Confessions from a Lavender Farm

one scout, two scouts, three or more...

2009-01-07T21:11:00.000-08:00

As a girl, I was a Brownie, an Indian Princess and a Girl Scout. I learned how to be a good friend, set a table and make a cookbook; but none of these groups taught me how to survive in the wildness or survive a bad trip to the hair salon, for that matter. In retrospect, I probably should have joined the Boy Scouts. I could have gotten a badge in knot tying, something I think of every other time I'm roping down a load of hay in the truck. Or learned how to start a fire with two sticks... I haven't needed this yet, but ya never know.

But, you don't need a club or a badge to become a good boy scout - you just need to stick yourself on a farm for several years to deal with broken machinery, wood plies, critters and mother nature. You'll turn out to be a boy scout by necessity or by accident.

The week before Christmas we started getting snow. I loved it - a hushed blanket of white over the landscape. It snowed and snowed and I began to make the mental list... candles (check), flashlights and batteries (check), water (check). After a few days I filled some buckets with water for the toilet (no power, no well pump, no flushing) and enjoyed being trapped on the hill.

I was just beginning to think we'd weathered the storm with no major problems when the darn power finally went out. I set up the Coleman stove to cook dinner, stoked the fire and cuddled in with the dogs. 24 hours is fine, 48 is manageable, but after days without electricity things start to get un-fun. There hasn't been a shower (save the sponge bath over a pot of hot water); the days are extremely short and the nights drag on (you can only read by candle light for so long); and you find yourself sleeping in long johns, flannel pj's, a fleece and gloves in front of the fire (oh so not-sexy). And the dogs are shivering under blankets.

The boy scout in me called uncle and I decided to head for a cozier farm (which promised a hot bath and a glass of wine). The dogs were ready to go too, so we broke camp and headed down the hill. That was a boy scout four-wheeling adventure in itself, but we arrived to enjoy the creature comforts for a few days until the juice came back at our place on Christmas day.

The farm survived, I took the longest shower ever, began turning the pounds and pounds of tomatoes that had been in the freezer (and then snow bank) into pasta sauce and enjoyed the yummiest spaghetti for Christmas dinner.

It's nice to know you can become a good boy scout at any age ( and that if you need to abandon the wilderness there are friends waiting for you).

If you think about it, every experience is worth having.
- Henry Ford

Ben

2008-12-14T22:42:00.001-08:00

Read the last post and now meet Ben, pre-shave...

Bogart

2008-12-14T22:06:00.000-08:00

Ok, it's finally time I wrote this... Bogart died about 6 weeks ago. He was the perfect boy who lived a great life and had a good death. He never had as much as a hang nail and was only diagnosed with heart disease 2 days before he died. I scaled back our walks, but would have rather had him out in the fresh air than confined to the house. We were out on our morning walk when he and Eloise started chasing something in the woods. He collapsed and died peacefully in my lap shortly after. I miss him terribly, but I'm so thankful he died doing what he loved in our beautiful back yard.

After a search thru Aussie Rescue, Eloise and I brought Ben, an Aussie/Border Collie cross, home on Thanksgiving. He came from a not-so-good situation and has had some adjusting to do. Everything is so new to him... as in being fed regularly, getting to go on walks and living in a house... he's had a lot of learning to do. But he's really smart and sweet and improving by the day. Meal time is now just exciting rather than over-the-moon and his biggest success so far was to go to the groomer on Fri. I thought it would be traumatic as he'd had a poor experience before, but he loved the girls and they got him so clean that he's now naked and I hardly recognize him. Much calmer and happy as opposed to neurotic. However, since he has no fur, he's sporting a sexy black v-neck T-shirt. He doesn't seem to mind and since it isn't dog fashion week at the farm no one else cares either.

More updates as we progress. Wishing you snow flakes on your nose, hot cocoa and cozy toes...

Loggin' Days

2008-10-01T15:28:00.001-07:00

Autumn here is fabulous. Its my favorite time of year and there are days I'm almost giddy. Each morning on our way home from our walk I look out over the valley, with the light softer than it was a few weeks before, and I know I live in the most beautiful spot in the world.

Beyond being a lovely time of year, its also the mad scramble to get as much done outside as possible before the rains fly. My aunt Janet calls it "gathering nuts and berries" - preparing for winter. I have been picking up acorns on my walks (they fill a platter on my dining room table) and picking wild blackberries; but the real nuts and berries are mowing for the last time or two, getting firewood and propane (god that could break the bank this year), cleaning up the gardens, painting the outside of the house and freezing or canning local produce.

Firewood has been my thing lately. The guy who usually delivers for me is out and I'm having a hard time finding anyone with hardwood. My friend Charlie took down several cedar trees at his place, so last week we spent an afternoon cutting and splitting. It was my kind of afternoon - playing with chainsaws and the hydraulic splitter. I like getting in touch with my inner lumberjack every once in a while. Charlie was impressed with my chainsaw abilities and I was impressed with the splitter, which I have added to my list of favorite power equipment. Tomorrow we'll cut up the oak that fell last winter.

As much as I enjoy playing logger, these two excursions wont net me all the wood I need for winter. So I've been in touch with a guy who I think can deliver two more cords this weekend. He doesn't seem extremely dependable, but its not like I need him to show up for a date, just one delivery. Ok one delivery date - lets hope he can make it.

On a food storage note, I decided to oven dry some tomatoes to toss with pasta and put on pizza this winter. It seemed like a great idea. I quartered 10 pounds of Roma's, drizzled them with olive oil and a sprinkle of salt. I set them on a rack and put them in the oven on low and waited. And waited. 15 hours later I was left with one measly jar of dried tomatoes packed in olive oil. Can you believe it - ten pounds of tomatoes is reduced to one (really cute) 8 oz jar, not to mention the many hours of drying. I'm glad I did it once to get it out of my system, but the conclusion... one colossal waist of energy!

"Why not" is a slogan for an interesting life. - Mason Cooley

One Goat, Two Goats, Three or More

2008-08-10T20:55:00.000-07:00

So... I suck at keeping this blog up to date. Lavender harvest came in with a swoosh - great crop and the barn is full. Keeping up with weeds, mowing and events has made the past two months fly by.

But things are getting back to a normal whirl and this weekend brought a new resident. In between a wedding and the farmers market, Tilly (named after my great grandmother, Matilda) moved into the pasture with the rest of the herd. Don't ask, don't say it... yep, this brings the count up to seven, which (I should keep reminding myself) is enough.

She's a cashmere mix (a bit fancy for the farm), all black with white markings on her hind legs. Living here is her first real experience with goats as she's only had a cow companion since the early age of 2 months. So she's trying to get her goat legs and find a friend among the crew.

I think she and Lucy may be pals, but we'll have to wait and see what shakes out. In the mean time, Blanche is making sure Tilly doesn't feel welcome at meal time. I'll give it a few days before I worry... I think Tilly is feisty enough to butt her way in when she's ready.

In the mean time, I'm plotting what projects will get started (or finished) before the rains arrive. Stay tuned...

January or June?

2008-06-11T13:39:00.000-07:00

Yes, even though we're well into June, it feels like the middle of January here... rain, cold and more of the same. Seems Mother Nature isn't quite ready to open the sky and let the sun shine in.

So naturally we're a bit behind the curve. The lavender looks like it'll be a fabulous crop, but about 3 weeks behind schedule. It wont hurt anything for it to be late, but if you're planning to visit the farm to see a field of purple I would suggest the first 2 weeks in July. The website has been updated with hours and events, so check it out and come visit. The first Sunset event will be June 28th and should be a great night - bluegrass, wine, food, etc. See events page for details.

Even though the weather's still a bit cool, everything is beautiful out here in the country and we look forward to sharing the farm with you...

Sinful Spring Soup

2008-04-06T18:01:00.001-07:00

Ok don't give me shit. I'm horrible about keeping up with the blog, but there's really no need to post about procrastinating taxes, muddling through office work and trying to keep the house clean (mud season, two dogs and me). The dead of winter doesn't leave a lot to write about. But the seasons are trying to change (we haven't quite made it yet) and I'm feeling a bit chipper.

This weekend the rains blew in with a flurry and it would have felt like winter again, but the tulips and daffodils are showing their shining faces and the produce department at my local grocer is displaying spring fare. Unfortunately asparagus and artichokes aren't in season here yet.

Eating local is a breeze at the peak of summer harvest and I can get myself through most of winter on produce I've frozen (tomatoes, berries, corn, etc) and those that keep well (onions and various squash), but I made the last of my tomatoes into sauce a few weeks ago and the last winter squash finally rotted. I was in serious need of a change in diet, so I caved when I saw the thin spears of California asparagus in the store. A little chat with produce manager, John, and I came up with this delicious soup - sinful, as it didn't come from a local farm, but hearty enough for a meal and brimming with sweet spring flavor:

Sinful Spring Soup
1 large baking potato
1 pound thin asparagus
2 large leeks, white and light green parts sliced thin
2 cloves garlic, minced
tarragon
vegetable broth
half and half
olive oil and/or butter
salt, pepper and ground nutmeg to season

Bake the potato and set aside to cool slightly. Toss the asparagus spears with olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast on a baking sheet at 450 degrees for about 10 minutes, turning every so often, until they begin to brown, but are still bright green. Meanwhile, saute leeks and garlic in olive oil or butter. Add a Tbsp of tarragon and 1 cups broth. Simmer on low.

