HPF/GOE year in review, y'all! 

We put on our boots

and tilled in all our delicious over-wintered cover crops

to feed our most important livestock; soil microbes

starting where we all start, in the soil

little sprouts planted little sprouts

 

big sprouts planted little sprouts

(we found the best ever very first on the payroll employee ever, Emily)

and took time for some kisses in between planting and sprouting and soil-building

and wheel-barrow races 

we watered those little sprouts

Susan and Molly counted 'em (whew!)

and loaded 'em up

and took a little time to pose for an early crew photo

oh these beautiful people, inside and out

and we hosted some fun, fine events

and surprise, found our own dreamy piece of ground across the river in Wisco 

  but went back to work in Minnesnowta because 

well, we had a season of flowers and food to grow,

and then there was that time that the 50 mph gusts of wind blew our sunnies over, and our beautiful farm friends at GOE helped us stake them after their long hard days and we saved 'em

we hosted a field day with the Land Stewardship Project on the hottest day of the whole summer in July 

grow some flowers, we did

our dear friend and helper Amanda came along for another ride of a season 

 we survived, here's proof 

(thanks for these photos Tootie & Dotes)

we said "see ya later, dear farm family"

(thanks for this photo, MOSA)

and packed up our stuff, hit the road

and landed here. 

we wish you and yours the very best of 2016! we'll be in touch very soon about next seasons' flowers! 

Mwah!

J,M+E

Hello dear HPF friends! We're settling in to our new digs. We love our peaceful spot up on the ridge above Plum Creek, and the Eau Galle River. Nugget Lake Park is less than a mile away, a beautiful wooded Pierce County park with endangered Snow Trillium, and ramps in April as far as the eye can see. And, "thars gold in that there crick!" It's called Nugget Lake because thanks to an asteroid hitting the earth thousands of years ago, there has been gold found in the lake. You can still pan for it. Just another reason to come visit us in Wisco. You might just get rich!

Papa and Earl are getting things done around the farm in this late, late fall, and mama is bringing home the bacon. It's a big transition, and we're all doing our best to go slow, love each other up, sleep a lot, eat good fall food, and be present in the shortening days leading to winter. They say that this year's El Nino could be the strongest on record, and historically that means mild winters for Midwesterners. So far that's been true here, and we're grateful for the extra days to get the fields a little bit more ready for spring. It's wet and windy up here on our ridge, and it'll be interesting to see how our clay soil dries out in spring.

It's all so new, and there are so many variables. We were going to put up our greenhouse this fall, but decided to farm this land a year before we do anything semi-permanent. We need to know where the wind blows and the water flows, and what our new soil likes to grow. Mike has been pounding in stakes all week, and screwing in earth anchors, trying to get all the hardware in the ground for caterpillar tunnels to be anchored with PVC pipe, covered with plastic, and filled with flowers in spring.

We bought a new BCS walk behind tractor. It was a big, agonizing purchase, and it's a beauty despite a few weird quirks to begin. The bolts on the wheels weren't tightened in the factory, we guess, and both wheels pret' near fell off in the first few uses. It's humming along now, so we hope those days are behind us. 

Earl gathers soil for a soil test. I love his serious attention to detail. Greyjoy helped.

We have three new sibling rescue kitties, and they're so sweet. We're also dog-sitting Buddy for a few days while his mom, our friend Linda, is in Central America. Along with our thirteen chickens, we have a happy little human and animal family. We've also had lots of visitors and found our new co-op grocery in Menomonie, and the awesome library there, and a place for swimming lessons, etc. We're finding our community here, but mostly just finding each other after our busy year and of course, our new piece of ground. The biggest adjustment has been mama at off-farm work all day and papa and Earl keeping the home fires burning.

I love this photo because of the possibility it holds. As we embark on the week of celebrating giving thanks, and especially in light of the big reminders of the fragility of life on our beautiful, tumultuous globe, we reflect a bit more on all we have to be thankful for this season. Thanks so much for your support during our past season, and for joining us in the new chapter of our farm dream journey! We can't wait to fill this dirt with flowers, flowers and more flowers!

xoxo J,M+E

"The grief is simply proof that you're invested in living & loving.

It's Mike's last day ever at Gardens of Eagan today. He's picking 120 or so boxes of kale. I think they have a big order today before the predicted hard freeze, and most everyone stops working for good. He can pick bunches of kale like a madman, fitting 13 bunches under his arm. I wonder how many harvest crew members he's taught to pick kale? A lot. I saw the quote above by Ann Voskamp on Facebook earlier today and it gave words to the ache in my chest and the lump in my belly.

