Festive aromatic lovelies

I put up some new lavender stuffed items in the store. I'm smitten by the Sweet Dreams with wings-so simple and perfect for bride, baby or any one walking this life who needs a respite. I won't say the "C" word...okay, Christmas is coming! There are plenty of art cards for all occasions too, including Santa times or peaceful wishes you need to send in the coming months.

In the fields and everywhere

It is a gorgeous day and I'm in at 2:30 taking a quick break. I took my phone down into the fields today while I mowed. I have to say you get some pretty cool effects thee days with phones and I rarely carry mine with me except in the car. I am not a texter or iphoner zombie and mainly use it for emergencies. However, I'm playing with Instagram and it is sort of fun. How many ways can a freelance-artist-farmer-writer stay connected? But any way to show photos of Marcella!

We are taking the plunge and mowing down one block of the lavender-the Provence variety which does not do well as a dried bundle but is suited for bud-and we have plenty of bud in the Grosso. We decided we will fence this section and re-plant our struggling fruit trees from the current Donkey Hug area. They are struggling not from neglect, but from the admiration the goats, pigs, sheep and now Aldo give them. My gosh, we have worked so hard to help these trees over the past years. They have been head rubbed by the pygmies, stood up to the wrath of Lucy the 300# pig, survived sheep and goats getting into their fenced cages...and more. This year I sort of let go, and I am finished with trying to grow things in an area that has evolved into a second barnyard for elders. The poor little dears [the trees, that is] will be transplanted and we will hope for new and continued life. I also want a Translucent apple tree for pies, and some filberts too. We decided we would do this so we can let the pigs out there at a certain time of year to eat fruit and nuts.

We're also going to plant some vegetables down there since we have water access. It will be yet more fencing, more work, but it is part of farming- evolving your needs and fields.

I think that is the biggest challenge-and joy-of farming for me. It is always evolving. It is always work, always something new to be challenged by. This year we are also going to get one of the upper fields ready for the sheep, to take pressure off the other fields. We cross pasture, but I need that extra land put to use, and now with Marcella, I feel better about having the flock up there out of my site.

So when I went down to the field to mow, there she was. She shows up out of nowhere. We call her a shape shifter. She followed me back to the barn, but before I even got there, she had somehow managed to place herself between me and the barnyard gang. She is a wonder. I loved how the light was bouncing off the barn on this photo of her, somewhat of a mystic she is.

So now I'm off, back out to the field to till the area where I just mowed, a woman and her tractor...and magical shape shifter. A beautiful day to be a farmer!

Growing grass, losing hair and the shepherdess ages

Our flock of Katahdins are a hair sheep-they do not produce wool and require no sheering. It is always a delight to see their hair come off in late spring, and remember how deeply browned some are, or spotted in places you forget.

Right now the grass is growing faster than it will all year. In our early years we would be out weeding, mowing and breaking our old backs trying to keep up with it in the lavender fields-but I began to realize it was more for appearances. It wasn't hurting the health of the lavender.

Back then, we kept the sheep out of the field all year. But I hate to see grass go to waste. I am much more relaxed about the lavender now, and I prefer to use the grass for food for my sheep, rather than worrying about the plants. The young rams seem to nibble on only certain varieties, and at a certain point, we move the sheep to other fields. In other words, the sheep take precedence. We still harvest our plants in July-September and I sell Grosso bundles wholesale, and make bud out of the rest. The sweat and tears that went into those plants! But many are on their last legs as they are over 10 years old now-old for lavender. Much of the Provence took a beating in the cold winter this year and didn't make it. We toy with ripping out the lower section and planting Filberts, but we always settle back with a glass of wine, and sigh, and life goes on.

A farm is always evolving, flowing around what is working, or not working–and the farmers change too–growing older, and their priorities evolve. I remember meeting people when we first moved here who were then in their late 60's. We were in our 40's, bright eyed with clean nails. I had real clothes then, from city stores. I had ideas. The couple had done it all in the past, had lots of animals, bred sheep, planted fields and forests, and ten....they got tired. Or they got tired of feeling tired about some things, and they couldn't get things done as fast as in their younger days. I think we are just entering that phase of the farm. I look at younger couples now and just try[try] to keep my lips sealed. They will figure it all out for themselves.

I still enjoy being out in the field this time of year. The shoots do produce a lovely scent when you swoosh by them, and different members of the flock come and commune with me, briefly–like Irene, seen below. She is out of one of my favorite departed ewes, but I've never bred her, and won't. I could, there is no medical reason why I couldn't, but I just sense she is not up to the task. She just never really put on weight like I'd like to see, and fights with cocci every spring despite my best preventions and treatments. But I like her and she will stay here until she dies.