Chop the cooked asparagus, reserving heads, and place in blender. Scoop cooked potato and add to blender with 1 cup broth and 1/4 cup half and half. Puree. Add to soup pan with reserved asparagus heads. Add more broth or half and half to desired constancy and season with salt, pepper and a bit of nutmeg. Enjoy!

If you're lucky enough to have asparagus in season now, eat all you can, any way you can. If you're like me, make this soup once to get a spring veggie fix and wait for the real deal from your local farm stand or market.

Minnie Pearl is Kicking My Ass

2008-01-10T15:21:00.000-08:00

My old farm truck, Minnie Pearl, seems to bring out my blondness (and frustrates the hell out of me). I needed to get a load of hay last week, but couldn't get the engine to turn over. It was bitter cold so I figured that was the problem and I'd try again in a few days. The second try, still nothing.

For some reason, I concluded the spark plugs needed to be changed (sounded like a good idea). But I've never changed a spark plug, so I got out my handy manual, read a bit and looked that the diagram. I found the distributor cap (which was pictured in the manual), good, but there were no spark plugs inside. Huh. It took me a few minutes to realize, the plugs were at the other end of the wire (geez). After a consult at the auto parts store I was armed with spark plugs and the ratchet to remove them.

I should mention, the truck is so high I need a ladder to get under the hood. I'm on the ladder and then I'm crawling around over the engine, trying to reach the plugs, which are not conveniently located by any means (in fact there hard as hell to get to). I managed to get five of the eight changed, before my body was bruised and battered from leaning against hard metal and twisting in every direction possible trying to reach the freakin' plugs. I couldn't take it any more, I wanted to cry. I didn't... I went inside for the evening, scrubbed my greasy finger nails and had a glass of wine.

I go thru this about every six months, the truck breaks and I think I can fix it. Maybe I can't or shouldn't, maybe I should call a mechanic. But I'm too stubborn, I like to do things for myself. I want to know how to fix my truck and I haven't given up hope (yet) that this time I will.

In the mean time, I schlepped a half a ton of hay, in three loads, in the back of my pathfinder. I think its time to vacuum.

No, you never get any fun out of things you haven't done.
- Oscar Wilde

Goats and Fuzzy Slippers

2007-12-31T19:36:00.000-08:00

When it comes to love, I'm a bit cynical and jaded (my past experiences have left me wondering if its worth the effort). And when it comes to romance, I'm clueless. I don't do lingerie; I do fuzzy slippers and flannel... life on a farm doesn't require much lacy stuff, but a good pair of slippers (the kind you can go out to the wood pile in) and flannel PJ's come in handy on cold winter nights. My idea of a romantic date is a hike in the woods or running fence. And my idea of sexy is a strong guy in Carhardt's. I know what you're thinking... I'm hopeless, I should be happy having two dogs to cuddle with cuz it ain't gonna get any better than that. You're probably right.

So when a guy friend came to visit recently, I was lectured by girl friends on the importance of hotty wear, sexy shoes, etc. Shit, I was doomed. A guy pal stressed the importance of clean breath and a sense of humor (OK Bart, this I have down). Really, I don't have it in me to be anything but myself, take it or leave it.

The weekend was lovely... dinner out, long hikes, cooking together, etc. But my goats were in desperate need of a little maintenance (hoof trimming and shots) and its nice to have an extra body to help. Its not a horrible chore, but it isn't pretty either. The goats behaved themselves for the most part, but as I was sitting in the mud giving Blanche her pedicure she tried to deposit a few turds on my head. Men, when the woman you're considering dating is sitting in the mud with goat shit in her hair its your chance to run, no questions asked. The guy didn't run, he may even come back.

Open your mind, open your heart, open your arms, take it all in.

- Kobi Yamada

This Ain't Kansas, Baby

2007-11-13T20:36:00.000-08:00

Winter brings rain and wind storms to our part of the valley, and we expect it. However, I usually pay attention to the news and weather to know when we might be slammed. My dad, who's my handiest and most cost effective (free) farm labor, has been here the past week and we'd been busy getting the last of the fall clean up done, not paying attention to the news.

So, yesterday I awoke at 4 am to 40 mph winds. I thought of the goats, who would be hunkered down in their shed, and of what might be blowing around outside; but there's not much you can do at the wee hours so I cuddled back in to sleep. At dawn we still had power (yippee), but no water (the power to the barn and well pump was out). I took the dogs out for a blustery run and to check on damage... lots of tree limbs down (expected), a huge oak fallen on one of the pasture fences (a good excuse to play with the chainsaw) and some damage to the roof of the cold shed (also expected and repairable). Luckily I had my handy farm labor (aka, dad) available and the clean-up was complete by days end. Thanks dad!

This morning we picked up the last of the branches on the drive and spotted an odd sight at the edge of the woods - a huge (15 ft in diameter) root ball on its side... a 100 ft fir had been uprooted and crashed into some oaks. It was amazing to see a tree with a 2-3 ft trunk flipped on its side and to realize the root ball was only about a ft deep... how did it stay standing for so many years? And, how will I get it cleaned up... a bit more than my chainsaw and I can manage.

Round Two, Clothing Optional

2007-10-22T18:56:00.000-07:00

Some days are just a bit more interesting than others and last Monday qualified. The day started with a walk at sunrise with the dogs and ended with a buck naked man swimming in my pond. My friend Shawn is a fabulous craftsman... he built my barn for the previous owners and has helped me with various projects including the pergola across the front of the house (we designed it as we built it from 2 fir trees he milled with a chainsaw in my woods) and a 20 foot outdoor dining table. He's a jack-of-all-trades (and the most eccentric person I know) - someone I call when I have a project I can't figure out on my own. This particular project was the damn pond pump/fountain (see 'Still Blonde'). I had written it off until next May, but Shawn had some time to look at it.

We retrieved the boat from the barn (I had just put it in storage the day before), rowed out to the darn thing, disconnected it from the anchors (used the same detergent bottles to keep the anchor ropes in place), and towed it in. Our best efforts to heave it onto the dock were thwarted by the bottom heavy weight, so we pulled it to the bank. Turns out the fountain weighs about 300 lbs and no way to get it out but to wade into the chilly water. I had my Muck boots which work just fine, but Shawn didn't have the proper footwear and didn't want to get his pant legs wet as he'd arrived on his motorcycle. He announced he would undress to pull the freakin' fountain from the pond... I decided it was best to retrieve a towel from the house while he meddled with the monstrosity. He got it onto shore enough to determine I needed a new motor, and while in the process dressed and undressed at least 4 times (and took a lap around the pond in between). This is my life? A man stripping naked in the November chill to check out the mechanics of a fountain? Had it been anyone else it would have been creepy, but it was Shawn and his straight forward, get it done way. Of course he made reference to getting naked together, but I've learned to be straight forward with Shawn too... not gonna happen.

In the end, and much to Shawn's dismay, we rowed the fountain back out into the pond so I wouldn't have to look at Tide bottles floating on the anchor ropes all winter - we'll get back to it when the weather warms.

Fernando

2007-09-27T12:44:00.001-07:00

After the last post, I thought I should add something light-hearted. I have a new hot-tubing buddy named Fernando. Ah, not what you think... he's a little tree frog who's taken up residence under the hot tub cover. I first discovered him a few weeks ago and had fun watching him skittle along the edge. Although I was a bit worried - he's a reddish color instead of bright green (from the heat of the tub).

Last week I startled him. He dove into the water and was swimming around, as I screamed, "get out, get out, you're gonna die" (because of course, frogs understand English and would respond to such cries), before scooping him to safety. Now before I relax in the hot tub, I have to search for him and place him well away from the edge so we don't have a repeat performance. I have a feeling he's found his spot for the winter... as long as he keeps out of the water, he's welcome to stay.

Kwanzaa

2007-09-27T12:29:00.000-07:00

Last week was a difficult and sad one for me. Kwanzaa, one of the goats, had been sick for a few weeks. I was nursing him back to health with extra food and electrolytes. He seemed to be improving and I thought we'd be out of the woods in another couple of weeks. But in the middle of the week he took a turn for the worse. Knowing there was nothing left to do, I called the vet to put him down. Sadly, between the call and when the vet arrived, Kwanzaa went down. I spent his last few hours with him on the floor of the goat shed stroking his neck and talking him through it. For me this is the hard part of country life and having animals, but it is part of life. His sweet demeanour will be missed and I'm grateful for the pleasure he brought me.

Oh Yeah, Still Blonde

2007-09-12T19:55:00.000-07:00

When you buy a house in town, it takes 6 months to a year and you know how everything works... furnace, hot water heater, sprinkler system, etc. I've lived here six years now and still don't know how some things work - they work, that's all ya need to know.

Well, I'm getting a frustrating lesson in how the pond aerator/fountain works this week. The pond's about a half acre around and15 ft deep in the middle with a fountain on a timer that keeps the water clean. I know where the timer is and how to set it, but nothing beyond that. It stopped working this week, so now I get to fix it. I fished out the owners manual and read that I should be doing routine maintenance every two years... really, it's anchored to the bottom somehow and weighs at least 150 lbs.

