The Open Gate Farm On Camano Island, Washington

Our farm has 3 legs.  The produce, the bakery, and the nursery.  Explore all three in these pages and keep checking back because we update a lot!  Our weekly newsletter is posted below.  Our store is to the right.  If  you want to ask a question, write us at jon@theopengatefarm.com and as soon as we get back inside and cleaned up, we’ll answer you.

And if we don’t have an answer, odds are our ducks or chickens will.

Yes.  We are GMO free.

Welcome to the farm!

Dear Friends:

The stand may be closed at the moment, but Valentine’s Day is just around the corner.  It’s not too early to be thinking sweet thoughts about your sweetie!  We know from personal experience they tend to be fond of a good cinnamon roll.  If your sweetie isn’t sweet enough, a couple goodies from The Open Gate Farm Bakery should do the trick. We’ll be reopening just in time, February 1^st with great baked goods made with fresh and wholesome ingredients.

Until then, you can always call us and order up a loaf or two or three to tide you over.  We may be on holiday, but not so distant a holiday that we or Kathryn, our stand in farmer, couldn’t find the ingredients to make you your favorite.  I believe there may even be a loaf of whole wheat left this Friday from an order already booked.  Call the farm if you want it!  Check your challah, it may need reloading.

This is a charming time of year.  The hard holidays are behind us, the new year lies before us all clean and uncommitted.  Dreams and ideas begin to bud on the branches of our lives and the chickens are handling the weeding this week.  This is when we haul out big sheets of paper and sharp pencils and begin laying out the new year.   Or at least our plans for it.  Always though with the admonition that if you want to make God laugh, make some plans.  However we press on, ignoring the cosmic chuckles, and start drawing lines.

Kale.  We have to really get serious about raising kale.  The demand last year outstripped our hard working plants.  A few of those dinosaur guys are still out there, waving their hands at passing cars.  They want to be back.  Probably a whole bed of them.  And in this election year, life would not be complete without the white and red Russian kales shouting political statements at each other.  If there is going to be a revolution in the garden, it will start with those militants.  And Scotch.  A late season arrival at the stand last year, those thrifty bunches actually became the most popular.  Lettuce, carrots, and beets will complete the signature crop section of the garden.  Then on to figuring out where to hang the beans and tuck in the squash and hide the radishes.

It’s a time of looking forward and back at the same time.  Kind of like tinkering with one’s genealogy.  There’s value in this.  Learning that your farmer’s wife has great grandparents buried in southern Oregon only 20 miles from where your farmer has great grandparents buried is kind of neat.  His had left Ohio to live with a son in the West.  Both families were farmers and given the population of the area then probably knew each other.  So we’ve perhaps known each other for generations apparently but had to rediscover each other in Sacramento 40+ years ago.  Maybe that’s why we get along so well.

When one has an affinity, be it for the soil or the sound of music or the heart of another human or an orphan in Mexico, it is worthwhile to consider why.  It could be genetic and not able to be fought off.  Now that we know both our roots had dirt under the finger nails it helps us see why what we are doing comes so naturally.  It explains why for us the most lost day of all is a day we don’t get outside.  Even in the rain.  And the wind.  But not the snow.  It makes it easier on trips.  We know stopping at nurseries and farmer’s markets and orphanages will be on both of our to do lists.

Your farmer was raised as a Quaker (the silent ones – “Hah! Not you!” she says).  And her father was raised in a Friend’s Church (the not silent Quaker side of the denomination).  And so is it any wonder they share a strong faith together?  Is it any wonder they find their closest friends among the gentle people of the world?

When we know these kinds of things about each other, it makes looking forward into the future more fun.  It means the two of us can consider kale seriously.  It means we can count on each other down to the DNA level of our faith and practice to be there, to care, to love, and to live fully with each other.  It means we can face the future knowing that we’ll have help pulling any weeds that show up in the garden of life, the garden we are now planning with paper and pencil and ruler in this pause between the seasons.

