoga, spend their weekends hiking or camping, and more. I'll also miss mealtime--cooking for everyone when its my turn, eating food picked from the farm every night, and unwinding together after a long day of work. But I've still got a few more days here, and I'm looking forward to seeing everyone from home--it feels like ages since I last saw my friends and family.

It looks like I might be doing some leisurely hiking tomorrow, so I'll tell you all about it if that pans out.

Garlic Galore

Garlic harvest is finally finished. It took many days, but all 12,000 plants are out of the ground and hanging in the shed. Or almost all 12,000 plants, at least. We lost a few more plants to neck rot (the fungus we were looking out for in the past). Also, voles ate a few bulbs and I found out that couch grass (also known as quack grass) sends out roots with spikes on them that can grow right through garlic bulbs. Once the clove inside is exposed, the bulb will not cure and store very well, so it has to be eaten fresh or thrown away.

By the way, it looks like we finished just in time--the rain seems to be coming through tonight, and our bodies have just about had it. Patrick and Colleen were feeling sunstroked, Graham's wrists were hurting from all the plants he pulled, and my back is more sore than it's ever been in my entire life. I took a couple of ibuprofen at lunch, which seemed to help a bit.


Here's the company logo from a seed stand that Patrick and Colleen had at a local store:


After we finished up work today, I cooked up some dinner. We had a lot of collard greens left from the market, so I made collards, biscuits and gravy, and grilled vegetables. This was everyone's first experience with Southern food, but I think they all enjoyed it. There was very little food left, which is always a good sign.

Finally, we've had some magnificent skies tonight as the rain clouds have started rolling in:


I'll try to write more over the next couple of days, but I am off tomorrow and Tuesday, so I might do a lot of sleeping and lounging about. Unfortunately, such activities don't make for interesting blog material.

So. Much. Garlic.

I've spent the majority of the past two days working on the harvest. On Friday morning, we did a bit of harvesting for the Sorrento farmer's market that takes place on Saturday mornings. Graham and I picked some sweet peas, kale, collard greens, and carrots. The peas are interesting to pick because they develop from the bottom of the plant up. You can't just pick all of the pods you see and call it good. Rather, you need to give each one a little squeeze to see how firm they are. A pod that is ready to be picked is filled out and plump because there are fully developed peas inside. On the other hand, a squishy pod is full of underdeveloped peas and needs to stay on the plant for another day or two. Apparently, after the first peas are ready, then the plant will have newly mature pods every two days until they are gone. Then all of these plants go into a cold water bath so they can be rinsed off and protected from wilting. After the bath, the veggies get packed into a box and stored in the cooler.

The only other excitement during the market harvest was that the collard greens have clearly been snacked on by deer. They were fine last week, so that means that there have been deer in the garden in the past seven days... the coyote urine is not working. I really think some consideration should be given to getting the electric fence working unless anybody feels like guarding the property all night with a shotgun.

After market harvest, we continued on with the garlic harvest. We've been harvesting rare varieties like Red Russian, Polish Hardneck, Romanian Red, Yugoslavian, and Georgian Fire. All of these names make me wonder if the best garlic breeding happens in Eastern Europe. Apparently the Georgian Fire variety is so spicy that it's hard to eat even one raw clove. However, after it's heated, all of the spiciness cooks away.


The other main excitement of the day was baking Saskatoon berry muffins. A Saskatoon berry is much like a blueberry:



The muffins came out a bit denser and biscuit-like than I would have liked, but they were still tasty:



Today was a lot more garlic harvesting. We all agreed it was best to get the garlic out of the ground as soon as possible because we're expecting rain in the next few days. Hence, I am not going to have time off this weekend. However, Patrick and Colleen are kindly giving Graham and I our days off on Monday and Tuesday. There are rumors of getting to help another farm build a hay bale house on Monday and Tuesday, so the timing is perfect.