I keep asking him if he's sad. Just today he said yes, he's feeling a little sad. On Saturday we'll all gather there one last time for a private harvest party. We'll cook-off chili, roast pork shoulders, play farm olympics and have a bonfire. We'll probably reminisce. I kind of don't want to go, because I'm tired and it's too sad. I just want to move on. I'll pull it together and go, of course, because like our friend Susan says, we have to go through it. Together, just like we've gone through so much else.

I've been working on something to say to the crew at the harvest party. I think it'll go like this.

I've been driving a lot and so, thinking a lot. Trying to figure out how to find closure. We weren't really ready for GOE to close its doors this year, and when we found out in April it was shocking. We had some indicators, sure, but still. I keep learning in life that the result of things isn't always what we want. People die too soon, you lose big games that you tried really hard to win, stuff happens to all of us. But what our lives are made of is the sum of our days. What we do each day, the work, the words, the actions towards others, that is what creates our life. And all that we have at the end of things. 

GOE is our birthplace; where Mike and I met, where we had our baby, where we birthed our farm business too. It will always be a special place in our heart. A few years ago I wrote an article about a farm being its farmers. I still believe that's true, but now that I've participated in changing a garbage heap of unhealthy soil into beautiful, thriving, land, I understand better the connection of farmers to the land farmed. 

As we leave this place, this 126 acres, this entity, community, brand, co-op-owned farm that is GOE, to the eye we leave some emptyish buildings and quiet tractors and frozen cover-cropped soil with recent remnants of mowed flowers and cabbage. That's what you can see. But really what matters is not what's left. What really matters is what we carry with us, in our hearts, minds and bodies. We carry the experience, the learning, the health of the good food. It has helped make us. We are changed from what we were before we came here to what we've gained from being here. 

We carry countless heads of healthy beautiful broccoli that's fed our family and yours, and countless drops of sweat as we've planted, cultivated and bedded down these healthy fields. We carry countless learnings, and laughs, and tears, and competitions to pack the fastest box of kale. We carry knowledge of the deep satisfaction of participating in the whole life of our food, from seed to swallow. We carry life-long friendships that have been forged as we've worked as hard as ever next to each other. We carry the wisdom of hard practical work of the earth, and the wisdom of helping each other because we're only as strong as our weakest link. We carry the peace of a bone-tired body and mind at the end of a long, hot summer day. We carry the sweetness of a dirty arm around our shoulder and laughter of a co-worker sharing the unspoken understanding of peace gained from bone-tiring earth work. We carry relationships with courageous folks who value humanity and real work and the earth enough to have made choices that have promoted health and spirit and earth and all the other growth in their lives that matters more than money.

We carry the blessing of work that fills us and teaches us and makes us better.

We know we'll find more. But right now we grieve the loss of this experience because of what it means to us. We grieve the loss of this daily community. We grieve the loss of the stewardship of this piece of ground.

But, "The grief is simply proof that you're invested in living & loving."

Thank you all for your investment. For your work. For your love. You are all welcome on a little 16 acre piece of ground in Wisconsin.

Peace out GOE, you live long in our hearts.

<3 J,M+E

The last time I wrote was to invite you all to an impromptu open house and share my feeling of fragility. Since then, we’ve bought a farm, finished our biggest season ever of flowers and currently I’m thousands of miles in the air flying to Reno! If you had told us in January that all of this would have happened, and I’d be on an airplane by myself on my way to Reno, all by September 21^st, I would have laughed. And felt a little concerned. Why? Am I running away?

I am not. I’m a working mom. I’m traveling for work just like a working mom does. I work for a non-profit, MOSES, that has received, ahem ahem, a very fabulous grant, the USDA Beginning Farmer and Rancher Development Program grant, to service beginning farmers. As the co-project manager, I’m flying to Reno to meet for the week with other super fabulous recipients of the grant to share what we’re going to do, and learn what others are doing. And tour farms and water programs in the desert! Wooo-eee. What a trip.

Still feeling fragile. Just left my farm family that I spend a lot of time with for the longest time ever away. Breathe out. I may or may not have cried just a little bit.

It’s so good for our family that I can do this work. I’m so thankful for this job that is wonderful, meaningful, enjoyable work with great farmers, and conveniently located 11 miles from our dreamy farm. With that, like any transition, it’s hard.