I'm thinking this will all require a bit of diving and swimming with the trout and bull frogs - mostly I'm worried how scummy it will be under that fountain. Yuck! I row out in my little boat to see what I can see from the surface, which is nothing. So, I go back to the manual and try to get into the right frame of mind to swim around in the murky depths. The diagram shows two anchors holding the fountain in place and I think I can reach them from the boat. Of course once you remove the chains holding the fountain to the anchor they'll sink, so I bring along two empty laundry detergent bottles (this is where recycling really pays off). I disconnect the fountain from the anchors and tie the ropes to the Tide bottles (a nice red-neck look on the pond), tie the fountain to the boat and begin to row ashore. Except I'm not going ashore, just in circles. For god sakes, why? Well shit, it has to be attached to electricity somewhere and that would be under water and require the diving I was trying to avoid.

So I remove the red-neck float devices, re-anchor the fountain and go back to the manual for help. Three days and several calls to the manufacture later, all I've learned is there should be a filter box on shore that needs cleaning. I've found two electric boxes and a few routers for the irrigation (that I didn't know existed), but no filters.

Another look at the manual and I think I really will be diving the chilly waters with the fish. I love living in the country because it forces you to figure out things you normally wouldn't think about, but some days it's freakin' brain damage!

Goats in the Living Room

2007-08-10T11:03:00.000-07:00

It was a white trash, farm chick day all around. I was getting a couple new goats which is always exciting, but I didn't have a proper way to transport them. Tying them up in the back of Minnie Pearl, my old farm truck, didn't seem like the best idea, so I decided to use an old '77 Suburban that's been sitting around here for the past two years (don't ask why - don't most farms have some old vehicle hanging about?).

Of course the battery was completely dead, so I monkeyed around changing it out for Minnie Pearl's and it started right up. I had never actually driven the Suburban and it felt like I was sitting on a sofa, driving a living room down the road - kind of floating along, as I watched the gas gauge move quickly toward empty.

When I got to Tiffany's, it turned out she had not two, but three goats for me - Boots, the third, was a 6 month old and she didn't want to separate her from mama. So, we loaded up the girls and off I went - me and three goats floating in a living room down the road and thru town. It turns out goats travel rather well in a Suburban and we made it back to the farm just fine. Of course once we got to the pasture no one wanted to disembark from the vehicle. I lifted Boots out and she climbed back in (there's really no telling a goat what to do). We played that game for a while until the girls decided the pasture did have more to offer than the Suburban as far as snacking and leg room go.

It'll take a few days for everyone to get friendly and establish the pecking order, but I think Emma, Boots and Lucy will fit right in. They are darling and sweet Nubian/Bore crosses and having baby Boots is a fun little bonus. Now, what to do with that darn Suburban?

Getting there isn't half the fun, it's all the fun. - Robert Townsend

Lavender Season

2007-07-10T15:33:00.000-07:00

Lavender season is in full swing at Havenhill. We had some unseasonably cool weather in June that slowed things down a bit, but as always temps heated up and pushed the lavender along.

Harvest started Saturday morning and went until early afternoon when we closed for a wedding. Back at it all day Sunday and it went well - we cleared more from the field in one day than ever before. The hay loft is full - a good thing as the weather's quite hot and we don't have much more time. We'll reach the 100's today, but the guys are willing to cut this evening so with any luck we'll finish the field tonight or tomorrow.

We cut the lavender by hand with a big curved blade called a bull hook (Italian machete). it's laid back across the plant to begin drying and then bundled with rubber bands. The hay loft is fitted with slats of wood with screw hooks where the lavender is hung, 2 bundles per hook, to dry for 10-14 days. Then its removed and carefully boxed with tissue between layers and stored in the dark until its ready to become product.

The lavender we pull from the field in the next few days will dry on flat mesh racks and is then sent to a local seed cleaner where it's stripped from the stems and cleaned for our culinary and loose lavender products. It's an expensive process, but our lavender is the cleanest I've ever seen and we're proud to be able to offer such high quality to our customers.

Summer is also berry season in the Pacific NW, so we gorge ourselves silly... raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, etc. There does come a point when you don't think you can eat another berry and then we freeze for the winter, but we're no where near that point yet. Eat on.

Hope you're enjoying the bounty of harvest in your area. If you don't check out your farmers market on a regular basis, I highly recommend it. Great, fresh-from-the -field produce and you're helping support agriculture in your area. Can't go wrong anyway you slice it.

Unexplainable Mishap

2007-07-02T10:35:00.000-07:00

For once, I'm not responsible for a mishap around the farm. It was one of those things that's almost unexplainable. A client was moving her car in the parking lot when he foot slipped and hit the gas. The car went over a concrete parking block and somehow up over a retaining wall of railroad ties before it high centered on the wall and a few shrubs.

Thankfully no one was hurt. The women were rattled, but they handled it well. A couple of guys who were here helping me weed and a gentleman who was here with his wife spent a few hours jacking the car in three places and disassembling the retaining wall so that we could dislodge the car. And the women were on their way again. I'm sure they were exhausted by the event, but hopefully have recovered their sense of humor.

On a lavender note. The field is in full bloom. We were behind in weeding, but got it finished this weekend... while the yellow dandelions contrast the lavender nicely, it makes me cringe to see their yellow heads poking through. We'll start harvest next weekend and with any luck will have the hayloft full within a few days.

Go Girl

2007-06-25T11:25:00.000-07:00

I got a call from friend and photographer, Gretchen Mashkuri, on Saturday afternoon. She was returning from FL after doing an exclusive photo shoot for Tiger Woods and his family - the first photos to be publicly release of Tiger, Elin and their new babe Sam Alexis!

Gretchen is one of the kindest and most unassuming people I know. She's happiest mucking around her farm in her Carhardt's and rubber boots - feeding goats, llamas and cows; driving the tractor or wielding a chainsaw. She's salt of the earth and and the easiest of friends.

We know Gretchen's a fabulous photographer, she's responsible for all the lovely images you see on Havehill's website, and now the rest of the world does too. You go girl!

Plan B

2007-06-14T11:35:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was our first Saturday Night Sunset - wine, food, music and lovely views. I spent Friday mowing, setting tents and looking forward to sharing the farm.

Saturday morning was cloudy and cold. It'll burn off, I told myself as I headed into town. My Saturday morning ritual includes hauling in the recycling and a stop at Rolling Hills for a latte and my favorite bagel concoction - one of Molly's sorta bagels (no holes and no boiling, but yummy), toasted and smothered in After Burn cream cheese spread (hot and spicy perfection). Molly and Jessica were doing the catering for the Sunset event and wanted to know if I had a plan B if it rained. Ah no, I just wanted my breakfast and I'd think of something.

I headed for the farmers market and my little piece of concrete at the back of Kate's booth. It's where I perch, on the edge of the sidewalk, to savor my breakfast while we try to catch up in between customers. There another friend wanted to know if I had a plan B - no, I'm not sure I ever have a plan B (or consciously think of it that way). The barn was a possibility, but it was piled high with boxes and antiques Jacquie would be staging next week. It was starting to rain hard... OK, how about the house. It would be cozy, warm and dry.

I raced home to open the gift shop and madly clean (house keeping's not my strong suite). The rain continued and when the evening got under way, I had a jazz quartet in the living room and 12 guests I'd never met lounging in front of the fire. Molly and Jessica did a beautiful job with the food and Suzi from Christopher Bridge Vineyard was a delight.

There was no sunset, just dark skies, but everyone enjoyed themselves and made new friends. I went to bed exhausted but happy, knowing we'd done what we could and made our guests feel welcome.

One Fish Two Fish

2007-05-25T21:58:00.000-07:00

During the summer, my friends with children think of the farm as their personal playground. Bart and Heather will show up unannounced on a Sunday morning, kids in tow as if I've been sitting around waiting to entertain them. I find this annoying, Heather thinks it's amusing - hey guys, I do have phone service up here on the hill.

Well, the boys know how to use the phone and arranged to bring Henry & Elliot up to fish in the pond. I wondered how much fishing two 3 year-olds could do, but no matter the dad's were gonna teach the boys to fish. Have ya ever seen two grown men casting Spiderman fishing poles with fish flavored marshmallows as bait and a plastic shopping bag for a tackle box? Anything you can imagine, the real deal is funnier. Not only two guys with cartoon poles (one came with a fake gold fish attached), but the seriousness in which they instructed the kids on the finer points of fishing - this is real man stuff, now pay attention. The boys were afraid of the fish when they came flopping out of the water and just wanted them to go back into the pond where they belonged. It hardly mattered, Bart and Jason kept casting until the many marshmallows were gone. I'm pretty sure this little adventure was more for the dads than the boys. In their defense, Jason is an expert fly fisherman and wouldn't be caught dead with a shopping bag tackle box on the river, and although I didn't know Bart fished he's got a swift cast with the Spidey pole.

Note to any anglers or would be anglers - we can't allow public fishing on the pond (friends & family only). Sorry for the tease.

Between the wish and the fish, life lies waiting.

Blonde Moment

2007-05-14T14:16:00.000-07:00

Now I'm getting phone calls from friends, concerned I may harm myself working on the truck. Pleeease don't worry... Kristine, there's no chance of cutting a gas line while changing an ignition switch (or if there is, I didn't do it). The biggest chance of injury would be bumping my head on the steering column, which I also managed to avoid. And to alleviate any further concerns... I wear steel toed boots and face protection when I run a chainsaw, same boots for splitting wood and I know how to grab a goat by the horns. I'm not careless, just stubborn.

And blonde... the tow guy was just here, I finally caved and decided to send it to Matthew. As I was taking it out of 4-wheel drive and getting ready to put it in neutral for him, I realized it was in gear, not park. Oh, the blonde moment! Guess what... she fired right up! So, now I know how to change out a solenoid and an ignition switch, neither of which I needed to do. Lets just say I'll be laughing at myself all week.

