July 22, 2016 Update

THIS WEEK’S HARVEST (July 22, from 2-6 pm):2013Misc_creditRichardBauman_17

Beets $2.50/bunch
Blueberries (limited quantity) $2.50/half pint
Broccoli (limited quantity) $3.00/bunch
Carrots $2.50/bunch
*Cherry Tomatoes (limited quantity) $ 3.50/pint
Collard Greens $2.50/bunch
Cucumbers $2.00/lb
Eggs $3.00/half dozen
*Eggplant (limited quantity) $3.00/lb
Frisee Endive $2.50/head
Green Beans $3.00/quart
Kale (assorted varieties) $2.50/bunch
Lettuce $2.00/head
Onions $1.00/each
Summer Squash $1.50/lb
Swiss Chard $2.50/bunch

Herbs $1.50/bunch (may include *basil, *cilantro, sage, oregano, thyme, lavender, mint, chives,
etc.)
Raw Honey from the bees on the property $14 for a 12 oz. jar
Flower Bouquets – $5.00/small $10.00/large

*NEW ARRIVALS THIS WEEK


 

Oh My! Weather!

Tomato waiting to be picked.The heat has put a frenzied energy in all the plants – they have grown enormously, so much so that if I stood and watched ever so carefully, I am certain that I would see an actual change in  the size of the plant. I have not been able to try this because I have been distracted by the weeds – they are in full fervour – trying to take over the soil. (aaargh!)

 The storms brought down the entire row of tomatoes, but tomato lovers, fret not. I was able to get them back upright without losing the fruits. The tomatoes are so tall, over ten feet easy,  that they are now folding over themselves at the top. Yes, there are plenty of tomatoes and I am excited to be harvesting the first of the cherry tomatoes this week. By next week, I think we  will have them coming in full force, as will the sweet peppers. I am excited and hope you are as well.

 All in all, this is the time of rolling up the sleeves and remaining focused, pulling out weeds and keeping an eye on the fruit.

 I hope that you are staying cool and eating well!

 your farmer,
Kripa


RECIPES:

13 DELICIOUS CUCUMBER RECIPES
SUMMER SQUASH CASSEROLE


 

A Little Something Else

Believe This
BY RICHARD LEVINE

All morning, doing the hard, root-wrestling work of turning a yard from the wild
to a gardener’s will, I heard a bird singing
from a hidden, though not distant, perch;
a song of swift, syncopated syllables sounding
like, Can you believe this, believe this, believe?
Can you believe this, believe this, believe?
And all morning, I did believe. All morning,
between break-even bouts with the unwanted,
I wanted to see that bird, and looked up so
I might later recognize it in a guide, and know
and call its name, but even more, I wanted
to join its church. For all morning, and many
a time in my life, I have wondered who, beyond
this plot I work, has called the order of being,
that givers of food are deemed lesser
than are the receivers. All morning,
muscling my will against that of the wild,
to claim a place in the bounty of earth,
seed, root, sun and rain, I offered my labor
as a kind of grace, and gave thanks even
for the aching in my body, which reached
beyond this work and this gift of struggle.