Here's one more picture for the road:

Garlic Harvest

It's finally here! The long-awaited garlic harvest has started. There are approximately 12,000 garlic plants on the farm, and they are all getting ready to come out of the ground. We took out about three quarters of a row today, and there are about three rows more to do over the next few days. We've been taking the plants out of the ground a single variety at a time. This is partly for organizational purposes, so we can keep track of which plants are which. But it's also because each variety mature at a slightly different rate. Once the plants have four completely dry leaves on them, they're ready to be pulled. This is done with a pitchfork and a little bit of elbow grease--the soil around the plant is carefully loosened with the pitchfork, which then lets you grab the garlic by the neck and pull. While the occasional bulb was munched on by a vole or came out a bit misshapen, most of them looked great. After collecting a bunch of about a dozen plants, we bundled them with a bit of twine, with enough extra to hang them by. The bunch then got set gently into a wheelbarrow and covered with a bit of cardboard to prevent sun damage to the plants. Here's what the field looked like before harvest:


Once we collected all of one variety, we went over to the barn and started hanging the plants from nails in the ceiling, three plants per nail. After we finished hanging a variety, we labeled what it was and how many plants there were. Here's what they look like hanging up:


As the plants dry in the barn, the skins will harden and the oil in the cloves will become a bit more flavorful. Within three or four weeks, the garlic will taste like what you are familiar with buying at the store or a farmer's market.

After the garlic, I did a little more wheel hoeing and onion weeding. Then it was on to cooking dinner. Patrick and Colleen weren't around, which was too bad because I think this is one of the best meals I've cooked to date. I made a Mediterranean zucchini dip with three zucchinis, two onions, a can of diced tomatoes, a dash of cream, and the juice of half a lemon. I let it cook down until it was nice and hearty. I also made a mint-yogurt-tahini sauce, a roasted garlic dip, grilled vegetables, and some toasted pita bread.

Finally, my last task of the day was to feed the egg-laying birds and collect their eggs:



Let's end with a nice view of the mountains and some purple flowers that I don't know the name of:

Still With the Chicken Coop

Okay, well, we're finally nearing the end of chicken-related work on the farm. Today, I spent a couple more hours with Graham working on cleaning out the coop. We swept the floor again, gave everything another quick rinse and scrub with the push-broom, and sprayed down the whole interior with hydrogen peroxide solution. This was the highlight of my workday because I got to wear a spray pack that was like something out of Ghost Busters. Here's a picture of me sanitizing the wheel barrows:


It's nice having all of this cleaning done, because we're now all ready for the garlic harvest! There's quite a bit of it, and we're going to be spending much of the next few days harvesting it and hanging it in the barn to cure. In fact, if it is necessary, we are going to work Saturday and Sunday to finish the harvest and then take off Monday and Tuesday. This will be the plan if the garlic is ready and if Monday and Tuesday are supposed to be rainy (which the forecast is predicting at the moment).

The rest of my day involved some light weeding, putting up a few more coyote urine posts, and pulling a few more diseased garlic plants. I am getting worried that the urine is not a practical deterrent for deer. First off, they are still losing plants to munching. But beyond that, we now have 12 urine posts around the perimeter of the farm. This is about a full bottle of urine, and most of it seems to evaporate in about a week. A bottle of urine is over 20 dollars! That's a lot of money to spend each week on canine pee. It would be nice if they could get the electric fence around the perimeter of the farm up and running again, but Patrick indicated that it would be a lot of work to fix it up.

Finally, one other thing I did today was squish some Colorado potato beetle larvae (while wearing gloves, thankfully). They're pretty gross, and quite the destructive pest. I didn't take this picture, but I thought I'd show you just so you had a visual:

Alright, everybody. If you buy local, you can "Beet the System":

With a-Hey, Ho, the Wind and the Rain

Alright, it was another cold, rainy day. It's actually felt a bit like English weather--rainy, sunny, warm, and frigid, all in one day. We began our morning by finishing up a few chores that were left from yesterday. I mowed a few pathways, Patrick and Colleen planted a few beds, and Graham thinned/weeded radishes. After that, it was on to cleaning and sanitizing the chicken coop. It is going to be used for hanging and drying garlic, so it needs to be spotless and sterile. That's quite the chore, let me tell you. First, we had to shovel out four to six inches of hay that was covered in chicken feces. This was loaded into the wheel barrow and dumped in the compost pile. Then Graham and I swept the floor as best we could. After that, one of us hosed down the floor and the other person scrubbed with a push-broom. Finally, we had to go back again and spray down the cracks between the floorboards and scrape them out with a backhoe. This took from about 10:30 in the morning until about 5:15 in the evening, with an hour for lunch in there. Here's what it looked like after today's cleaning:


It's still not perfect, but you wouldn't believe how much of an improvement this is. I could have taken a "before" shot, but I don't think anyone would want to look at that anyway. In any case, we still have a little more left to do tomorrow. After it dries out over night, we're going to sweep the floor again. Then we'll do another quick hose-down and scrub with the push broom. Finally, we'll use a 10% hydrogen peroxide solution to sanitize everything. It's a lot of work, but at least we'll have a good storage space for the garlic we'll be harvesting this week.

