On Monday I was planting more corn. Seeds into cell trays of potting soil this time, and I asked my older son Jonas to help out. In true thirteen year old style he slumped out with his I-pod filling his head with lord only knows what, but, hey, he was actually helping out dear old mother so, OK. After a few trays he pulled out one earphone and said, “so are the workers all at the other field today?”
“No honey, it’s Monday, it’s everyone’s day off.”
“But you’re working. This is work.”
“Yeah, but I like it. I only do work I like on Mondays.”
The earplug plugged back in. It’s complicated, the whole work/play thing for us. Colin and I love our work. All of it. We have to try hard to make ourselves stop playing in the dirt to do lots of other things like make dinner and wash our dishes and stuff.
Later that day I drove Jonas and his friend to the movie place for a matinee and allowed myself the pleasure of reading an interview with Wendell Berry that was printed in the Sun magazine. If you don’t know already, I’ll tell you, Wendell Berry is a farm hero.
He is a farmer in Kentucky and he is also a writer and a poet and inspirational, rational, forward thinking fellow. In this interview, Berry states that farming is both an art and a science. “Art is a way of making, and science is a way of knowing. You’re never going to escape the need for either one; you’ve got to have a certain amount of knowledge, and you’ve got to have a certain amount of art. You’ve got to know how to make a thing- whether it’s a crop or a novel- and you’ve got to have a way of making it.” That’s us, farmer artist scientists, learning from all of our trials and errors all the time.
Reading that line reminds me of a time a few years ago when one of our Site 2 neighbors was out sunbathing while Colin tractored up the field. I can’t remember if he was tilling or cultivating or what, but he was worried about ruining her tan with all the dust he was kicking up. Back and forth he went, cringing as he approached her deck, and relaxing a little as he moved away, when finally she sat up and waved and said to him, “You make that look like a fine art.”
Do you know what I’m talking about when I say Site 1, 2, or 3? I can never remember from one week to the next, let alone one year to the next, how much detail I went into about our operation, here. We live on 6 acres in Tumwater, of which two are arable. We rent about twenty acres with Littlerock Road dividing it in half. Site one is here, at home, Site two is the part of the Littlerock field that you can see from the road, and Site 3 is the part hidden across the street. Site 2 has a lot of mobile home neighbors to the North and they do provide us with generous company and stories to tell.

Garlic Scapes are the flowering stem of the plant. You can chop them up and sauté the way you normally would the clove of garlic, or you can cut them into two inch pieces and steam them. They turn out sort of like cooked green beans but with a soft warm garlic flavor. Green Garlic is just slightly immature garlic bulbs. Because they are not fully mature, you can eat the whole thing, wrappers, cloves, stems, leaves, all of it into the pan or the wok. Yum. This sort of garlic needs to be kept in the refrigerator, not out on the counter top. Use it within the week. It’s a fresh vegetable, juicy and sweet. This week’s variety is called Chet’s Early Italian Roses.
Garlic is gaining recognition for its health and healing benefits as more and more medical studies reveal excellent results. Some of the believed therapeutic benefits include fighting infections, cancer prevention, stimulating the immune system, prevention and relief of chronic bronchitis, use as an expectorant and decongestant and reduction of blood pressure, cholesterol and triglycerides. If the medicinal benefits are what you are after, use your garlic raw! The 100 sulfur containing compounds that instill the medicinal properties also contribute to “garlic breath”. Chew a little raw parsley to remedy any ill odors that might annoy you and continue to enjoy garlic’s many gifts.
Our farmer’s market stall neighbor Amando, maker of Andean Garlic Sauces, says that his product is for people who are not afraid to be alone. I guess because no one would want to be near them with garlic breath. But, I love the smell of garlic in the kitchen, in the mouth, or as in the case of my husband, farmer Colin, oozing out of his every pore. I think garlic sweat smells nicer than average unscented human sweat. Colin carries a head of garlic in his pocket at all times, chew it like gum. Me, I like it sautéed a little first, or it hurts my tummy. Try some and see if you like it.

Last year we bought half a cow for the freezer, to keep the chickens company, you know. Anyway, we are almost done eating it, except for a few packages of soup bones. Today I browned some of the soup bones with shallot, green garlic and scallions, and a few dried peppers, and left it all to simmer in the crock pot while I went about my business. Then I made some rice and chopped up some bok choy into the dishes and ladled the broth over the top with a few pieces of the meat. Very satisfying. I could have made it more hearty by adding carrots and potatoes, but I’ll save that for fall.