Enjoy the days, they only come once.

Bull Headed Blonde

2007-05-11T10:08:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week I mentioned to a friend that I was kind of bull headed, as if it was something he might not know. Nick probably fell off his chair laughing - who would have guessed!

And as if I need to prove this, I'm giving myself brain damage trying to fix my farm truck. Minnie Pearl is a '72 Jeep J-10 and she has a few issues. This week, namely that she wont start. I think its the ignition switch so off I go to the auto parts store. The guy there tells me it could be the solenoid and I should check that first. Who knows what a solenoid is... he tells me where to find it, how to check it and sells me some light rod tester. No problem. But the picture in the manual looks differnt than what's in my truck - I test what I think is the solenoid, which upon further discussion with the auto parts guy turns out to be the coil and I'm testing it backward. He's getting a good laugh and suggests I may need some help. Really, I don't think so. I finally test the right part and it doesn't seem to be working, so I replace it.

The darn truck still doesn't start. So I call my uncle in CO for some advice. Yes, it definitely could be the ignition switch and he tells me how to check it. I have no idea if I'm checking it correctly - by the time I'm under the dash, I've muddled his instructions in my head. And, there are a heck of a lot of wires running into that switch. We'll give it another go this afternoon... now it seems to be a personal challenge to figure it out. Or, I'll get it towed to Matthew who could fix it in an hour. But why do that when I should be able to do it myself.

I have a feeling the Chilton's manual is about to become bedtime reading and that I'll be signing up for auto shop at the high school (do ya think they'll let me?).

Goat Kids

2007-05-03T16:55:00.000-07:00

I am a total animal geek... the kind of gal who could wind up with a dozen dogs if she wasn't careful. Tom used to keep me in check by setting the limit at 2 dogs and and a couple barn yard critters, but last night I realize ooh la la there are no limits anymore.

Friend Deena is dog sitting/farm sitting friend Gretchen's place this week. I stopped by last night for a glass of wine and when I arrived, Mary & David where there and they announce we had some farm work to do first. Well lets go, what is it... bottle feeding some brand new baby goats whose mama's having a hard time nursing. Stick me in a goat shed with a pile of kid goats any time! There were five - three had been born a few days earlier and two that morning. Sweetest little things with their spots and speckles and their wobbly legs... like a pile of puppies.

The down side was, I wanted to take them home. Why not... I could keep them in the bath tub (which could make showering a bit difficult) and bottle feed them 'til they were old enough to live with Blanche and the crew. Yes, on the way home I actually considered this... as well as thinking about getting Blanche and Lula Belle knocked up and having my own pile of goat babes. Fortunately reality set in... I do need that bath tub to bath in, and as much as I'd like to play with goats all day I don't have the time. Besides if they grew up in the bath tub, who knows, maybe I'd let them on the couch one day and it'd be all down hill from there... lavender lady turns crazy goat lady (not the kind of headlines we're looking for).

Blooms and Blades of Grass

2007-04-30T11:47:00.000-07:00

So, the response from Sunset has been interesting. Emails from all over... other Coloradoans who have relocated to Oregon, folks wanting to visit or grow lavender (from Texas & South Dakota to Puerto Rico), all kinds of things. Thanks for the notes - your enthusiasm is wonderful and appreciated.

The farm is perking up... peaches have bloomed and the cherries too. Right now the apples and pears are in blossom and the weeping cherries along the drive are still flowering. Of course the weeds have started and the grass is growing faster than I can mow. When I'm outside working I get carried away with all kinds of thoughts on projects I want to start (or finish)... finish the front patio once and for all, kill off the grass on a steep slope in the back yard and put in some natural landscaping with a path leading to the pond, raised flower beds in another garden, the list goes on. But right now I need to mow, mow, mow prune and get the weeds under control. The other projects will fit in somehow and there will always be ones that will carry over to next year (like the front patio has for the past two years). This is the time of year when all things are possible and it's exciting to dream about what will take shape this season.

Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers 'Grow,grow'
- The Talmud

I just wish those angels weren't whispering quite so much right now.

Sunset

2007-04-20T11:17:00.000-07:00

OK, run out and pick up the May issue of Sunset... Havenhill is featured in a six page photo spread! We'll have it posted on the website in a few day. The best part... Bogart made two shots. He was so proud of himself when the photographer was shooting his mug last summer (good boy).

And, looks like the goats will be pushed into more service this summer. I'm working with Marion County Soil & Water to get a grant to clear the brambles in a five acre oak stand, and they've determined the goats will do the best job. We'll know by July if I get the grant to pay for the fencing... start munching.

"Hope" is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all. - Emily Dickinson

Balance

2007-04-11T16:24:00.000-07:00

Finding balance in my life is always a challenge. Living here provides it in so many ways - being in tune with Mother Nature, eating with the seasons, the tight knit community of a small town - but there are always so many things that need attention. Sometimes it's difficult to put everything in perspective or feel like I'm in control. My friend Nancy says its an on going process... we keep getting better at, but we have to keep reminding ourselves to see the simple beauty in our days and give up trying to control what is not ours to control.

Kate and I were talking the other day about the ongoing list of what needs to be done this time of year - weeds we need to get under control, mowing, planting, projects that need to be started and finished, more planting and we still need to run our businesses and our lives. I wondered if we'd always be like this. She said yes, and we better get used to it. And she's right. Farming runs at an incredible pace for many months in a row. It's not going to slow down and there's no use thinking it will or that you'll somehow magically have it under control.

On the good days I work thru the list, find time to enjoy a walk with the dogs, watch a beautiful sunset or admire the color of the tulips, do something for myself and leave what's undone for the next day. On the not-so-good days, my brain spins with what needs to be done and I feel as though it never will be. Thankfully, there are more of the good days and I feel lucky to have the opportunity to live this life. I'm not sure I'll ever achieve the perfect balance, but I'll always be able to find a simple joy in every day and I'm determined to make the most of the life I'm living here.

We are not sent into this world to do anything into which we cannot put our hearts. - John Ruskin

Spring has Sprung

2007-04-04T15:36:00.000-07:00

I love these days when everything's opening up outside. The daffodils have been blooming for a week and now the tulips are starting.

This morning I brought an arm load of cherry branches into the house and put them in a tall vase on the kitchen table. They buds will be blooming in a few days. And I can see the lilacs out my office window will be starting soon...

Shall I sing of happy hours numbered by the opening and closing of flowers? - Hartley Coleridge

Gored by a Goat

2007-04-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

... well not really, just an angry goat letting me know how he felt. The goats get hay and grain every other day and are supposed to be eating brambles and grass the rest of the time. Apparently they're getting a bit spoiled, as I missed one day of feeding and Sally tried to pin me to the wall of the goat shed with his horns. Yes, Sally's a male - he came with the name and I couldn't change it, so I think of him as Sal, the mob boss which he is (and very bossy at that).

When I went into the pasture this evening, he came barreling down - goats can really get some speed up. Seeing Blanche run is the most amusing... she's my full figured gal and doesn't look like she'd be very fast, but she can really move with the right motivation.

As I started to open the door to the feed room, Sally tried to head butt me into the wall. Having a 180 pound goat try to nail you with his horns will get your attention! This isn't the first time he's been angry and tried to ram me, and had he wanted to he would have... just his way of reminding me there's a regular feed schedule and I should stick to it. Sorry Sal, I'll try to remember if you'll remember your job is to eat those brambles!

On a kitchen note - counters are in, ceiling ripped apart and tons of dry wall work ahead.

Between the wish and the thing life is waiting. - unknown. Enjoy the ride.

Kitchen Crumble

2007-03-27T16:15:00.000-07:00

The kitchen remodel is underway again. Last week I spent every evening (and most of the weekend) ripping out cabinets... hard work, but so satisfying. There were way too many upper cabinets and one that hung down over a bar area for everyone to hit their head on (very nice). And, I wanted to remove a wall between the kitchen and living room to open things up. It opened things up and opened another can of worms... needed to install a new header and move some electrical.

Bill, my oh so wonderful neighbor responsible for the granite counter tops, got way more than he bargained for. He showed up as the last of the wall was coming down... this stuff had to be fixed before he could finish the counters (ugh!). He's now spent two and a half days fixing stuff... I feel horrible that his time has to be taken up doing this and so grateful at the same time. Thanks Bill - you're the best!

Still a ways to go, but we'll be cookin' in no time!

Sunday Supper

2007-03-13T18:06:00.000-07:00

I rarely totally relax on the weekend - there's always some project waiting for me. But this past weekend I decided to have a proper Sunday afternoon, complete with friends and delicious meal. The day was unseasonably balmy, perfect for being outside. We built a fire in the fire pit and hung out chatting and sipping wine while the sun set. The pups got plenty of attention and settled in (well, Eloise settled into digging for mice and Bogart hung out with us). Deena brought a killer salmon spread she made with salmon she'd caught and canned with some old fisherman buddy - now there's a gal I love! I thought she'd smoked the salmon, and when I learned she canned it I was a bit queasy for a minute (sorry Deena, canned salmon doesn't sound that great), but when I tasted it, well that was a different story - fab! Kim and Donna made a platter of hercot verts (someone check my spelling) and asparagus with a garlicky dip. Another perfect starter.

