The vegan lunch consisted of those stir-fried vegetables that had thankfully been mixed with peanuts, canola oil, and apple cider vinegar, over rice. After serving nearly a hundred activists, glopping the rice into reused, plastic salza containers, I helped myself and took a seat across the table from the fellow kitchen guy and Hoosier, “Duck,” who sported a dark goatee, blonde hair, and looked Scandinavian.
Night reluctantly relinquished its grip in the shade of those majestic redwoods, the sun still obscured by ridges to the east as Base Camp sprung to life. Maggie had hung curtains along the back windows of our station wagon, maybe feeling that nesting instinct since she was expecting. Now she was Jane Doe in the […]
As we hoofed it down the county road, towards the logging gate and the main stage, the marchers sang the chorus and verses of “This Land is Our Land.” Some had strap-on drums to beat. Some carried signs. Tears streamed down our cheeks. The effect overwhelmed both of us, but my pregnant girlfriend more.
Balmy weather has persisted in the Ohio valley throughout the month of January, with heavy rains and temperatures rarely dipping below 40 degrees. Grass is sprouting, to the delight of our chicken flock. Tree branches are budding out at the fingertips. I get daily reports from the Hoosier farmhouse, thanks to Jacque Dawn and Beez […]
High pressure lingers over the Ohio valley, finally, after the most humid summer I can recall. Mildew and insects thrived. The yellow chanterelle mushroom harvest, known mostly to hippies who have experienced the West Coast, continued from late June through August. Mosquitoes nearly the size of toy, remote control helicopters droned in our ears at […]
Hippies in lawn chairs and hammocks strung between shagbark hickory trees lounge around their fire pit after cooking a meal of potatoes, cabbage, eggs, and some chicken breast with a story behind it. It’s Monday and we’re still recovering from this year’s version of HoeFest, though we did manage to load the 30 bales of straw […]
They finally opened the new bridge across the Muskatatuck river about a mile south of the Farmhouse. The first one, with wooden ties and steel arches, was known as Cavenaugh Bridge, the gateway to the legendary Kincaid Holler, land of outlaws. As a good little German Lutheran farmer boy I derived a particular thrill rumbling […]
Winter insisted on one more attack in its annual losing battle with summer otherwise known as spring, holding temperatures below 40 F on Saturday afternoon even though the sun shone so brightly outside that I went temporarily blind when my lifelong friend, Rusty, Jetta, and I stopped into the tavern in the nearby village of […]
Saturday afternoon the blusters of the North plains blasted the Ohio valley relentlessly. Our chickens loitered on the leeward sides of buildings, with sustained gusts maintaining a minimum of 30 MPH for hours, speeding up to 60. The feathered hens drifted like tumbleweeds if they tried to venture from one shelter to another. Days like […]
Spring blossoms all around, circling and curing the brief bout with March Madness we experienced this year in the realm of Hoosier hysteria. On Good Friday, the time according to pagan tradition to plant potatoes, IU got clobbered on the basketball court by North Carolina, a game too late for farmers like me, starting at […]
Spring seems to have successfully encroached upon winter’s territory this time around. Our grass is thriving dark green thanks to all the chicken manure, and I doubt we’ll have to mow much this season thanks to the flock grazing it down. Except for the remaining roosters and the clucking hens doing the egg-laying squawk, the […]