If you're curious about what everyone looks like, here's me, Graham, Colleen and Patrick (from left to right):



Also, I took some pictures of the hops that Brian and Rebecca are growing on-site. They have over 10 varieties of hops growing, including some crosses they made themselves:



Finally, here's some more of Brian's Celtic artwork. This is the coop for the laying hens (not the one we cleaned out today, this one is still very much in use by chickens):

A Rainy Day on the Farm

Last night as I was getting for bed, I heard the wind start blowing and wailing. It sounded like a storm was ready to blow through, so I checked out the weather. The forecast was for a day of rain and scattered storms.

When I woke up in the morning, the air felt heavy and black clouds looked like they were rolling in from the west. Hence, Graham and I hurried up and harvested some more of the onion seed for Colleen and Patrick. We were afraid if we left it longer, the wind would blow a lot of it away, and then the rain would get it wet. Wet seed is no good, nor is seed that has fallen to the ground. We got the last of it just in time--right as we stepped into the barn with our buckets of seed pods, it started pouring.

As the rain started coming down, I asked Graham what we do when it rains. He gave me a blank stare in response that communicated very clearly with me: "Well, Chris, we work anyway." I knew that was going to be the answer, but I was really hoping he was going to say, "We go back inside and watch cartoons until the rain stops. We wouldn't want you to get wet, Chris."

So we worked out the in the rain. All day long. Besides cleaning out the barn that the chickens were in, the rest of our tasks for the day involved various kinds of weeding. The only kind that's feasible on a very wet day is hand-weeding, though. Hence, we spent the whole day hand-weeding onions. It was a slow weed because the rain didn't penetrate deep enough to help the weeds slip out of the ground. Rather, it just made them slippery, yet no easier to pull out of the ground.



When I came back to the house after working, I discovered that the power was out. I knew it was out earlier, because Graham saw that it was out at lunch. But I was expecting it would be back on by dinner time. No such luck. However, Brian and Rebecca (the brewery owners) invited us over for dinner, so we didn't need to worry about the oven not working or the fridge being non-functional. While everyone usually eats pretty healthy food on the farm, tonight was a bit of an indulgence. They got a turkey fryer, and they used it to fry one of their chickens, some mozzarella sticks, zucchini blossoms, and homemade jalapeno poppers. We ate in the brewpub, and got to sample whichever beers we wanted.



What a great way to spend an evening without electricity! Good company, good food, and good beer. As we sat around talking, suddenly the power kicked back on. The sky also cleared up, and made for a perfect end to the day:

Chicken Slaughter and Farm Tour

Well, it's finally over for those chickens. I know I've been eluding to it all week. The meat birds reached 11 weeks old, so they were already a week overdue for the slaughter. A mobile slaughter team arrived here around 8am this morning and got to work. I offered to help out this morning for a few reasons: I didn't have anything else to do, I want to be helpful, and I'm looking to have new experiences. This certainly was a new experience. First, we had to finish moving the chickens from the coop to the barn so that they were close to the mobile trailer. When it pulled up, it looked just like any other full-size trailer hitched to the end of an over-sized pickup truck. However, this trailer had a rack to hang the chickens up by their feet, an electric stun-knife, a tank to scald the dead chickens in (to make the feathers easy to remove), an agitator that removes the feathers, a cold water bath, and a long counter for butchering, weighing, labeling, and bagging the birds. It took a crew of four people to keep the operation running, and they were very efficient with their work.