In this interim between the fading holidays and the budding new year, it might be fruitful to find all you share in common with those in your life.  You may discover fields of flowers that you can grow together which will tell you where your gardens should be in the year ahead.  You can ask how parents and grandparents felt about fields and food and fellowship and friends.  How did your grandparents feel about living where and how they did?  What struggles did they have and how did they overcome them?  Guessing is o.k., but your DNA may give you some hints.  It’s a grand conversation.  Looking at what we share builds homes, families, and communities.  Focusing on differences breaks down relationships.

Let’s take some time now and build.  Let’s find the common ground which can bear flowers and fruit in this new year ahead.  If we do, it will be a charming year, a year of memories and joy and our futures will be the richer for it.

Happy Hoeing,

Jon and Elaine, the linked up farmers, Snickers the thoughtful dog, Mystery the Quakerly cat, Ben and his flock of weeding hens, and the good parson, Dudley Brown and his flock of planning ducks, all of whom live joyfully at The Open Gate Farm.

Now here's a pair to draw to!

Dear Friends:

Our hearts have been stolen by the stollen.  This German Christmas delight is a loaf of rich bread filled with nuts and raisins and cranberries and candied cherries and other good stuff.  We sold all we made last week in about an hour on Saturday.  This week we plan to have some, at least at the start of the day, every day.  You’ll find it tucked in by the cinnamon rolls and focaccia.  If you want to be sure to get some, call now and reserve it.  We already have orders so that might be prudent.  Pictures are at our web site, www.theopengatefarm.com so hop on over there and admire what $10 can get you this year.  Oh.  They weighed in at about 1.5 pounds on their way to the oven.

We do still have some oven capacity for Tannenbaum Christmas Trees, if you have a party or family you want to impress.  This has become the most popular bakery item we have ever made and looks to become a long time tradition at the farm.  It looks impressive and tastes as good as it looks!

This is our last week open until February1st.  After Christmas and all of January the stand will be closed but we will bake special orders.  Call (360-387-4449) for any of the breads and we’ll make sure your table will be filled.  For us, it will be time to pause and give thanks for a great year with you and plan for the new year ahead.  Lots of ideas and dreams on the radar!  Careful planning makes the load lighter and the time much more fun!  So go over the list below and then call to make sure your freezer is full when we hit the pause button in a few days!

Ben, our handsome red rooster, came up to the kitchen window the other day to have a talk.  We were inside, keeping an eye on a load of cookies and well, you know the health department.  They’re not keen on animals in the kitchen, so we chatted through the open window, he perched on the stored picnic table and we leaning on the sink.

He got right to the point.  He reminded us that when he came to live with us, we were told his full name is Ben Ned.  He came from a home where they knew that “Ben” means “son of” so translated, his name means “son of Ned”.   His father’s name was Ned, so he naturally was called, “son of Ned”. He decided when he arrived here that he preferred the name, “Ben”, so that’s what we called him.  But as he has been with our flock over the last several months, he has come to realize that he is the only one who knows his father’s name.  In fact, none of his girls even know their mother’s name.  This is sad, he said.  His flock are all orphans and he is in charge of an orphanage.

This is not a bad job, he said, turning and staring lovingly at the americanas who had followed him up onto the deck.  But it can be heart wrenching at times.  When one of the girls is looking sad, it is often because they are thinking of what they don’t have, like a parent to encourage and love them and give them a bit of coaching now and then on how to solve some of the problems of life a chicken encounters.  In fact, he went on, that is why chickens bully each other sometimes.  They never had a parent to teach them it was wrong.  They never had a parent who loved them unconditionally so much they did not need to prove their worth by beating someone else up.  He said dominance in chickens really is just acting out of not enough love in their lives.  But he was wondering if we people had the same problem.

We told him that the bullying we humans do comes from much the same root.  Bullys are people who have not been loved to the point of believing they are good people, who have not been loved unconditionally.  When we see a bully, we are actually seeing a parent who does not know how to love unconditionally.

We went on to explain that yes, like chickens and animals everywhere we humans also eventually become orphans too.  For most of us it happens later in life as our parents die of old age.  By then though, we’ve buried enough pets that we’ve learned how to handle grief and loss and how to love others as we go through hard times.

Sometimes it happens sooner and those children will be sent to live in an orphanage.  In other countries it is usually a group home with a couple who manage to keep track of 30 or 100 children at once.  We paused and saw him quickly count his 11 charges and then turn back to us with wide eyes.  “100?  Man, that’s a lot of running around to keep track of!”

“Yes,” we said.  “It is never easy.”  We went on to tell him that here in our country we don’t really have orphanages as such.  Here children who don’t have a parent whether through death or incompetence are placed in foster homes.  But in foreign lands like Mexico or Brazil or Liberia, a child without parents is fortunate if they can get taken in by one of these orphanages.  Here in America, we told him, the government pays the care givers some money to buy food and clothing, but in other countries those big hearted people who take in children have to come up with the cash themselves.

“So if I understand it,” he said, “in Mexico for example, I would have to get a great job and make a lot of money so I could buy the corn and water and pellets of food, not to mention the straw for the floor of the house.  In addition to being a good father for all 100 kids.”

“You’ve got it” we replied.

“Are there very many of those orphanage places out there?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Lots.”  We replied.  “In fact, when we go to Mexico the first part of January, we plan to visit one in Ciudad Morelos, down by the border with Arizona.  It’s not a huge one.  There are only 34 children.  But they are struggling and we are going to see if there is anything we can do to help them.  We’re thinking it might be useful if we help them put in a garden and teach the children how to grow food.  This visit is just to survey the situation and see what might be done later.”

“You’ll be gone?” he asked with concern in his voice.  “Who will take care of us?  Who will lock out the predators at night and let us out in the mornings to eat bugs in the lawn?  Who will fill our feeder and waterer and toss out a can of corn like you do every morning?”  He paused and thought a moment.  “Gee.  While you’re gone will we become like those orphans with nowhere to live?”

“No” we replied with a laugh.  “We have a friend who will be staying here taking care of the place and that includes you and all our animals.  They will be around almost all the day so if there are any concerns you will have someone to go to for help.”

“Whew!” he said, tossing his red head back with relief.  “I was getting worried!”  He cocked his head and looked us in the eye.  “Does that place you’re going where they take in children with no parents have a name?”

“Yes,” we responded.  “Agua de Vida Orphanage.  Translated it means ‘Water of Life’”

“Well, good luck!” Ben said.  He turned to go and then paused and added, “Water is critical to life I know and we sure appreciate all the water you give us.  We never have to be thirsty around here.  Some of those robins who live in Mexico in the winter have told us it’s really dry down there.  Water of Life, eh?  That’s a great name!  And the love of the care givers is a kind of water too.  And the love of the one who got the kid to the orphanage, the love of their creator, that’s real water too.  Gosh!  What a great name!  I’ll have to tell the girls about this.  Then maybe they won’t feel so sad and alone.  Have a safe trip!”

As our handsome young rooster hopped down and headed off to gather his flock, we realized how right he was.  Water is so ample here between the rain and our well that we forget how important it is.  When we go to where it is scarce, then we become sensitive to how vital it is to life itself.  Without water, we die.  Without hope, we die as well.  Like water, hope keeps life going, it forms and shapes us as we make hope become reality.  And it is as we give hope to others that we too can become “Agua de Vida”.  Let’s look around this week and see where we can give others hope, where we might give others a drink of the best water we know.

Happy Hoeing,

Jon and Elaine, the hope filled farmers, Snickers the happy hoping dog, Mystery the hoping for a nap cat, Ben and his flock of secure hens, and the Parson Dudley Brown with his flock of optimistic ducks, all of whom drink freely of the agua de vida at The Open Gate Farm.

The Open Gate Farm

269 Russell Road,

Camano Island, WA 98282

360-387-4449

www.theopengatefarm.com  and on Facebook too!

Open this week and then closed until February 1, 2012

We will be taking the 24th off and spending the day with our son and his family.  Those wanting bread are ordering in advance and it will be ready for them in a package up at the stand and the money box open and standing by!  These breads also do freeze really well, so if you want extra for while we are closed in January, let us know now.  Your needs can be met.

The stand (bakery, produce, nursery) will be closed the month of January for a break.  If you do want any breads, call us and we can bake it to order, but the 4:30 a.m. alarm will be turned off.  The first week end of February we’ll be opening again, full blast and ready to go!  Have a blessed Christmas, a safe New Year, and we’ll see you then!

The Puzzled Parson Dudley Brown

Dear Friends:

Your choice.  Thumbprint cookies with a chocolate kiss on top or a gingersnap covered in white frosting with a crushed candy cane covering.  Or one of those popular Tannenbaum coffee cake Christmas trees.  Our kitchen is starting to look like a forest, we’ve been making so many for family gatherings and office parties and general get togethers of friends.    It’s all the usual good stuff and more this week!

We were sitting in the warm sunlight on the porch in front of our little office when the good Parson, Dudley Brown, our Indian Runner drake, came over.  Seems he had a problem.  He was stuck on what to say in his Christmas sermon to his little flock, come the 25^th of this month.

We paused in our cutting up of an old water hose for the trash (it’s 20 year run had at last ended with a blowout the length of the line).  Listening carefully, we learned that he was struggling with what many clergy experience this time of the year.  It’s called “Holiday Burnout”.  He explained a fellow only has only so many sermons in him and when you’ve done as many on the same topic as he, sometimes the well is just dry.  It happens occasionally at Easter it seems, but with Christmas having the Advent season drawing down the material as well, he was just plain tapped out.

Well this was a real concern.  A parson or a pastor or any clergy needs to feed their flock good, fresh, inspired material.  He said it felt like the muses were on vacation in Hollywood or Hawaii and would not be back until the end of January.  He was stuck and needed help.  Real help.

So we reflected with him on the Christmas story.  We covered the slow donkey ride to Bethlehem, the loud and crowded inn, the dirty and smelly stable, the gentle and kind  animals, the simple and quiet birth, the home made wooden manger, the rough and tumble shepherds, the bright and shining star, the stunning angelic choir, the three incredibly wealthy  wise men, all of that and more.  And at every angle we tried he hung his beak and quietly said, “Already covered” and “been done to death”.

He said all those points of interest had been covered over and over and over and over through the years.  We sat in silence with our friend for a long, long time.  Thinking, praying, quietly being with him in his hour of difficulty.  He just hung his head and said “Over and over and over and over and…Hey!  I’ve got it!”

The light shown from his bright black eyes and he straightened up, stretching his wings with a flap of thanks to us.  He said the message this year was going to be on the fact that as we live our lives, we “do” Christmas over and over and over and over.  Not until we get it right and then we’re done.  No.  We “do” Christmas over and over and over so we can approach it from a new place, a new position, a new set of struggles and joys, and discover no matter what our current lot in life, Jesus will keep showing up if we take the trouble to go to the manger with those smelly shepherds and honor and worship Him.

As our slender and now inspired friend turned and trotted back to his flock who were still beaking in the grass by the nursery benches, we realized how right he is.  Every year brings new struggles, unimagined pain, unspeakable joy.  Every year we grow and change and become a new person.  This is the time of year now when that new person can once again locate themselves and their place in the universe.  And for many of us, that will be on our knees at a little wooden manger, staring in awe at the beginning of a life whose death and resurrection has changed more lives than any other in the history of mankind.

It’s going to be a good Christmas here on the farm this year.  Come by.  You might get to hear the Parson Dudley Brown quietly practicing his delivery of this year’s message.

Happy Hoeing,

Jon and Elaine, the listening farmers, Snickers the patient dog, Mystery the sermon snoozing cat, Ben and his choir of cackling hens, and the good Parson Dudley Brown and his flock of well-fed ducks, all of whom live joyfully at The Open Gate Farm.

The Christmas Tannenbaum is here!

Dear Friends:

If you’re stumped for a gift for the holidays, come by the farm.  The ducks would be glad to show you several clever ideas.  A loaf of holiday bread is one of their favorites.   Or a gift certificate for a cinnamon roll…though they have trouble persuading people to share those.  And if you really want to impact a life, give the give of education.  There will be a new class session of The Honorable Farmer class in sustainable, affordable farming starting Tuesday, January 17^th right here at the farm.  It runs every Tuesday for 6 weeks from 7 to 9 p.m.  They will have brochures up at the stand for more details.

We are still working on digging the pink peonies, but there are still some of those gorgeous Japonica and Henrietta (white) ones.  And this is perfect planting weather for them.  Hopefully the pinks will be there by this weekend.  Call first if that’s what you want.

Here is what you will find at the bakery and farm store this week:

The ducks have decided that since we are struggling to learn the duck language, they may as well try to learn ours.  It might be faster.  For example, one hot summer day we tossed some bolted lettuce over the garden fence on which the Scarlet Runner Beans were growing.  The ducks beat the chickens to it and whuffled down the best and most tender leaves.  The chickens had to make do with the tough leaves and stems.  But they did and all was well.

However the ducks quickly figured out that if they hung out there when we were working in the big garden they could get our attention with quacks and grunts and we would finally pull up another old lettuce plant and toss it to them.  It was watching them gobble on the lettuce that we began to hear what we think may be their first English language efforts.  In spite of talking with their mouths full, we distinctly heard several say “Thank you”.  O.K.  Maybe some of their consonants were a bit soft, but the vowels were sure clear.  And that’s as good as some professional opera singers we’ve heard…all vowels and no consonants.

Now they are getting subtle.  The other night, as we were tucking them in and saying prayers with them, Quackers (the black one who is molting into white feathers) quietly got up, walked to the hanging waterer, and tapped it with her beak.  She looked us in the eye, then tapped it again.  “Empty, Mr. and Mrs. Farmer.  This is empty and the night is long and we will need to wet our whistles for the morning roll call.”  Another stare at us and we had no choice.  The waterer got unhooked, rinsed out, refilled, and rehung.  Soon as she saw us swing into action, Quackers patiently turned around and walked back to her spot, sat down and watched.  She had spoken.  We had understood.

If ever you want to get over being self-conscious, try having a flock of ducks sit and watch you while you work.  They don’t criticize, but they do quietly ask each other questions about the whys and the hows of what you are doing.  “Why doesn’t he hang that a bit higher so we don’t have to squat to drink?”  and “Do you suppose she knows the food feeder is almost empty also or do we need to point it out too?”  and  “Do you think he’ll remember to put vinegar in the water this time?  He forgot the last time.”  You know…all those little questions a good supervisor asks just by raising their eyebrows at you at work.  Only these are ducks.

Now we know there are many of you out there who would argue that ducks don’t have souls and cannot talk and we’re eating too much garlic and it’s making us go anthropomorphic.  But we would challenge you to come visit our flock and spend some time watching and listening.  And you might learn as we have that they prefer the red leafed lettuce to the green.  Kale is at the top of their list and don’t bother sending them broccoli leaves.  And while you watch and listen, you would hear some interesting conversations.

Like most good conversations, they don’t beat a point to death or drill down so far in a discussion that they miss the life giving aquifer that makes for a great dialogue.  And occasionally they will drop a mouthful of grass and hotfoot it off to the nursery or the raspberries or the grapes because one of them suddenly remembered leaving a worm there yesterday.  But even then, they settle in again and if we listen like we would with a child, we can hear many fine stories.

The key is, of course, listening.  Listening without judging, listening without distraction, listening to the heart of the matter.  Perhaps even listening to the rhythms of a different life than ours and discovering it to have great beauty.  The ducks are good at that.  We should be too.  Let’s slow down now and really listen.  Someone out there in your life may need some water.

Happy Hoeing,

Jon and Elaine Stevens, the feeding farmers, Snickers the watching dog, Mystery the listening cat, Ben and his flock of chatty chickens, and the Parson Dudley Brown with his flock of no longer dry ducks, all of whom live joyfully at The Open Gate Farm.

The big day is finally here!  Several of Grandpa Mac’s peonies have been dug and divided and lovingly installed in pots filled with our home made potting mix.  They are ready for new homes.

203 Schust Road, Zilwaukee, Michigan - Where the peonies were first planted in 1943

This picture is of their first home.  These beautiful plants were originally planted in Zilwaukee, Michigan in 1943 by Harold and Henrietta McIntyre in memory of their daughter, Joyce, who had just died from tuberculosis.  She had just graduated with a masters degree from the University of Michigan with honors.  My grandparents wanted to plant a plant which would honor Joyce for a long, long time.  And these have.  For 68 years.

Divisions of the original rootstock came west in the 1960′s and moved from place to place in pots until we finally got our own place here on Camano Island.  For 11 years they have grown in a 60 foot long bed near a row of Grandpa Mac’s rhubarb.  This week we began digging them up and dividing them.  We have potted them up, noting on the tag for each pot how many little buds each one has.  It is ranging from 1 to 7.  And yes, we are planning to replant a lovely long bed of them so the tradition will continue.

We are offering these heirloom rootstocks for $12 to $25, depending on variety and size.  They will each come with a lovely certificate of authenticity and will make a wonderful present for the gardeners in you life.  If you need us to hold on to them until closer to Christmas, we can do that.

So if you, or someone you know, wants a piece of history and would appreciate a plant which can last 150 years, call or come by.  We would be glad to help you have a most wonderful holiday.

The huge pink peonies, boquet ready!

Japonica Peony - striking and long lasting too!

The White Peonies - sweet and gentle, just like Grandma

Dear Friends:

On Wednesday little turkey bread rolls will be wandering around the bakery shop while whiffs of cardamom braided breads may entrance visitors.  So come chew on a gingersnap while you consider how many cinnamon rolls your family needs for breakfast the day after the tryptophan rush.  Cinnamon will be good for anything that ails them, we hear.  Closed Thursday, then come on over Friday for your Challah and other goodies to keep you going through the shopping season ahead.  Or even Saturday!  We’ll be open!

Looks like Brother Timothy is going to take his annual winter break to get ready for the grandchildren’s Christmas, so we have had to hit the pause button on that incredible sourdough bread.  But when we return after the holidays, we’re hoping he will too!

Yes!  We will be back after the holidays, but not before taking a few weeks to recover in a sunny, warm place we’ll tell about later.  The chickens are really looking forward to our house sitter.  She was always generous with the scratch in the mornings and loaned them funds to cover their pinochle losses to the ducks.  Can’t ask for a better friend than that!  And Snickers knows she has a nice lap, so he’s getting a pedicure and will be ready for happy evenings in front of the fire while she reads him stories.

But until then…look for all this and get ready now!  Lots of changes…and more to come!  Like peony plants from our wall of glory that will be ready Saturday!

The soil was warm last week, almost 80 degrees according to our soil thermometer.  And that is warm enough for planting seeds.  As you may recall, seeds prefer a temperature of 60 degrees or so to germinate.  The little plant that lives inside each seed wants to make sure it’s toes and nose will be warm and comfy before sticking them outside the hard shell that surrounds it.  And so it was.  In our hotbed anyhow.

We had cleaned out the hotbed, moving the now well-rotted cow manure from last season to one of the growing beds in the main garden where we’ve been installing black currant bushes.  Then, filling the box with fresh manure from our friendly dairy up the road, we lowered the glass lid and waited a couple days.  Once the microbes had gone to work and heated it up a bit, we lifted the lid and got busy.

Smoothing the top of the soil and pressing the edge of a board in to create a groove, we took lettuce and Orach seeds gathered from our own plants this fall and sowed rows and rows and rows of hope.  We set each seed in place and then covered every row with worm castings from the compost barrel out by the hoop house.  Watering them in with a gentle rain from the hose, we lowered the lid again and now we wait and hope.

“Hope” really is the operant word here.  It starts with work, as all hope does.  The work this time was clearing out the old and bringing in the new “soil”.  Then patiently waiting until the temperature was stable before leveling the ground.  Hope grows best on level ground it seems.   What are minor bumps and ridges to us become mountains and valleys for little plants and can shade them from the life giving sun.  Then the place for hope to grow is formed and the seeds are gently and carefully planted.

We hope those seeds will grow, that they will find the warmth created by the microbes as they rot the fresh manure will be enough to have hope themselves.  Enough hope to shatter the shell and stick their root down to the food beneath their feet and their stem up to the colors of the dawns and sunsets we so enjoy here.  We hope there is enough sunlight for good growth and someday a harvest.  And we know that when that head of lettuce hits your tables, you will be hoping too, that your families will gather around and enjoy the bounty of this earth and our efforts.

We see hope in places other than just in the hotbeds here at the farm.  We see it in the lives of those who come by.  It seems everyone is planting seeds of hope in their lives and the lives of those around them.  We hear stories of how folks are cleaning out the old and bringing in the new, of how they are preparing the soil of their lives and sowing seeds of reconciliation, of new dreams, of holiday gatherings, of faith, of peaceful days, of charity and caring.  It is wonderful what can happen when we set up our lives like a hotbed and start planting seeds of hope.  They can grow and really can change the world, one life at a time.

Well, all of us here at The Open Gate Farm are hoping that as you head into this season of preparation, your hopes for it are realized and the lettuce in your lives grows nicely and is more than you ever hoped for.

Happy Hoeing,
Jon and Elaine Stevens, the hopeful farmers, Snickers the hopeful dog, Mystery, the quiet cat, Ben and his flock of corn crunching chickens, and the good Parson Dudley Brown and his flock of not so seedy ducks, all of whom live joyfully at The Open Gate Farm.

Cardamom with red "craisins"! My, oh my! We're ready for Thanksgiving now!

Braided cardamom bread, ready to crown your feast!

Dear Friends:

This is soup weather and good soup needs good bread, so swing in here and we’ll come out and help you get some wholesome, organic, charming, and tasty breads.  Wednesday is Italian, Thursday oatmeal / molasses, Friday Challah and cardamom, Saturday whole wheat and olive cheese boats.  Walnut shortbread cookies are on the cookie plate and wild blackberries stud the scones to perfection.

The lettuce is smaller now it’s winter, so we’re dropping the price on it to $2.00 each. Here’s the list though, for those who like to know all we have.

A farm is full of lessons for life.  They pop up all over the place then grow on you until you take them in and give them a permanent home in your heart.  The latest has been in our lettuce patch.

We save our own seeds for several of our favorite lettuces.  Oscarde is one of those.  This year we let several of those grow tall and handsome and watched as their yellow blossoms covered the tips of the stems.  The bees did their job and after several months we finally got enough dry days in a row we could harvest the seed pods.

That process is simple.  Clip off the ends of the stems, shove them in a paper bag, let that sit in a dry place for a couple weeks, then shove your hands into the bag and rub the stems between your paws.  Give the bag a shake, throw out the stems, pour the residue in a low bowl and take it outside.  Careful blowing over the seeds will push the chaff and stems out, leaving an amazing number of seeds.  Realistically, we suspect in the neighborhood of 5,000 per plant.  We store those in envelopes on a shelf in the farm office and are ready for 10 years of planting.  Actually, the seeds stay viable for at least 3 years we have found so far.

But we didn’t get them all.  When we went to harvest the seeds, we discovered all around the base of the mother plant little lettuces, growing happily like chicks around a mother hen.  Hundreds of them.  And after a couple of cold weeks they were twice as big.  So being curious farmers, we transplanted them last week to see if they were serious about growing in November.  We put them in the beds between the newly planted black currant bushes and watered them in.  So far, so good.  We have blankets ready if the temperature drops into the low 20’s, but for now they’re all happy.

Seeds don’t all ripen at the same time.  Just like dreams.  Some come early and drop around our feet and suddenly we’re surrounded by children underfoot.  It’s a lovely life, though the competition for space may stunt them a bit until they get transplanted by college or marriage.  Some seeds ripen later in life and those dreams may find themselves in faraway places, growing into useful plants where they never thought they’d be.  Who’d have thought a boy from Ohio and a girl from California would marry and live in Washington?  Certainly not our parents!  But that is perhaps one of the jobs of children, to go beyond the dreams of their parents, to explore new places and ways to live.

It’s always a jolt to the parents to see what and where their kids become and do. When all that happens, it’s best to let them go.   With a modest amount of luck, the kids will send tickets home for the folks to come visit and see the new frontier.  But they can’t send you tickets until they’ve left.  And when they do and you go visit, you may find them with little sprouts of their own who one day will surprise them with even grander visions and wilder frontiers of their own.

It’s a wonderful life and full of lessons, this farming one.  And the amazing thing is that actually when we look closely at life, everyone is a farmer one way or another.  Right now everyone has little plants growing around them, plants which may need transplanting to become all they should be.  And when we move them and then stand back, their dreams can become real and beautiful and useful to the world as they stretch out their leaves to soak in the sun.  Look around you.  There surely are small things, whether dreams or lettuce or children, waiting for the care they need to grow properly.  Be ready to move them on to a new home and water them in if needed.  And when you do, you’ll be a farmer too.