So if you come to Pino Pie Day and see fluff on the lavender, you know what it is!

Before Apifera

I have wondered, if I leave Apifera or die, will it cease to exist? This sounds so pompous, but I do realize that it is my energy and ideas that created Apifera, along with those of my side kick, Martyn. Without us two, it would be someone else's property to steward, evolving through their energy.

We are just stewards here. I feel that way about houses, they take on the souls of the keepers. Some keep the house in a warm light, others neglect a structure leaving it wounded and relieved when new tenants show up.

"I hope this one paints my walls a lighter color," it might be thinking.

I know this farm was once a working dairy. I felt a sense of sadness in the entire place, that it didn't have a purpose any more. I could feel the hard work the first owner put into it all. Every time we fixed something or improved something, I would think of those first farmers and how it would make them happy to see the place going back to a use.

The photo here is from our first months at Apifera. It never ceases to inspire me to look at old photos of our arrival. While I sometimes feel like I am moving fast enough, I see how much we have done. There was a very neglected but worthy old barn and fields that hadn't been maintained for many years. Anything you might see now if you come to Pie Day was probably not here-the vegetable area, fencing, paddocks, gardens, arbors, decks, orchard, boundary trees river front trees to name some things. There was a lot of bramble, in fact the current donkey area was almost all bramble and Stella and Iris had an important job, which they did well over the years. There was no chicken coop, no donkeys or sheep, no Misfits, no red horse to ride. There was a lot of debris–a lot of debris–and a lot of cats living in the debris, or being born in it. You might know if you've followed along, I trapped, spayed and neutered over 25 cats that first year or so, and many of them are still with us including Big Tony who now resides in the Big House, and Mama Kitty, still feral but living on the deck with two 10 year old sons. I think we are currently at 10 cats-it's getting sparse!

In a way it is eery to look at this photo. My life then was very different. I was just settling in, reforming my identity with myself and new home, exploding out of city life into a rural area I didn't know. My art career was in total transition going from the known to the unknown. I was making little money and the economy was crashing. We sold our houses right before the crash. We were younger, in our early forties, and we worked into post dusk then. I remember that, how hot it was that first summer, and we didn't have the irrigation from the river yet, so we hauled hoses down to the lavender field to try to get our young field established. The local farmers, actually mainly the ones that weren't farmers but liked do act like farmers, scoffed at our non pesticide ways. One guy said,

"So can you make any money on that lavender?" in a very demeaning way. He's not farming any more. We are.

That winter we had the floods and lost a lot of our young field. But we tried to save it all through a two week period, hand trenching drain areas as we soaked up the rains. It was a mess. But we learned a lot about our land that winter. You see people move into the area and plant stuff, and you know they will learn a lot about their land in that first year. It's just how it works.

We made so many mistakes, some pretty funny-like planting the rows too close together so we couldn't drive our tractor between the rows. Oops. We refused to take out any rows, so for the first few years we hand weeded everything-because we also refused to use weed barrier [thank goodness we didn't] or pesticides. Man, I can remember nights just sitting in the field and sort of crying, I was so tired and felt like I was in a Greek myth, pushing the same boulder up a hill only to have it roll back down. We had 4000 plants back then, by the time I got to the end of a row, which took about 2 hours, I swear the weeds grew back where I first started.

I got smart and put the animals to work. I believe in seeking out an animal's purpose and letting them incorporate that into their life. They are happier with their own skill at work. I have failed Muddy, the younger chocolate lab that way, he has no job except Frisbee which I have little time to really play. Seeing Marcella already starting to work is wonderful, and it reminds me how I've failed Mud a bit. Not Huck, his job is to be an old soul and he did it well from a pup on. So anyway, I first put the donkeys in the lavender as they loved teasel and thistle and it worked great for about a month but they began to eat the fresh buds of the plants. The next season, we discovered that the sheep didn't eat the lavender and they became our main weeders. It cut down on our annual weed around the plant manual labor, and it sure looked pretty too. About four years into it, we realized the young ram lambs like lavender and I now have to time it and put them in at just the right time. We didn't have as much fencing then either and now have much more area to cross pasture our flock-good for them and the fields. I always said if I woke up filthy rich-besides buying some new boots and sharing some of it, I'd save most of it but I'd hire a fence crew to reshape the fences and do all wood corners. I envy a field of professional fencing! But you do your best.