After the trailer was set up with electric plug-ins and a water source, it was our job to take chickens from the barn to the back of the trailer. Then an older man with yellow waterproof overalls, rubber gloves, and an electric stun knife would take the bird and hang it upside down by its legs. He'd then touch the bird with the dull end of the electric knife to stun it. After the bird was stunned, then he slit it's throat in two swipes. Apparently, this takes a bit of experience and precision. You want to get the major arteries in the bird's neck so it bleeds out quickly, but you don't want to cut it's head off or slit the esophagus since this can allow for bacterial contamination. The worst part of this process for me was that as I handed him birds, the would flap a little bit, and then they'd flap a lot after they had their throats slit. This was an involuntary response, even though they were already dead. Unfortunately, all of that flapping spattered around the blood dripping from the necks of the birds hanging on the same or nearby hooks. I had chicken blood speckled all over my shirt, hat, and face. Not pleasant. Plus, the rest of the blood dripped onto the trailer and started to turn into a coagulated mess by the end. Rebecca said that I looked queasy after looking down at that. After the birds are slaughtered, they are defeathered and butchered. Defeathering means scalding them in 160 degree water, then agitating them in a machine so that the feathers come out. Then the heads, feet, and organs are removed before they are put into a bag. Connell, Brian and Rebecca's Irish wolfhound, snuck off a few chicken heads throughout the whole process.

While I found the entire experience interesting, I have to say that this has just further affirmed my vegetarianism--I do not feel a need to ever eat meat ever again. Also, I will never ever purchase eggs or meat for guests that is not free range. As I mentioned earlier, the life and death of these birds was nothing but humane. When we carried them to the slaughter trailed, Brian even tried to make sure they faced away from the carnage so they didn't have to look at it. Of course, they wouldn't understand what they saw anyway, but you could tell that everyone really respected these animals. In fact, while I don't mind describing how this all went, I didn't think it was appropriate to take pictures of what happened because I felt like it would be distasteful.

The second half of my day was a bit less gruesome. I got to do a farm tour at another organic farm in the area. This guy was seriously organized. He had a lot of efficiencies built into his techniques, his rows were perfectly straight, and they never let the weeds get ahead of them. It made for a beautiful farm:



After the tour, there was a potluck dinner. I had no clue there was a potluck, or even dinner, afterward, but apparently I was told and just didn't process it. I hate showing up to something like that empty handed, particularly because I love any excuse I can find for cooking. Luckily, someone else I carpooled with didn't have a dish either, so we stopped off and brought a bottle of wine. That worked out just fine:


Then we stopped by an outdoor festival after dinner and listened to some live music.

Haying

On Saturday morning, I got up bright and early to help some of the neighbors with haying. The neighbors, Sylvie and Benoit, moved to BC from France so that they could keep horses, sheep, and do various other kinds of farming. They have some big, beautiful horses on the farm, but their size means they burn through quite a bit of hay:


To keep up with the demand, they harvest hay from their own land. A hay-baling tractor came around on Thursday and made small, rectangular bales. Our job was first to move them into piles of 6 or so, then we drove the truck through and loaded them up. They get piled in pretty high:




After loading the truck, we then drove back to the barn where they will be stored until the winter. This basically meant that we started loading bales onto the floor of the barn, and stacked them in a brick pattern until the field was clear. This was about 10-12 trips with two trucks, and by the end you had to climb up the hay structure we created to continue the pile. I could touch the ceiling of the barn, the hay was stacked so high.



While this was an enjoyable, challenging experience, I have to say I was beat afterwards. We worked from 8 until about 1 or 1:30 in the afternoon. It got pretty hot because you need to work in gloves, long pants, and long sleeves. If you don't take such precautions, the hay scratches you to bits. I actually meant to post about this experience last night, but I was so tired that I fell asleep at around 8:30 and didn't wake up until 6:30 this morning!

After we finished haying and having our turn in the shower, I had a very pleasant surprise in store. Sylvie cooked us lunch, and hosted us for a meal! I didn't take a picture of the house because I thought it might be a bit rude to do so, but they live in a cottage that might as well be in the French countryside. The door handles, light fixtures, floor plan, and the furniture all reminded me of being in France. The back garden was perfectly manicured, vibrantly green with highlights of colorful flowers, and a view of the mountains in the distance. I could see why they were willing to leave the French countryside for British Columbia! The meal was also incredible. I love the leisurely dining style of Southern Europe--there was a selection of cheese, several kinds of couscous/quinoa/pasta salads, freshly sliced avocado, potato and egg salad, three different kinds of olives, and plenty of cold beverages.

Here's the best I could do without treating their house like a tourist destination:


Finally, here's one I took of another farm on the drive home: