Penny Farm

Garlic (Sm $1, Med $2, Lg $3) Jalapeno Pepper (2 for $1) Rainbow Chard ($3 per bunch) *Kale ($2 - Dino, Red Russian, Siberian, Olympic Red) Radishes ($3) **Hakurei Salad Turnip ($3) Zucchini ($2) Cinnamon Basil ($1 per little bunch) Cilantro ($1 per little bunch) Dill ($1 per little bunch)

*The Dino is firm and earthy and beautifully textured. I like to slice it into ribbons and make a salad or throw it into the frying pan near the end to add some dark green veggie goodness. It's high in iron. It's one of my favourites but be aware that the bugs like it too so it is not pristine.

Both the Reds have a slight bitterness to them but also more antioxidents. Red Russian is juicier than the Olympic Red. They have many uses including juices and smoothies.

The Siberian is crunchy, juicy, and not to bitter. The leaves are as big as my face! I like to eat this raw or use it as a wrap for hummus or soft cheese.

I love these writing prompts by Firefly Creative Writing. Here is my messy beautiful page:

Bear with me, I want to tell you something about happiness.

It’s a wisp, gently brushing against your skin. If you weren’t sitting still, you’d miss it. Take a moment to let it curl around your fingers. Watch it change shape and glow under your gaze. Comb it into strands and weave it into your fabric. It’s always there, waiting in the wings of life’s dramas. Ready to comfort you with gentle memories or come bursting forth in fits of laughter.

Happiness in it’s boldest rendition is full of brass, wild gestures, and pumping blood. It’s a hard run. Towards a crash and shatter of glitter and glass. Raining down, sparkling and refracting the piercing light of the high noon sun. Sweaty bodies painted like rainbows, churning through the thick sound of celebration. You dance until the summer air cools and then you worship the moon as it shines on your cocktail.

And happiness is rejuvenation. Thirsty plants stretching towards the pregnant grey clouds. The breaking of a dense heat as fat water drops splatter on the pavement. The smell as rain strikes the crusty soil and your feet pad quietly on the now lush and mossy ground.

Since returning from my adventure out west I’ve found little inspiration for writing about my daily life. I contemplate various zine-y publications I could create. I plan interviews over coffee, imagine the smell of toner, and picture myself dropping little bundles in downtown businesses. I consider telling other peoples’ stories in my writing, touching hearts and minds…but I do not.

I’m back in Stratford and people keep asking me if I’m leaving again. I’m struggling to hold on to the less tangible parts of my BC experience: how people’s eyes danced, food made with love, the smell of the farm store, first light peeking over the mountain, all the things I’m forgetting to remember. I don’t want to let them go. I’m eating too much bread. Even though it’s safely free from gluten, it still hurts my tummy, zaps my energy, and clouds my thinking. I live one long, doughy dream.

In the daytime I work at Revel, a local, fair-trade coffee shop. Though a new iteration now, Revel was one of the first places I landed in Stratford. Our regulars are lovely, the coffee is potent and bright on the pallet. Big windows in the front of the shop look out over the market square and I imagine it as pedestrian space where couples can walk hand in hand exploring shops and galleries or relax on a spacious patio. As it stands, it is a large parking lot with a fry truck and bus terminal but there is much talk about what it could be someday.

The job itself alternates between two extreme paces - sometimes I’m the flash and sometimes I’m wiping an already clean counter. I serve people who are out doing things to advance their careers, consulting one another, making business deals, building websites, learning lines, designing costumes. I’m content for now to watch busy people, knowing that I can go home and relax in reflective solitude. Soon enough I’ll grab onto a new project that will whip me around at a startling rate.

At home I am pulling dusty things off shelves and out of dark corners, waking them up, negotiating my relationship with them, packing them in boxes, or finding a new life for them somewhere else. Trash bags and bins of discarded paper line the curb outside the house. It’s astounding how quickly things accumulate and how rapidly they lose their relevance. It’s a bit of archeology mixed with a thorough pedicure - discovery and the shedding of dead skin.

I think about my new home and dream about the garden I will build. Sage, mint, chamomile. Sunflowers, poppies, merigolds. Lilacs, willows, bamboo. Fruit, vegetables, herbs, and tea. A place to sit while the sun filters in through tree branches and tender young leaves. An earth oven and firepit to keep us warm and well fed. A place where friends will gather.

Life is the same but different. Kelsie and I are still madly in love. My cats are their usual selves. The streets are lined with the same houses. The avon river is still full of birds.

Hi All,

I was journalling the other night and thought about how important music has been for me this season, how it helps me to connect more deeply and to remember the emotions of specific times in my life. Songs are little time capsules that bring back vivid emotions you thought had faded long ago.

In no particular order:

alt-J - An Awesome Wave (most listened to during early morning harvest, waiting for the sun to peek over the mountain)

The Himalayan Bear - Attacks the Brilliant Air (another early morning harvest album that seemed to suspend time and open my eyes to the beauty around me)

Paul Simon - Graceland (a timeless album that reveales something new at each listen - most listened to while washing veggies)

Broken Wing Routine (an old-time folky band - most listened to while getting through tough jobs like strawberry picking and while driving the Malahat to the Victoria Public Market)

Shred Kelly - Sing to the Night (the best for rocking out at Island Folk Fest, jumping up and down in my room, hangin’ with friends and generally having a great time)

Special Mentions:

The Pack AD Tom Waits Bjork - Post Beruit - Rip Tide Martha Wainwright - self titled Nick Drake The Wilderness of Manitoba Chances With Wolves Kelsie’s Summer Mix Eric Bibb and Michael Jerome Brown Frankie Foo Kid Kotawich The Chicago Stompers Lucid AfterLife Shakey Graves Fiver Little Joy Meatdraw Ben Ziakin Beck - Sea Change Songza - Sunset Soundtrack Marimba (so much marimba!) French CBC The trees, the songbirds, and the frogs

And for quieter times some summer reading:

Last week was a comedy of errors. Two dead chickens, a withered tray of lettuce seedings, driving into the gate with the tractor, rotivating in the wrong gear. One night while cooking dinner I burned the quinoa, cut through my fingernail, spilled the entire salt cellar all over the counter and into my tea, and actually ripped the oven door off while attempting to “fix” it. I’ve had a number of awkward social interactions and beat myself up a lot with thoughts of who I’d like to be instead of appreciating who I am. A combination of tiredness, another incoming life overhaul, my damn period, and a cold has contributed to this knotted up week. Can I get a massage?

I have three weeks of work left and then I’m off to visit family in the Kootneys and Calgary before driving back to Ontario with Kelsie’s Mom. I’m counting lasts: last week on animal chores, last week at the market, last time I’ll see certain friends, last time I’ll smell the ocean from Cowichan Bay. I’m looking back over the past months with a strong love for the people I’ve met and the memories that we’ve made. Some people I’m not ready to say goodbye to but maybe I’d never be ready.

Last month I got a visit from Kelsie! We visited all the Duncan spots including the market and the Duncan Garage. We hiked Mount Tzouhalem and gazed out at the land, tracing the Cowichan River with our eyes, watching raindrops sparkle on the tops of leaves as mist evaporated into low hanging clouds.

We hopped on the ferry in Crofton and watched the seals play as we headed for Salt Spring Island for a short visit to Salt Spring Island Cheese Company who make the most delicate and beautiful chevre in exsitence. From there we headed to Mayne Island where we enjoyed three days in a cabin in the woods. We hiked one side of the Island checking out little shops, parks, gardens, and beaches. We also watched Star Wars: A New Hope and a bunch of hillarious 30 Rock. It was much needed down time and delightful to spend some time together.

On the way home we stopped again at Salt Spring Cheese and then toured the local brewery, cidery, and a few vinyards with friends Josh and Daniel. Priorities right? We were graciously hosted and had a splendid time enjoying good food and good company.

We enjoyed a 20km walk through the Cowichan Valley, from Providence to Cowichan Bay where we visited the educational centre and got to interact with marine life and learn about the ecosystem. We had delicious tacos and ice cream before we were whisked away to The Happy Goat for a visit - green pastures and literal happy goats. From there we walked into Duncan to meet up with friends where we chatted over drinks about food and justice before heading out to Victoria to meet up for sushi with an old friend of Kelsie’s and a new friend of mine. It was so great to be together with the love of my life, my anchor in stormy weather and my sunshine after the storm.

Other recent highlights include catching an intimate and soulful show at the Duncan Showroom with Morijah and Ben, a fast friend who made time for me when I was missing friends and family the most. Eric Bibb played with Michael Jerome Brown - opposites in demeanor, Eric flashing electric smiles and stomping out a beat, Michael tuning with his ear to the instrument lacing delicate accompaniments with a twelve string, mandolin, or harmonica, rarely looking out into the crowd.

Visiting the unparalleled 8 ½ Acres farm. People who are on fire for life, practicing permaculture and no till methods, broadcasting seeds into my heart. They have a great humanure set up, a solar shower, they use little plastic and little petrol. The interns and I marveled at their ingenious design skills and use of space - tiny house, communal kitchen, apothecary, and beautiful bath house. We went for a farm tour and stayed for a delicious meal accompanied by fabulous conversation, vinyl records, and a toasty wood fire. There were flowers everywhere as these bread baking, medicine making, veggie growers shared a slice of life and a slice of pie.

Moonfest and a Vancouver band called Lucid AfterLife. Highly entertaining shows and incredible energy that just builds until you feel that if you don’t dance, headbang, and smash into your friends that your chest will explode your body into a million pieces. They also happen to be really funny and kind guys that I could hang out with for days.

Watching the Ghandi film with my fellow farmers and becoming totally inspired about the work of EPIC and The Local Community Food Centre. Ghandi worked to unify and provoke reactions on problems of injustice. My fellow intern Morijah, a strength bringing beauty, called organic farming active resistance and it is, a quiet revolution full of passionate and driven people. People who care about the health of people and the panet, a holistic and all encompasing drive toward something better.

Learning about spirituality and digging through some of my own layers. Sitting still, watching the moon rise over the mountain while looking over the fertile fields full of veggies and the hard work of passionate people. Breathing in pain and suffering and breathing out compassion and healing. Finding the light inside of myself and using it to warm those around me.

Visiting the Cowichan weavers and spinners showcase with Wendy, one of the amazing staff at Providence Farm. I admired some extremely skilled craftsmanship and delightful fibres. I also met an exceptional woman who demonstrated Kumihimo braiding in fabulous detail.

The interruption of my internet connection caused a refreshing disconnect from social media. It also created a rather long period of time where I didn’t post any updates. I’m certainly not going to do justice to the beauty and excitement of every place I’ve stopped to admire on the growing path snaking out behind me but I can show you a flash or two and hope it conveys at least a fraction of what I’m experiencing here.

Without a particular moment to swivel on or a series of things I could name, I fell, like a wooden puzzle pice into my place in this community. Saturday’s are the only day I usually leave the farm. This week I enchanted myself with books at the rare and used book store, crunching into a sweet little apple tossed to me by the shop keeper, “Hey Stratford” he said with a moustached smile and a flick of his wrist. I caught it one handed and paired my first bite with the smells of paper, dust, and glue and that fluttery sensation you get in your stomach when you’re about to witness magic.

I managed to pull myself away from the book store after a customer started discussing chem trails at an alarming volume. The disturbance disapated the thick cloud of literary voices who spoke silently but all at once and rather made the place echo like it was empty. I headed down to the market where I greeted friends and then toured around to my favourite vendor stalls to kick tires and buy treats - coloured carrots, heirloom tomatoes, and two bottles of wine made it into my bag this time around. I also enjoyed a hot tea and gluten free pastry. On the ride home I headed to the Community Farm Store - a large shop that sells organic and fairly traded products. It’s full of hippie Island magic and the staff there always seem to make me smile. I made it home with my bike loaded down with goodness and my heart brimming with joy.

My biggest struggle here has been the amount of time that I spend alone. I do love spending hours filling myself back up after pouring my energy out into the world and there are many things I enjoy in peaceful solitude but now more that ever in my life I realize that I need to be surrounded by loving and supportive people. It’s not because I need validation or because I don't love myself, but because that’s what makes my heart pump with strength and purpose. At a time of new beginnings, it’s incredible to have people create space for me in their community.

As for being alone, harvesing and weeding for hours can be either meditative or dangerous and crossing from one arena to the other often goes un-noticed until you’re kneeding an idea into a hard ball of dough that will never rise, or picking at it like a raw little scab. I have a pocket full of tricks to change gears, my favourite being the “infinite possibilities” switch that expands the mind rapidly until whatever I was examining seems small in comparison. Like casting out a net, it always brings in something fresh to nibble on.

I’ll often listen to music and feel emotions dancing, swelling, and pushing on the soft spots inside my body. I take the time to smell the air, to feel the sun and breeze on my skin and in my hair. I take off my shoes and feel the earth pulling me into it, transferring life to me through the bottoms of my feet. Dragonflies, birds, flowers on a breeze. The sacred in farming lies in the vegetable field.

The last two weeks have intensified. The heat is overbearing, the days feel longer and heavier, we’re sticking one another with the brambly bits of our personalities. This morning when I stepped out the door of my cabin, the world looked orange and hazy. The sun was a small blazing dot pressed into the top of the smouldering sky. I feel lonely and lost, derailed from my path, climbing out of the rubble to start down a new and uncertain path. Transition is hard and my identity and purpose remain wrapped up in relationships back in Ontario, on the other end of that long train ride to the coast.

Despite my feelings of loneliness and loss, I am still experiencing some incredible things.

There is no better place to take a dip than a fresh and flowing river on Vancouver Island. Many of the friends I’ve made are people of the earth, rich dirt on their soles and vibrant vitality in their souls. Friends who were then two weeks from childbirth, took me to a beautiful spot on the Chemainus River where the deep clear pools housed large freshwater fish and smooth rocks made perfect hiding spots for crayfish. They stripped off their clothes and swam like mermaids in the cool water. One week later they did the same at “nudie pool” on the Cowichan River. They had their baby on July 2nd, one hour past midnight.