Happy Hoeing,

Jon and Elaine, the seedy farmers; Snickers, the seed catching dog;  Mystery, the seed dreaming cat;  Ben and his flock of seed eating hens;  and the good Parson Dudley Brown and his flock of seed whuffling ducks, all of whom live joyfully at The Open Gate Farm.

Ready with a question...

Dear Friends:

The bakery at The Open Gate Farm is alive and well and open until Christmas!  Special orders are welcome too.  Now with a case to protect the breads and goodies from rain and wind and dust and dirt, we are seeing much happier customers heading home with white bags full of great food.  And our recipes are not set in cement!  The scones are now soft and moist inside.  New breads pop up and sell to the early risers among you…cardamom, focaccia, Kalamata bowls…and more in the wings!

Last night’s frost is melting off the lettuce and it appears to have survived it well.  Though kale is not on our A-boards at the intersections, we do have some and it’s getting really sweet with this colder weather.  And if you need a green onion, don’t buy a bunch.  Pick up one of our big boys and discover that big can still be tender and crunchy clear to the top!

Yes, the produce stand is alive and well too, just like the bakery.  With apples and an occasional box of raspberries on it, you will be pleased with your visit here.  We’re still giving farm tours and teaching classes and doing all the things that keep the farm sustainable and full of life.  So come on by this week.  Your family will be glad that you really do know your farmer!  Here’s what you can take home to prove it…

Occasionally we go out on the deck for an armful of wood for the stove only to be met by a handful of chickens with a question.  Hard questions.   It happened again yesterday.  They were all gathered by the back door wondering what the heck the cat, Mystery, does around here to support her food habit.  They know everyone here has a job and hers, they said, appears only to be to soak up the sun when it shines.  They were thinking she should be fired and her cat food distributed to them.  After all, they do a lot around here they reminded us.  They eat bugs and worms and lay an occasional egg and help dig when we’re working in the garden.  The cat though?  Yard art as far as they could tell.

We explained to them that she actually has several jobs they can’t see.  She hangs out in the garage, keeping rats and mice at bay so they don’t get into our food cupboards.  She goes under the deck and patrols to make sure there are no rodents rustling around under there.  Then when one of us is under the weather and lays on the couch covered with blankets, she climbs up on our chest and falls asleep, purring refrains from old cat songs known to bring healing to humans.  We don’t get ill often, but when we do, it’s nice to have a cat on the lap to purr us back to health.

We all need a cat in our lives it seems.  Someone to keep our homes safe from small intrusions and bring us, ahem, chicken soup when we’re under the weather.  This is the season when the storms of winter can create a passing sniffle or sneeze or troubled tummy.  Our bodies get weakened by not being outside working in the fresh air and so mischievous microbes march on in and boom!  We are whuffling and blowing and out of sorts with the world.

It’s a fact too that the holiday season which launched this week with Halloween is stressful for many.   And stress is another word for a life out of synch, a heart filled with fear, a mind burdened with sorting the bitter from the sweet, and our hopes for happiness seem only a faint glow on the horizon.  It’s no surprise that stress can make us hit the couch as well.  It weakens us.  Some folks claim to work better under stress, but it’s only because they never learned how to work for the right reasons.  And they never learned to listen and understand the ancient songs of the cats and dogs who will come alongside them in their time of trouble and sing them back to health.

The chickens are now waiting.  They are waiting for one of them to catch a cold and see if this cat song thing really works.  Who knows?  It might!

Happy Hoeing,

Jon and Elaine, the stressed out farmers, Snickers the stress free dog, Mystery the singing cat, Ben and his flock of curious hens and the Parson Dudley Brown and his flock of healthy ducks, all of whom live joyfully at The Open Gate Farm.

Better than good! Fresh focaccia bread is warm and ready!

Come on by as soon as you can!  The rosemary focaccia bread is ready for your sandwich making or just to eat out of hand.  Crunchy, tasty, real nose candy…this is some of the best bread we have made to date.  We’ll try to have some up there in the bakery every day, but we’ll see how oven capacity goes.  But it is there today!