Anyway enough about me. Humble Pie Farm friends, I want everyone to come visit our new farm. Please come visit! It’s so beautiful. We have a lot of work to do to make it a functional flower farm. But just the view is so wonderful. It feels so right for us to be there. It is so peaceful, and the neighbors are nice, and it has so much potential. So far we’ve painted the interior of the house. The house is 85 years old, and hasn’t been lived in for a year and a half at least. It was dusty and musty and needed a few good cleanings. As we’ve stayed there a few weekends, and cleaned like crazy and cooked some good food, it’s begun smelling and feeling like a house that’s lived in and loved. I feel like the house has been waiting for us to come: a farm family that will spend a lot of time between its walls and next to its exterior. We’ll drop our dirty clothes in the mudroom/laundry room (yes, right inside the back door! Yay!), jump in the shower and sit in our kitchen and share good food and stories of the day. Repeat. The ground is covered in hay, and soybeans, and just aching for some good cover cropping and soil building, and perennial planting, and just hands in the dirt. I can feel it. It feels good and right, and that is a huge relief after this crazy summer.

I’d also like to give huge, huge thanks to all our flower buyers this season, the retail stores, our CSA members, Birchwood,  the wedding parties, you all know who you are. As I did our last deliveries last Tuesday, and got hugs and kind words all around, I felt so very thankful for the quality relationships, support and love that come from meaningful, relationship-based business. 

We are so lucky to be your flower farmers. Thank you! Mwah.

I’ll close with these photos taken by our wonderful friend Kari’s mom, Janet. She, and her family came to visit on a rainy turned sunny and hot Sunday a few weeks ago. It was a wonderful time. And I'm so grateful for these beautiful photos that document.

And, I’ll be in touch and keep you up to date on our big adventure. 

Peace out friends, take good care.

J,M+E

"Mama, where will our farm go?" 

Amanda took this photo of me and the stunning lisianthus. 

This blog serves as a means of sharing information, and our farm life, and really as a reflection for me. Lately, I've been really busy, and haven't used it as well as I could. Truth is, I've felt so overwhelmed by the size of all of what's going on that I haven't been able to put it to words. The title is something that my little beloved asks often when we talk about moving. Which isn't that often, but they are perceptive aren't they, and he picks it all up. And rolls with it for the most part. Because they are also oh so resilient. Thank goodness.

Me, not as much.

Everything that's happening right now is for good. The midnights of making bouquets with my other beloved. The waaay too thoughtful car trips back and forth from Spring Valley. The less and less time actively caring for my child and more and more time doing other work I really enjoy. The letting go of the flowers earlier than I'd like for the benefit of our big picture. It's all good. It's also sad. And hard. We love our community. We like known soil and space. It's hard to transition. Hard to let go of what and where we've known for awhile, and embrace our exciting and super awesome new.

I feel fragile. I feel tired. I feel fearful. I also feel excited. And hopeful. It really is a roller coaster of emotion, this process.

So, why not have a short notice party and invite all of you! :) 

Please join us on Saturday, August 22nd between 10am and noon for an Open House, refreshments, Flower You-Pick to your heart's content, Flower Child head wreaths and tours. We really just want to thank you for your support and give you big hugs.

We'd love to see you! Please come! We wish you and yours and wonderful weekend!

J,M+E

Hello, hello! Did you see this on Facebook? Mike took a secret time-lapse of us making bouquets. This was a couple of weeks ago. On Thursday we made 118 bouquets in a little over 3 hours or so. That's a bouquet every minute and 45 seconds or so. That's good. Progress.

I love to race and challenge myself. I think that's why Mike and I get along so well. We both love efficiency. We're gaining efficiency this year. We've made progress just in the last few weeks. This week we had no midnights in the sunflower field with the baby monitor and headlamp. We have a beautiful flower farm, which means we're losing a lot of flowers that we just don't have time to harvest. And that's okay. It has to be, this year.

I started working one day a week in Wisconsin. It's so great. Great people, great work. I'm adjusting to being off the farm for one whole day each week. We're making it work. Looking back on the last few months, I just marvel at what we've accomplished. I'm only saying this because I want to recognize how much of it has been due to the help of others. I'm just a bit stunned. It's been amazing. I just can hardly believe all the help we've received along the way. After the initial shock of needing to transform our life, so many wonderful people have helped us along our new path. At every turn, someone good at and dedicated to their work has helped us. Helped us sell flowers, helped us buy a farm, helped us find a new job, helped us maintain perspective. 

I think we mostly don't get to decide what's going to happen in life. We lay good plans, and prepare, but our best skills and character come from flexibility in challenging situations, and learning that we aren't in control. We're just a part of a big, big picture, and each day given the opportunity to fit in and be grateful, or not and be uncomfortable. I've been, and will continue to be my whole life I suspect, both ways. As I get older it's a relief to feel more comfortable in my own skin. Right now, I'm so so grateful for this huge opportunity to grow, and trust and be patient, and the evidence of that trust from the support of our community.

And, oh my goodness, I'm loving our flowers this year. I just love them. And that feels really good.

Here are some photos from our friend and employee, Amanda. She does have a way capturing beauty.

Thank you as always, for your part in helping our family grow flowers.

xoxo
J,M+E