Wedding season at Providence Farm has started and we expect to be hosting a party in our front yard every weekend until September. For the frist one, I had sunstroke and called a friend to get me off the property. We enjoyed porch sitting at his house overlooking Cowichan Bay, the only local place I’ve been where I can smell the sea. The longhouse on the road to his place is alive with drumming and singing on Saturday nights and we were sure to roll down the windows as we passed by. There was another wedding last night and they had hired a band so my friend Hannah and I joined them on the dance floor for a while. I wonder what kind of party next weekend will bring and whether I will have to escape.

I volunteered at the market again this weekend. We had piles of things to sell, much of which I seeded and transplanted myself. What a joy to be part of the whole process of producing food. We had huge stacks of radishes shining like large gemstones - everyone commented on their size. We sampled hakurai turnips changing people’s conception of what is widely viewed as a bitter little vegetable. Garlic scapes snaked their way around the table, in small bunches and large paper bags. Pints of blueberries and raspberries lined the front of the table as sticky fingered children tried to sample without getting caught. The first cut of new salad greens, bunches of kale, and huge bok choi, a variety called joi choi, made up the bulk of our offerings and painted the table with plenty of lush greenery. Organic free range chickens and dozens of eggs topped off our selection. Solo bluegrass plucked out on banjo and guitar tickled our ears and we tried not to think about the heat.

Corrospondance and news from home is keeping me connected and lifting my spirits. The Red Rabbit is almost ready to open and while I’m sad I can’t be there to celebrate, I’m excited for them to tap that first keg, crack that first bottle, and pour passion and ingenuity into the dishes that will soon be hitting the tables. Not playing roller derby this season has been incredibly dificult for me and I often consider the difficulty of two time intensive seasons - derby and farming - coinciding so perfectly. I’m accustomed to having a plan, to being pointed quite definitively in a direction. This move out west has been a difficult way of aquiring perspective but I’m willing to concede to the warm salty tracks that occasionally streak my face in order to end up where I’m destined to be.

There is so much to tell about Providence Farm and my experience here that I will never be able to capture it all.

We’ve made a few exciting strides in the past few weeks. We trained the cattle to respect the electric fence and were able to get them accross the farm and to the front pasture with only a few minor mishaps.

We’ve been harvesting snap peas and strawberries that fly off the market table.

The irrigation to the lower field is nearly working properly and only occasionally blowing valves off from too much pressure, or kinking up on corners that were taken to sharply, or being chewed through by rats or the one year old steer (we’re still not sure who did it).

We’ve transplanted the cramped up plants, some over a month in their cells, into the lower field and filled about two acres with what will soon be delicious fruits and vegetables.

The two cold frames are cleared of plants, weeded and rotivated. The big one has a fresh layer of compost and the little one will get some this week.

We’ve had broiler hens for two weeks now. They started as chirpy little puff balls that fit in the palm of your hand and have now reached the awekward teenage phase where they become self-aware and get all scragley looking. They will be ready to eat in six weeks.

Lots of things have been on my mind including the cost of running a farm, marginal profits, balancing the unending list of things to do, dealing with emergencies that take hours to fix and derail your whole week, the diversity of skills from small engines to plumbing to electrical to water systems to land stewardship to I could go on that one needs to run a farm effectively. There are a lot of challenges to small scale bio-dynamic farming and they have only begun to come to light.

Other things on my mind have been my improving health. My fingernails are hard and smooth, my skin is glowing, I have no signs of stress or anxiety, the air is fresh and fragrant, the colours are inumerable, the birds are still singing in the dawn and the dusk.

The team I am working with is odd and diverse, a bit of a rag tag group that is beginning to functiion like a living organism. It’s very interesting to get to know new people in such an oddly intimate way. We’re overlapping and growing into one another.

My garden is skyrocketing. I have beans that grew a foot in one day. I’m so looking forward to my watermellon radishes, even if I didn’t particularly like radishes before I came to the farm.

The other thing I’ve really come to understand is that there is nothing better than sharing a farm meal. We are planning to have more people over to eat with us. I would also like to venture further out onto the Island. There is so much here and I’m excited to be sampling it in little bites each weekend. Today, myself, my fellow intern Andrew, and two WWOOFers from Switzerland - one of whom I met on the train ride here - had lunch and went for a dip in the Cowichan River before slurping back some watermellon on the beach. The place was called Sandy Pool but it was all rocks except for about four square feet of sand on the shore. I felt misled.

Next week is the solstace and we’re also hosting the Farm Dance Under the Stars. It goes until midnight and there will be tons of dancing and delicious food. I am excited for the party and to celebrate the official start of summer!

Thanks for reading! Much love from Providence!