When the temps cooled we went inside. Zach made another fire and we cooked dinner... a white bean salad with pan seared shrimp, spinach lasagna with my favorite tomato sauce and a blue berry crisp of sorts (made from berries picked at the vineyard next door and frozen). Here's the lasagna and sauce recipes:

Spinach Lasagna adapted from Cooks Illustrated

Bechamel Sauce
5 Tbsp butter
5 large shallots, minced
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 cup flour
3 1/2 cups milk
2 bay leaves
3/4 tsp grated nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp ground black pepper
1 oz grated Parmesan cheese

Spinach
2 (10 oz) boxes frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed dry (really, squeeze out as much liquid as possible)

Cheese & Pasta
10 oz ricotta cheese
1 egg
1/4 tsp salt
fresh or no-boil lasagna noodles
2 oz grated Parmesan cheese
8 oz fontina cheese, shredded

For the Bechamel: Melt the butter in a medium sauce pan over medium heat; add the shallots and garlic and cook, stirring frequently, until translucent, about 7 minutes. Add flour and cook, stirring constantly about 1 1/2 minutes; do not brown. Gradually whisk in the milk. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat, whisk in the bay leaves, nutmeg, salt and pepper. Reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until it thickens, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat, discard bay leaves and whisk in Parmesan.

For the Cheese, Pasta and Assembly: Blend the ricotta, egg and salt until smooth. Preheat the over to 425 degrees. If you're using fresh noodles, proceed to assembly. If you're using no-boil, soak them in hot tap water in a 9x13 baking dish for 5 minutes. Remove from water and wipe the baking dish dry.

Butter a 9x13 baking dish. Spread 1/2 cup Bechamel sauce in the bottom. Mix the spinach into the remaining Bechamel sauce. Layer 3 noodles in the bottom of the baking dish. Spread 1 cup spinach mixture over the top, sprinkle with Parmesan and top with 3 more noodles. Spread one cup spinach mixture, topped by half the ricotta mixture and half the fontina cheese. Layer 3 more noodles and repeat. Spray a sheet of aluminum foil with cooking spray to prevent the cheese from sticking and cover the dish. Bake until it begins to bubble, about 20 minutes. Remove the foil and bake another 10 minutes until it begins to brown.

Spicy Tomato Sauce with Rosemary, Olives and Capers adapted from Patricia Wells The Provence Cookbook

I love this pasta sauce - the orange zest and rosemary give it a fresh kick and the olives and capers add depth.

2 tsp olive oil
1 small onion, peeled and diced
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 28-oz can chopped tomatoes, pureed in a blender
1tsp dried basil
hot red pepper flakes to taste
1/2 tsp fennel seeds
grated zest of 1 orange, blanched & refreshed
2 Tbsp capers, rinsed & drained
1 Tbsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped
1/2 cup olives of choice, chopped
salt to taste

Heat the olive oil in a medium sauce pan over medium heat. Saute the onions and garlic until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the basil, red pepper flakes and fennel seeds - stir and cook 1 minute. Add the tomatoes, orange zest, capers, rosemary and olives. Bring to a simmer and cook over low heat until thickens, about 20 minutes.

Serve over pasta or spinach lasagna.

Rodent Revenge

2007-03-05T17:19:00.000-08:00

Life in the country isn't glamorous... it's very satisfying and rewarding and on occasion a little gross. I pulled some laundry out of the washer yesterday and discovered a dead mouse in the bottom of the tub - yuck! He was flat and pretty stiff - was that from going thru the spin cycle or had he been in there a while? Maybe this was revenge for his pal being burned up on my catalytic converter? Life in the country, rodents are not optional... time to set some traps.

Neighbors

2007-02-26T16:08:00.000-08:00

Neighbors - in the country you hope for good ones as you're bound to depend on them at some point for something. When things are sailing along, you might share a beer or a glass of wine on the spur of the moment. Other times, someone may just pop by to say hi. But when you're in a pinch, a good neighbor is worth his weight in gold.

Over the years my neighbors have taught me what kind of fuel to use on a burn pile (diesel, not gas), which side of the fence post to run the fencing (inside, not out), how to burn a field (against the wind) and how to run a chain saw. They've given me their wine, a burn barrel (hmmm, fire theme) and friendship. They've helped me and I've helped them.

But this week I was flabbergasted (don't get to use that word much). Melissa knew I was working on a kitchen remodel. Bill was on his way up from San Fran. Out of the blue he offered to haul up and install some inexpensive, but very nice granite slabs. Really - why? Just cuz he wanted to... how nice! Shall we say the kitchen project is off to a great start!

My neighbors are more than folks that live near me, they're my friends.

The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it. - Emerson.

Lula Belle

2007-02-22T13:41:00.000-08:00

Last night I stopped to feed the goats on the way back from a walk with the dogs. As I was putting down grain dishes, I noticed Lula Belle was missing. I'd remembered seeing her grazing by the fence that morning so she couldn't be far. Upon further investigation, I found her in the exact spot, but she wasn't grazing - her head was stuck between the wires in the fence. Poor thing, she'd gotten her head and horns thru the same small hole and couldn't get out. And no matter what, I couldn't twist her head in the right way to pull her out either.

I went back to the shop, got some tools and returned to cut her out. As I began to work, she began to chew on my pant leg - I realized she'd probably been stuck there over night and was starving (well as starving as an overfed goat can be). 45 minutes with a hack saw (steel rod fencing doesn't want to be cut with a pair of wire cutters), sawing a little to close to her head for comfort, and I was able to open the fence enough to free her. Surprisingly she didn't seem any worse for wear and was back in the shed just in time for another hail storm. Lula Belle is the most mild mannered one of the bunch, but is usually the one to get herself into a bind.

Crispy Critter

2007-02-20T14:27:00.000-08:00

I was driving into town this morning when I started smelling burnt Chinese food, specifically what I imagine burnt fried rice would smell like. This would have been fine had I been going past a Chinese food joint, but I was driving thru grass fields. I didn't want there to be anything wrong with my car, so I tried to ignore it - this works really well, if you want something to go away just ignore it and it will :)

This little trick didn't seem to be working today, so once I was in town I decided to go see Matthew the mechanic. This guy is great - loves to figure things out and go over all the possibilities in great detail. It always takes at least 2 guys to look under the hood and make comments (yep, that smells bad... sort of like burning pine needles... doesn't smell like oil... nope, don't see any oil leaks). There was smoke coming from under a tin shield over the catalytic converter (the thing that makes your exhaust emissions less toxic, I think). Matthew expertly poked under there with a long bent wire and dislodge a few chard bits. The conclusion... either I have some hunk of pine needles stuck in there (which I don't) or a poor little field mouse wanted to get warm and dry and instead got barbecued to a crisp. I feel bad enough for the mouse, but now I have to smell his poor chard remains until they're completely gone - yuck!

Goat Pedicures

2007-02-12T12:22:00.000-08:00

Trimming goat hooves is no fun for anyone. The goats don't like it and I don't like making them uncomfortable. But, it must be done and everyone feels better after a little pedicure.

Usually the goats resist being tied up and its a wrestling match to keep them still, so I talked a friend into helping. Mark was great with the animals (until Sally tried to head butt him) and everyone did pretty well - especially Blanche, who just stood there patiently. Fortunately, the hooves weren't in as bad a shape as I'd imagined... I should have done this 2 months ago and was feeling guilty about neglecting it for so long. I'd forgotten their hooves are softer this time of year because the ground's damp from all the rain, so the trimming went quickly. It was almost so easy, I felt silly having asked for help... next time I'll be doing it myself.

It's not what we do that's so important, but how much we love what we put into what we do: we should all do small things with great love.
- Mother Teresa

Rise and Shine

2007-02-08T12:36:00.000-08:00

I'm not a fan of getting up any too early, especially in the dark winter months, but there are days when it can't be avoided. Yesterday I was resisting - I was so cozy in bed and it was still dark out. But, I needed to take the dogs for a quick run before some early morning meetings. I should know better... there is no such thing as a quick run when you're on a tight schedule. You never know what you'll run into, but there's usually something.

So out the door we went with hardly a hint of light in the sky. Once we were out the gate, Bogart and Eloise began sniffing and circling the field wildly (please, no deer to chase or skunks to mess with). As the light began to come up over the hill, they started running full force and I could see what they were on to... a herd of 40-50 elk about 150 yards away. I started to yell "come" and "leave it", but that's just stupid - why would you come when there's a herd of elk right in front of you!

The elk began to move and I thought for sure the dogs would be chasing a stampede all the way to the woods (no short run on a tight schedule), but then the elk stopped. The dogs ran right up to them, probably said "good morning" and started back. The elk just watched and didn't move until I got within 50 yards.

This morning I saw a lone coyote crossing the field as we returned from a long walk. Both sightings were well worth getting out of bed.

Happiness in a Bag of Beans

2007-02-05T15:06:00.000-08:00

Recently, Kate gifted me with a bag of beans. No ordinary beans, these came from a gourmet food shop she visited near Napa... there were corona, canellini and another un-named variety all wanting to be transformed into something fabulous. As excited as I was to have varieties of beans I normally don't have access to, I also loved the story about the shop... you enter this old house thru what seems to be the kitchen door and you arrive in a room, with walls covered in business cards that have probably been there 50 years. The shop is filled with the best imported salamis, finest olive oils and other food treasures. You don't even label the beans as you scoop them from the bin - the proprietor knows each bean and its price.

The cannelinnis found themselves into my favorite vegetable soup recipe:

Havenhill's Soup au Pistou

This is the French version of Minestrone and is topped with sauce au pistou or basil sauce. Traditional recipes for basil sauce are similar to pesto without the pine nuts, but I use my favorite pesto sauce, which I made at the end of the summer and is waiting in the freezer for this batch of soup or a bowl of pasta. This soup should be made with the seasons - vary the vegetables with what you like and what's in season. In the summer it can be served cold. Anytime of year add some crusty bread and a hunk of cheese and you'll have a delicious meal.

2 Tbsp olive oil
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 small onion, chopped
1 pound dried small white beans (canellini or Great Northern), soaked overnight
1Tbsp herbes de Provence
1 pound pumpkin or winter squash, peeled and cubed
1 1/2 pounds cauliflower, core removed and flowerettes separated
1 1/2 pound zucchinis, halved lengthwise and sliced 1/4 inch thick
1 1/2 pounds tomatoes, peeled and chopped or 1 (14.5) oz can chopped tomatoes
salt and pepper to taste
Pesto (recipe follows)
Freshly grated Parmesan

In a stock pot combine the olive oil and onions and saute until the onions are fragrant and soft, about 10 minutes. Add garlic and saute 2 minutes more. Add the beans and pumpkin. Stir to coat and cook over low heat for 5 minutes. Add 1 1/2 to 2 quarts of water and simmer, partially covered, until beans and pumpkin are just tender, about 30 minutes.

Add the cauliflower and simmer 5 more minutes. Then add the zucchini and tomatoes. Simmer another 5 minutes or until all the veggies are tender, but not mushy.

Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve with a generous dollop of pesto and Parmesan cheese.

My Favorite Pesto

Pesto is easy and can be altered to your taste. I started using this as my base many years ago. It came from a guy at my farmers market in Denver - he sold the best basil and lettuce (that's it). Try to make pesto at the end of summer with fresh basil and freeze in little half-pint jars - you'll be delighted in the middle of winter. Once you open a jar, just make sure to keep a layer of olive oil on the top and it will stay bright green in the fridge for weeks. I make my pesto thicker for adding to soups and then I can thin with olive oil or broth for pasta or pizza sauce as I like.

4 cups basil
4 cloves garlic, minced (add more if you like)
1 cup pine nuts
3/4 cup olive oil (more if needed)
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan
salt to taste

Combine the ingredients in a food processor or blender and process until smooth. Add more oil as needed and salt to taste.

A Food Slut and Politics

2007-01-28T12:02:00.000-08:00

Bart, responsible for my graphic/web design and harassing me as needed, recently called me a food slut and he's right - offer me some yummy tid-bit or the chance to try a new wine and I'm yours, at least for as long as the glass or meal lasts.

It doesn't have to be haute cuisine, just really good. I'm as happy with a plate of beans and rice smothered in spicy green chili at my favorite dive in Denver as I am with Jeff's crab cakes at the Silver Grille.

Food is life, so it might as well be damn good... the better you eat, the better your life. I find so much pleasure in cooking and sharing delicious meals with friends, it does improve my quality of life.

I want my food tasty and local. Eating local and in season is getting a lot of press these days for good reason. I will spare you my produce crate (soap box), except to say I've been eating mostly from local farmers for the past 5 years and I love it. Fresh tomatoes in January... haven't had one in years, but my freezer is stocked with bags of Bill's tomatoes waiting for soups or sauce. Bill's basil is also in little jars of frozen pesto waiting to brighten the same soups or sauce, and Annette's berries are right there too for oatmeal, pancakes or a crisp. In my garage are a few squash and a box of onions and shallots from the last days of the farmers market. Eating local is easy most of the year, but takes a bit of preparation for winter... so worth it knowing the fruits of my friends labor are still nourishing me on a gray winter evening.

This variety of food politics has recently been given a name, locavore - eating only what's grown within a 100 mile radius. Does this mean all locavores are food sluts? Probably not, but I bet there aren't many who would turn down a bite of local cheese and a chance to talk about food.

A Motley Crew

2007-01-28T10:32:00.000-08:00

I just returned from a quick getaway to the Coast with my friend Kate, her two dogs and mine. Oregonians go to the beach anytime of year, but winter offers a unique experience - you could wind up storm watching or stroll the sand without a soul in sight. We lucked out with crisp weather, blue skies and empty beaches.

We walked for miles while the dogs played along the shore, sniffing logs and anything the tide washed up. Then our motley crew crashed early in the evening... there's nothing better than seeing a pack of dogs curled up after a long day on the beach. The snoozing fur balls gave us a chance to drink wine, eat fresh crab and read in front of the fire.

There was also time for a trip to my favorite wine shop, Nye Beach Gallery, where Wendy stocked us with some favorite Oregon Pinot Noirs and turned me onto a LAN Rioja - young, but with plenty of flavor and spice. Then to Panini for handmade pizza and the best Caesar salad ever - whole leaves of romaine stacked log-cabin style, drizzled with a garlicy dressing and topped with homemade croutons.

Sometimes the simplest trips are the best... happy paw prints in the sand, good food, yummy wine and a pal to enjoy it all with.

Wherever you are, it is your own friends who make your world - William James

Chainsaws, Chicks and Change

2007-01-20T12:19:00.000-08:00

So... it seems I've forgotten how to blog, or more specifically to blog. As the saying goes, life happens when you're making other plans, and mine took a little turn many months back... Tom chose to pursue his dreams elsewhere and has moved on. Of course, I wish him the best. Updates to the website coming soon. Now, on with the pleasures of life at Havenhill.

One of the best things about living in the country is embracing your inner tom boy - she really knows how to have a good time. Sure, my friends in the city have chic purses, a plethora of places to dine, and really cute shoes; but I've got Carhardts (Anne, they're pants not shoes), Romeos (these are shoes), a beat up farm truck and a chainsaw. Knowing how to run a chainsaw, fix my truck and split fire wood are my favorite "I can do anything" things. I like getting cleaned up and looking cute for a night out as much as the next girl, but knowing I'm a (cute) chick with a chainsaw... better than a new pair of shoes!

"To enjoy one's life, one must touch most of it lightly" - Voltaire (thanks Nancy!)

Lavender and llama shearing

2006-08-18T11:47:00.000-07:00

To long since my last post... life's been busy. The lavender was ready to harvest the first week in July. We harvest by hand using large machete type knives called bull hooks (don't even want to know how it got that name). Cutting begins early in the morning and the lavender is laid back on the plant to begin to dry. Mid-afternoon we begin bundling the lavender and load it into the truck. Down to the barn and the lavender is hung in the hay loft to continue drying for the next 2 weeks. With a crew of six, we got most of the field cleared in 2 days. Unfortunately, we started a few days later than we should have and the bottom section of the field was too far along to make it good for drying... we'll cut it back in a few weeks and mulch the stems into the ground. I was disappointed because I hate to leave anything in the field, but the barn is full and it was a good crop so we have plenty to get us through the year.

Pepper and Geena had the pleasure of their annual hair cut 2 weeks ago. Our llama girls are sweet, but not much on human touch so actually catching them is a bit challenging and I'm sure amusing to watch... two adults trying to corner a pair of very agile and quick llamas in a 2 acre pasture. We hold out long sticks (to make our arms appear longer - ha) and try to move them into a corner (or between some brambles and a fence). They run at you, you flinch, they get away and you trip in a hole and fall flat on your face. You get up and do it again. We did catch them and Adrian (Bare Naked Llamas - I love it) did a great job with the shearing. As she shears, I collect the fleece before it falls to the ground... I don't spin, but I send it on to my mom who does (maybe I'll get a scarf one day) . Geena did pretty well and only spit a few times (a nasty green slime that smells, well like regurgitated grass). Pepper, on the other hand, was a bucking bronco (I had forgotten her little tricks). It was all I could do to keep her in one spot while Adrian sheared... her fleece hit the ground and was a mess of fur and dried grass (destine for the trash). We were covered in dirt and oil from the clippers (used to keep the blades lubricated) with bits of fleece stuck everywhere. One more thing off the list for the year.

Lavender festival count down

2006-06-12T16:18:00.000-07:00

So, what really happens on a lavender farm when the "season" is here? To start, allergies happen. Yup, we're a slice of Provence in a sea of grass seed fields; and when the lavender begins to bud, the grass seed pollen drifts and my nose runs.

Other than that, you kick your butt into high gear. Not being a parent, I will stupidly compare this to being pregnant for 9 months and doing nothing to prepare for your child until 2 weeks before the birth. Sure you've made lists in your head, you know what's coming and what needs to be done; but until the pressure's on, it seems like you have all the time in the world (besides, there's enough going on already to keep you runnin' full time).

We're in high gear preparing for our annual lavender festival. Mowing continues, as usual - I was lucky enough to catch a piece of weed cloth in the blade the other day. This gave me a chance to stop mowing, flip the mower on it's end and spend 30 minute dislodging the cloth while I soaked in some sun. Did I mention the mowers have been giving me fits this year!

Festival prep always comes down to a lot to do in the final 2 weeks. Tents and port-a-pots have been ordered, lot of tables and chairs too. Food and wine vendors confirmed, music lined up, hundreds and hundreds of bottles and jars en route for all our products, and I'm sure I've driven Bart crazy by now with last minute requests for this label design or that ad design. Don't worry Barto, I'm sure there's more to come.

Lavender field was weeded this weekend, one more round of mowing to go and we must get the pasture we use for parking cut. It was scheduled for this week, but it looks like rain for the next few days, so we'll try for next week and hope for sun.

I will spend the next 12 days packaging product, taking care of the zillion tiny details that go to the last minute, giving tours to 4 groups, hosting a couple of TV shows and one magazine shoot. It's always stressful, but exciting to know the festival will be here and we'll host at least 2000 folks over the weekend. And, we couldn't do it with out all our friends that rally and pitch in for whatever needs to be done from packaging, to set up, to working the festival - it's our family of friends that make it happen and make it worth while!!

Now, don't go saying, "but darling, you could have done some of this earlier in the year!"... I say it every year and every year I get a little better, but it still comes down to this - it's how I operate, OK. We'll see how sane I am next week.

FYI, no garage or driveway accidents in the past month and Eloise is healing nicely.

Lavender, lavender, lavender

2006-05-28T14:32:00.000-07:00

Crud - I really should have done this sooner. We are a lavender farm, after all, and it might be nice to write about lavender considering the season is upon us. Right now is a good time to plant in your garden - stick to the rule of planting anytime after Mother's Day in areas that experience frost.

There are more than 115 varieties of lavender and surely one suited for your garden, whether you've got a cottage garden, herb garden or drought tolerant garden. Lavender is beautiful in many settings. I recommend buying from a local, reputable nursery to insure the plants are hardy in your zone. If you order from a nursery that ships, just make sure the plants are suited for your zone (we should be taking orders this fall for plants to ship in the spring and will provide info on zone hardiness).

While lavender is adapted to many growing conditions, well draining soil is preferred (it doesn't like wet feet). Dig up your soil and add organic matter as needed. Mix a bit of bone meal with the dirt at the bottom of the hole and add your plant. Water regularly for the first growing season to get the roots established and then less frequently after that (we only irrigate during the really hot days of July and August to keep the plants form getting stressed). If you're putting lavender in a garden with other plants that need more frequent watering, try putting the lavender on an outer edge where it wont get quite as wet.

There are some basics you should know about varieties to assist you in picking the lavender that's right for you. Lavandula Angustiflioa is the English family of lavender. These plants tend to be smaller in size, 18-24" high in bloom, and have a sweet aroma. Typically, they bloom for mid-June to mid-July. Colors range from white and pink to the deep purple shade of the Buena Vista we grow. While each variety has it's own fragrance, English lavenders tend to have a sweet, clean lavender aroma and are the preferred lavenders for use in cooking. Yes, cooking with lavender - see our website for recipes and feel free to bother me for more. We'll be posting a lavender rhubarb crisp next week - I just made it for friends last week and it was delicious. A few varieties to look for are Munstead, Pot Pourri White and Jean Davis.

Lavandula X Intermedia is the French family of lavender. These plants generally get to be about 3' high, although some plants can get to be as big as 4' around. The spikes are longer and sturdier than English lavenders and are preferred for making lavender wands. Colors range from white and dusty blue to dark purple. French lavenders have a pleasant aroma with a bit more camphore than English. They bloom mid-July to early August and make up most of the lavender grown around the world. The oil production of these plants is the highest of all varieties, which accounts for all the lavender fields in France. Some varieties to look for are Grosso, Provence, Hidcote Giant and Dutch White.

Lavandula Stoechas is the Spanish Family of lavender. These are the varieties with the calyces or "butterfly wings" at the top of each bloom. Spanish varieties bloom from mid-May to mid-June, and if pruned after the first bloom, will have a second show in late August. These plants tend to spread out more than their French and English cousins and don't grow in compact mounds. They can be pruned quite hard to form a neat hedge. Beautiful in a garden and a great way to attract bees and butterflies, but Spanish lavenders aren't grown for production. Colors range from white to red and deep purple. Look for Morning Mist, Pippa Pink and Regal Splendour.

Some quick notes on pruning... if you are cutting your lavender to dry for later use, cut when the top third of the the flowers on the spike bloom. This will ensure the buds stay tight and dry on the stem without falling off. Cut the stems an inch above the woody part of the plant and keep the shape of the plant in a tight mound. If you'd rather enjoy the blooms in your garden, once they've begun to fade cut the plants back in the same way. Generally you won't need to cut them back again in the fall, but if new growth has formed by the time you're putting your garden to bed cut them back again.

Dog Days

2006-05-28T13:09:00.000-07:00

It's all about dogs these days. Eloise, our cocker spaniel, recently had surgery on her knee (ACL problems and arthritis)... it's a three (!) month recovery period and we weren't looking forward to it, but had to be done. Tom built a handicap ramp for her out the door (no steps) and we made things a bit more comfortable for her around the house (dog beds in every room, rugs in the hall so she wouldn't slip on the wood floor). The first night was miserable - pain meds weren't working, she was crying, I was crying and exhausted. Fortunately, our vet is also a good friend and by midnight I was on the phone with him begging to up the medication. We doubled it. It only lasted 2 hours. By 5am, we doubled it again (apparently Eloise has a high tolerance for drugs). Finally we got the dose right and for the next few days, my schedule revolved around keeping her doped up. If I was going to run to town, I'd have to leave just after giving her the meds and be back within 3 hours for another round. We are into week 3 and she's doing better - moving a bit faster than she probably should, but no pain and she's taking the confined activity pretty well. I do have my doubts about how we'll keep her on restricted activity for three months - she's a busy girl and nicknamed "Helen" (hell on wheels), by our friend, Heather, who had the pleasure of chasing her around the grass seed fields behind us one afternoon - there are times when a walk in the hills is like herding cats.

Due to the surgery, both Eloise and Bogart missed Silverton's annual Pet Parade last weekend. This is by far my favorite event of the year! Kids of all ages, parade through town with their pets and farm animals... there's the usual mix of dogs you'd expect (many dressed in costume to match their humans), cats in carriers on wagons, chickens, rabbits, hamsters, horses, cows goats and I don't know what else. There are as many or more folks in the parade as are watching it (along with their dogs getting in on the action). Our first year, I walked in the parade with our vet and his pups... we were following a herd of goats and Bogart was thrilled when he got to sniff a goats behind!

Which leads me to our first dog event. Friend Kristine and I decided it would be fun to host a Spring Soiree for the dogs after the Parade... pups could roam the farm and get 10% off in the gift shop, plus a lavender dog biscuit. While we managed to get listed in the calendar of events for two area papers, our local rag dropped it (inadvertently I'm assured). We handed out flyers at the Parade and seemed to have good interest. The weather was better than expected, Kristine came up to help and Bogart wore his purple bandanna to celebrate (I planned to leave Eloise in the house). Five hours, 2 women to host, 14 visitors (including 1 reporter), and about a dozen dogs - it was a total flop! I will say, everyone that came had a grand time - the dogs got to play and socialize (so did the humans), Eloise got a turn at hosting her doggie friends, everyone enjoyed the lavender dog biscuits (including Tom) and I got to spend an afternoon hanging out with Kristine. After careful analysis, we concluded: we didn't market as well as we usually do, there were about 4 other events in town the same day, not everyone who owns a dog wants to take him to a beautiful farm to play, and we never have to do it again. That's one thing off my list for next year!

Everythings comin' up weeds & grass

2006-05-04T13:16:00.000-07:00

The weather here is gorgeous and everything is sprouting, including the weeds. May is "mowing madness" as we try to keep the grass in check and the weeds at bay (I"m pretty sure they're growing an inch a day).

We use an old Snapper rider to mow the lawns and in between the rows of lavender. After spending way to much to have it tuned up and repaired this year, we've already given it a beating. Mowing between the lavender is not for the faint at heart - the ground is rough and it's a bumpy ride (sports bra recommended). Last week I managed to mow over a boulder that I'm sure came up out of the ground just as I drove over it and last night Tom ran over a cable that wrapped itself around the blade in a split second. Really, all you can do is laugh, fix the problem and keep going (and of course, enjoy a glass of wine when the day is done).

And, you've got to savor the season - the garden is beginning to bloom and the lavender field is perking up. Yesterday I made the enjoyable trek to Bauman Farms - a family run farm stand that is always a treat. This time of year, they are known for their hanging baskets... these baskets are huge and draping with flowers already. By summers end, 3 to 4 feet of flowers will be cascading from the pots. So time to hang the baskets and pull the weeds that are beginning to choke the flower beds... with any luck, I'll get a drip system rigged on the hanging baskets and pots this year to prevent the inevitable scorch those days I forget to water.

Keep on truckin'

2006-04-21T11:24:00.000-07:00

Vehicles at Havenhill have become a comedy of errors. Minnie Pearl, our big white '72 Jeep pick-up, always has an issue or two. She's old, but makes a great farm truck - never mind there's no heat, no radio, no seat belts, and up until recently no gas gauge. After four years, Tom finally had time to replace the gas tank (that had a hole in it) and the gauge so we could actually know how much gas we had (or more accurately didn't have). And, after months of having what we thought were alternator problems, Tom concluded we needed a new battery. I was feeling like she was a luxury ride - giddy as I filled the tank and watched the gas gauge go up to full and she starts up with one big roar. No more jumping it just to haul stuff to the burn pile - it's the small things in life.