Farming is creative that way–it is a daily puzzle and you have to roll with the punches. One animal gets sick and you might have to change the mix in the barnyard to let him recover properly. You see a fencing issue and have to drop everything to deal with it or suffer the consequences. I like that about my life, it's engaging, manual, fertile, expanding daily. I never lack for something to do, or figure out. It keep me sane, really.

Summer

While we anticipate drier weather after winter rains, summer is my least favorite month.

"What?! You are kidding me, right?" you gasp.

It's true, even in Minnesota or out East, summer was my least favorite time. There are glories to it- warm nights outside with Martyn and the garden, trail rides galore, dry feet of the herd, less paddock maintenance to name a few things.

I think part of it is I am intuned with my surroundings and have always been a highly charged creature who had to learn not to totally mesh into another person or being. Just as the spring brings excitement, growth and blossoms, the summer sees those blossoms yearning for shade, and then even the shade can't keep them from withering and dying. A little bit of me, and you, dies each summer. Skin burns and drops off while we sleep, your hair fades, your pants rip from broken wire fencing - it's all a little bit of death.

But then autumn will come along and I am always, always recharged. I suppose if you stuck with my analogy above, I'm a leaf crumbling into dirt. But I feel more like the plant that made it through a hot summer, my upper part is crispified, but my root stock gets to rest in the cool Earth again.

We are changing the lavender field a bit this year. I only want to grow Grosso and I am tired of the backbreaking weeding, which I can't do anymore in the sun due to my skin. And, I don't want to do it. I've done it nine years now and I never really can keep up with the field, even when we bring in a crew one time a year to help harvest. The thistle is a constant issue, and the sheep will now nibble on certain varieties as they love bindweed. We chose not to put down weed barrier - and I'm so glad - but of course it means weeds in the roots are a constant issue even in the old plants. We knew as farmers someday we'd change that crop, and nobody can tell me weed barrier in a 5 acre field of prime grassland is a good idea - although many local lavender growers in these part do it, and I think rolled their eyes at us hand weeding. You can't till up weed barrier!

It's a good-bye of sorts. We worked ourselves to exhaustion in that field when we first arrived, and for many years ahead. But the lower field varieties have had nine years of life - that is a long life for that plant. We'll still have 1000+ plants of Grosso, so don't cry too much if you are lavender lovers.

I once read an article about farming and I always hang onto this quote: Farmers change crops when they aren't productive. And that's what that lower field has become to me. I need my energy for my animals and art and flock.

And now I prepare my mind for the next days of 95 plus degrees. Shriveling up.

Don't forget

I have lots of Apifera lavender products for sale over at Etsy including the dark purple Hidcote bundles that are wonderful for wreathes, floral sags and arrangements. I also have the aromatic Grosso for sale at Local Harvest  and bud for your craft projects [you can email me if you want to buy anything lavender related or large quantities.]

There is also an art sale going on at Etsy through December.

Elephants warding off moths

Some housekeeping items to post today...


New things popping up on my Etsy store all the time - like Raggedy Elephant Hangings stuffed with Apifera's lavender bud and whimsically sewn by moi, for your closet or linen areas to help ward off moths...and tigers and prowlers of any kind..

I've been making one-of-a-king art pillows incorporating my illustrated fabrics, stuffed with 100% bamboo stuffing and our farm's lavender bud. Each one is sewn all raggedy - you know, I close my eyes and let the wind guide me. They take me forever to make since I sew on scraps of fabric and let it all evolve.

Pino's having a lavender sale!

Hurry on over...oh wait, Pino would not advocate hurrying. Take your time and go donkey style over to Pino's place and buy some lavender bud or bundles - up to 50% off. It's time to make room for this year's harvest.

Falling in with sheep

While I never stop admiring my flock, it is about this time of year, without fail, that I get all sheep conscious. Perhaps it is the spring like weather that flirts with us on these rare January evenings, with a much missed sunset escorting shepherd and flock back to the barn. Or maybe it is the anticipation of lambing, only 6 weeks away, that make my admiration levels for these creatures triple. Their hair coats this time of year are so touchable, curly and soft in ringlets, like a rag sheep puppet one might have had in the 50's, with real hair and not made in China.

I know there was a time when I saw sheep in a field as a child, and admired them, the way they looked like spots on a graceful roll of a hill. I suspect that was just one of the many moments that soaked into my skin long ago, and led me to where I am today. Long live the open eyes and heart of the child. And may all shepherds near and far have healthy lambs this season, and mother ewes full of milk and stamina.

You say calm I say exhausted

It is said that lavender calms and soothes the beholder. With lavender harvest once again in full swing, I'd like to take this moment to squelch that idea. I have lived and worked with lavender, lots of lavender, for 6 years now. After caring for, weeding, cutting and bundling, then hanging, then drying, then taking those bundles and re-bundling them for sale, then boxing them, then taking them out and debudding them, I have to make an admission to you, my readers. I really don't feel calm at all. Or at least, I don't feel any calmer then when I start out in the morning without bundles and bees surrounding me. If anything, I feel angst, because there is so much of it, and like our friend the hay, when the lavender is ready for cutting, one must cut it, or lose the quality of the dried bundle.

Who had the idea of planting lavender, you might ask? Um, that would be me. The sheep sure look pretty walking in it. Maybe they feel calmer, I guess I should consider that. Growing the lavender is possibly calming my sheep, very important come lambing time.

The Dirt Farmer and I were getting ready to go to the field yesterday, and a segment came over NPR on how lavender farms are growing in popularity. They interviewed some woman up in Sequim, the lavender capital of the Northwest, and when asked why she thought there was an upswing in the plant's popularity, she said something to the effect that in our chaotic, fast paced life, lavender is soothing. Perhaps she's smoking it, I don't know.

I guess this isn't a very good advertisement about our product. I'm hoping that people that buy lavender really do feel nice and calm from it. I think the word that comes to my mind, about how lavender makes me feel is...exhausted. I love the plantthough, and there are many days when I'd like to just leave it in the field, and let it live out it's life whole, communing with bees. Maybe next year. Maybe not. An old farmer in the midwest once said to me, "You can always change your crop, farmers do it all the time."

Good smellin' and sweet

My illustrated fabrics are currently only sold by me at my online store. Fabrics are printed at Spoonflower.

I have some new small pillows and sachets made over on the store. I absolutely love the illustrated fabric I've been getting from Spoonflower. So far the quality is great, and they ship very fast. I'm happy with the colors too.

So if you like the Cats & Bees for Peace pillow [don't you love the 1940's era inspired pink fabric? I do.]head on over.

Or maybe you want a sleeping bunny, or a rise and shine bunny like the little pillows below. All are stuffed with our lavender, and sewn with clumsy fingers and erratic foot pedal control by...moi.

Bud bud bud

I have the '08 bud blend on sale over at the store blog. Time to make room for this year's harvest. The '08 blend is a combination of two of our lavender varieties, and is slightly camphor like with a tinge of sweetness. Perfect for all your crafts, sachet makings, soap and more.

"Oh yea, this was my idea."

The fresh cut season is in full swing. Lavender is like any pregnant creature about to give birth - when it's time, it's time, and you can't stand around looking for the overnight bag. The adage, "Make hay while the sun shines" makes much more sense when you live with any crop that needs to be cut and brought out of the field at a certain time for optimum results. We have learned so much about timing in the past five years. When I look back on that first year 's harvest, oh it is funny! We made so many mistakes and just bumbled along like Jethro and Nellie May in Paris. We've learned when to cut for fresh cut, versus when to cut for dried bundles, bud or oil. We learned that the paper clips you buy at Staples are crap. We learned that the bees tell us when to cut. We learned that each season you think you can do it all on your own, but you can't. We learned that the locals think we're nuts. And most importantly, we learned that you should plant your rows after you measure how wide your tractor is so it will fit through the rows.

Many write me about the romance of my life here, and it's true, there is much romance at Apifera, minute to minute. Much of that romance is for my own personal pleasure, and I don't need or care to share it with anyone - it is just my daily life. Some of the romance is construed by the readers of this blog. Like a glossy magazine, they see the pictures and hear the stories with the gentle endings, and they can edit out what they don't care to deal with. They see me at my best, as I can edit my words, appear calm in any storm, wisely guiding myself through life. But behind the scenes of any good movie, there are a few dirty little secrets - like the fact that a couple nights ago after leaving the field I was tired, grumpy, hungry and I had no patience. I yelled at Frankie because she was being a pain in my butt. And I had no time to discuss the beautiful sunset with Guinnias like I often do. I had no energy to brush Boone, and everything seemed like work.

We get the well intentioned offers, "Hey, we'll come out and work in the field with you for an afternoon and then we'll barbeque."....Ah, okay, but you best bring your own chef and wheelchair. Living on a farm with a crop, and livestock, is constant, hard, manual labor. It is not for sissies. It is not for dwaddlers, or pontificators, or wanna-a-be's. But I like it. I like growing a crop, on our land, and improving the crop over seasons. Watching a 1" seedling grow to a 4" wide beast that produces 10 large bundles is....sort of miraculous. It reminds you of the power of nourishment. It reminds you that a tiny seed turns into something. It reminds you that living is a verb, and that earth is a pretty cool realm to be jiving in.