Saturday we had a little date day - haul recycling to town, lunch, a few errands, and a load of hay and grain (romantic isn't it). As we drove home in the pouring rain, Minnie started to sputter and died on the side of the road. The gas gauge read half full, so it surely wasn't that. We hiked up the road to a neighbors to borrow a few tools for what Tom thought was a clogged fuel filter. Farmers always like a chance to help a neighbor and a broke down vehicle is even better. Denny insisted on towing the truck into the shop so he and Tom could work on it out of the rain ( we were cold, wet pups). I took advantage of Karen's offer to sit for a chat and warm up. My fingers and toes finally thawed, I checked on the boys just as they had concluded we were out of gas. Half full on the new gas gauge actually means empty! Denny got a good laugh and now we know empty is well before "E". I'm fine with that as long as I know what I'm dealing with... wonder if there's any chance of getting heat (and defrost) before winter arrives again?

Final note - my car is back from the body shop and, after driving the CJ7 for 2 weeks, it's too easy to drive.

All for the love of eggs

2006-04-17T13:53:00.000-07:00

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God... was all she could say as she ran after her truck. Shannon delivers farm fresh eggs to us each week (one of the great perks of living in the country is farm fresh everything - even better when it's delivered to your door) and we were standing in the kitchen having a little chat. Her son yelled, "Mom - the truck!"and there it was rolling down the driveway and headed toward the very sloppy grass seed field. We ran out, and I just kept thinking it was gone... bouncing down the field into who knows what. Instead, it wedged itself against a tree. We scurried around like chickens, trying to push it out, getting the phone to call her hubby, running back to get Tom, getting a jacket for her kid and laughing. Tom pulled the truck out in minutes - "You know I hated that"... right, guys hate playing with 4 wheel drive and tow straps. And Shannon, "All for the love of eggs"... yep, we'll really appreciate our omlettes this week!

The pleasures of mucking

2006-04-17T12:48:00.000-07:00

No one ever said farming was glamorous, but they should have. Last Sunday I had the pleasure of mucking out the goat/llama shed. You really need to be in the right frame of mind for this - that Zen feeling that allows you to think about something other than the fact that you're shovelling 6 months worth of hay and straw compacted with goat/llama manure and pee. For some reason, everyone decided the shed made a better bathroom than bedroom this winter... and one of the cuddly critters thought it would be best to pee right in front of the hay room door so I get to step in each time I feed! I don't know who, but I suspect it's one of the llama girls. A little fact we didn't know when we adopted Pepper and Geena - llamas always go to the bathroom in the same spot. Fine if it's out in the pasture, not so great if it's in the shed.

So, it was an enjoyable afternoon shovelling the gunk into the truck and then into a burn pile to be torched when things dry out a bit. Our new neighbors (they just bought the 5 acre vineyard next door) stopped by near the end. Very nice to see them, but I giggled under my breath when she asked if this was how we spent every Sunday (basking in the rain and shovelling shit). Tom, who had been playing with burn piles while I shoveled (in his defense, the shed clean up was my project), tried to make it sound like it wasn't all work, but all I could think was I'd be mowing or weeding or something every weekend now until October. Actually, my goal is to hire more help this summer so that isn't the case (I can only hope), but no matter there's always something that needs to be done (note to self, let some things go so you can enjoy the summer).

Farming may not be glamorous, but I wouldn't trade it for anything...

Garage accidents and goat escapades

2006-04-06T10:42:00.000-07:00

OK, so I must get better at this... I was scolded the other day by a friend I ran into at the grocery store because my blog was not up to date. And she's right!

So, my stupid accident of the week... I came home and pulled into the garage. I really had to pee, so slammed the car into park and ran into the house. A few minutes later I heard a loud crunch... turns out the car was not in park, but neutral and the drivers door was open. As the car rolled out of the garage, the door caught on the divider between the 2 doors. Once I got the car back in (and in park), I realized the door wouldn't close. I couldn't even get the car out to take it to the shop! What do you say to the insurance company - ah, I had an accident in my garage! And, what do you tell the tow company - I need my car towed, but I can't get it out of the garage! They sent a guy and it took him quite a while to figure out how to get the door closed enough to get it out. As he was putting it on the truck he said, "I've never done this before"... right, kind of an unusual situation. No, he'd never towed a car before! They sent him cuz they thought he'd be the one to figure out the door, but getting the car on the truck was a different story. Well, he did a fine job and now just waiting for them to fix the darn thing. Amazingly stupid accident.

So, I'm driving Tom's old Jeep CJ-7 for the time... great work out for my left leg as the clutch is amazingly tight and great if you want the guys to notice. I always forget - nothing like a blonde in an old Jeep to turn a few heads (who knew it took 2 guys to wash your windshield) - works the same in our old '72 Jeep pick-up. Girls in boys toys - well, fun for a week or so.

And, Lulla Belle's great escape last night... we came home after a yummy dinner at the Silver Grille - a good bye for our journalist friend, Angelina, who's returning to Denver after an 18 month stint at our local rag, The Appeal. A message from our neighbor said the goats were out... the thought of finding goats in the dark is always pleasant. Luckily only Lulla Belle was out - she'd slipped thru a spot where the fence wasn't tacked down. The funniest part was all the other animals were right by the fence calling to her. I was getting grain to coax them in (normally they come running) and Tom was trying to find our escape convict. No one would come until she was safely inside and then it was a stampede in the dark... even Geena, our shiest llama got within 2 feet of me before she realized she was that close (startled both of us). Hopefully safe and sound for a while.

The answer is blowin' in the wind

2006-01-30T11:20:00.000-08:00

The recent prepping of a half acre field introduced me to a somewhat unexpected challenge with weed cloth - wind.

In September, with the help of my grass seed farming friend, Zach, I burned the field to kill the weeds. Controlled field burning is a common, and sometimes controversial, practice in Oregon. It's used to both kill weeds and to reduce straw, left from combining, to ash which can be absorbed into the earth. And, it's amazing to watch - hundreds of acres up in flames and then done in minutes (I admit, I like burn season). My little burn wasn't nearly as impressive, but still exciting.

After the burn, the soil was tilled and I spread dolomite lime to increase the pH. We don't have the proper spreader for lime, so I improvised - throwing 500 pounds of dolomite from the back of the truck by hand. Really, it only took a few hours and wouldn't have been bad at all, except the guys across the road were also spreading lime on their field with a gigantic tractor that can do hundreds of acres in a few hours. I saw them sitting on the back of their truck watching me and I knew they'd have a story for their wives at dinner - some crazy chick spreading lime out of the back of her truck by hand! This is not the first time our little farm, in the middle of huge grass seed and Christmas tree farms, has been the source of amusement for our neighbors.

Finally the weed cloth. I marked out the rows, 24 each and 110 ft long, and we began rolling it out. Nothing too difficult - get it straight and pin it down every 3 feet with U-shaped clips. It's a lot of bending and stooping, but four of us finished in a day. November came and so did the wind -30 mph wind. The weekend of our Autumn Market, a bit of cloth pulled up, then some more, until long sheets were just whipping around down there, hanging on by four or five clips. Over Thanksgiving and my dad and I repaired the damamge - more clips and closer together. Looked great and I was certain it would last.

It did, until the wind returned over the holidays. More weed cloth streamers whipping around right where anyone driving by could see. Comments from a few neighbors and I knew folks were watching and waiting to see if it would just blow away altogether. A few weeks ago we pinned it down again. And, this weekend the winds returned... so far so good.

Christmas finally ends with a chain saw

2006-01-23T13:33:00.000-08:00

Silverton's Christmas traditions are right out of a Norman Rockwell painting and we could barely believe it the first year we were here, but now we're hooked and seem to get deeper into it each year. Right after Thanksgiving, a huge 60 foot tree is erected in the middle of Main St (right outside Tom's office window, as it happens). There's actually a manhole in the middle of the street for the trunk (chain saws needed to trim it to fit) and all kinds of wires connected to near-by buildings for stability. It is decorated and the town gathers on the first Friday in December to sing carols and officially light the tree (think Santa in a cherry-picker waving magic fairy dust). In addition to this program, another tree is decorated at the "Santa house", where Santa holds court for the month of December. This tree seems much smaller and it is. But, as I found out when they were looking for a volunteer to remove this smaller tree, it's not all that small. Foolishly, I offered to haul the Santa house tree up to our burn pile - "I'll just throw it on top of my SUV on the way home". Ah, no the tree is 20' - you'll need a chainsaw and your truck. Well, we had a chainsaw and a truck, so I'd get Tom to help me. Yesterday, we sawed the thing in half, sawed off the pallet and supports that were holding it up and barely fit it into 2 loads, up to the burn pile - the base of the tree was almost 12" across and it weighed a ton! All this was just prep work - next year we'll help put up and take down the big tree on Main St... guess I'd better learn how to use the chain saw!

follow your dream...

2006-01-19T13:42:00.000-08:00

Confession #1 - I have no idea what I'm doing with this blog. Well, not exactly true, but I do feel a bit awkward about this first posting (and I'm sure I will for sometime). From the beginning I will also confess that I wont post every day - often, but not every day.

In the fall of 2001, Tom and I and our two dogs, Eloise and Bogart, left life in Denver to pursue a dream of farm living and small towniness in rural Oregon. Admittedly, for all the research we did, nothing could prepare us for what living in the country would really be like. It turns out life on a lavender farm suits us well... we've learned a heck of a lot about farming (in case you're wondering, it's an incredible amount of work), made many good friends we love as family and have had many mis-adventures along the way. Hopefully, you'll laugh along as we continue the journey, learn more than you ever wanted to know about lavender and share inspiration for keeping life simple while enjoying the ride.