I am a little spring woodland flower, and in the heat, I wilt. My roots shrink and I can't function. So I have to time my work around mornings and evenings. Together with Martyn's efforts, and field helpers we bring in at optimal times, we get the crop off the field. It's a 6 am rise time for Martyn, and often we work until 9 pm. The first year, I remember I had a horrible case of poison oak on both arms and wrists, and I had my arms wrapped in cotton to protect my open sores. It was 80+ degrees. We had no helpers lined up for field work. I remember sitting in the field on my knees at one point, looking out at a sea of lavender, and crying. My dirt farmer lifted me out of my despair by reminding me he had a fresh lamb rack waiting to grill at the house, with a bottle of wine. When I said we'd never get through this, he said we would. When I asked in despair, "Whose idea was this any way, to grow all this lavender?" He gently reminded me, "Yours."

Don't forget...

...that it's Tuesday Sale Day.

The lavender harvest has begun. The dirt farmer and I are working triple time. Details of our field escapes, learning curves, band aid solutions and more to follow this month.

"Pinch me, please."

When I stood back and looked at the studio wall, hanging with floral that I'll use for dried lavender swags, I had a moment. You know, the "Pinch me, I'm pretty happy and lucky" moment. One can have all the money in the world, but I have flowers hanging against a paint spattered wall, creating a natural Pollock Avec Monet...

I am running around a lot, so many pokers in so many fires. The show is in two weeks, working on lavender wholesale items for the market, vegetable garden is in, and planning pie parties. This month I'm devoting as many 2 hour spurts after 6pm to work in the lavender field. It's my favorite time of year out there, the lavender scent is so subtle right now, there are no bugs, and it's cool. My sheep are with me, and when I see Martyn's truck drive up the road about 8 pm, I know a glass of red wine beckons - after I give kisses to all equines, and old goats [Frankie on the other hand refuses kisses].

So forgive me if my posts have seemed 'spurt like", but May is a 'spurt like' time here on the farm. Everything seems to need doing all at once. But scattered throughout all the hustle, there are many 'pinch me' moments.

Sweet Cat Dreams

Oh, I'm quite enamored by these. The cat fabric is my design, and I matched it with a vintage pink Humpty Dumpty pattern, filled it with lavender, and added little pig tails with bells. These happy little sachet pillows are for the nursery, or the whimsical person who likes cat dreamers on the bed.

Love sometimes exists in a pillow

I'm slowly adding items that would make sweet little Valentines gifts over on the store blog.

One can never send enough love out, even if it's in a pillow, or sachet. Don't forget that lavender is known to keep moths away - oddly I had forgotten this fact in my own drawers, and had moths!!! I had not bothered to put any new sachets in my sweater drawer and had holes in items. And I live on a lavender farm! I'm not sure if lavender will kill exisiting moths, so look at sweaters to make sure you don't see any white-web like thingies before putting sachets in the drawer.

After the work is done

We spent most of the day in the lavender field putting up pasture fence. We're experimenting with running the ewes in the field to keep weeds and grass down. I'm paranoid of roaming dogs that appear every so often, usually friendly, but they can run a sheep to a frenzied death. If all works as planned, come spring, the lavender field won't be quite as over grown grass wise, making Martyn's tilling easier - we hope. So stay tuned to see how the grand experiment works. I've let the donks run in there too, as they love thistle, and we are slowly weeding it out. But they get a little playful, running up and down the rows as if it's a special maze we created just for them. Amusing as it is, the plants are tender at a certain stage, and it's too risky for comfort.

And before you call us crazy, animals don't eat lavender, including the deer that frequent the field. They might test a plant here and there, but they stay away from it. There is concern that the initial bud growth come spring might be tempting to young ewes, but, I guess we'll find out. Besides, sheep fertilize the pastures as they eat. It was so pleasant working in the field with them as they tagged along near by. I just love my ewes. I'm always so happy when breeding season is over [as are they] so I can be back with 'the girls'.

The weather was perfect, about 50 degree and sunny. We finished the afternoon chopping wood. As I was coming in, the sky was like a Rubens painting. Unbelievable. Within 15 minutes, it was gone. I took this picture seconds before it disappeared. These short theatrical productions are worth the entry fee of working hard all day in the field.

With the showing of Venus and Jupiter on Wednesday night in the south western sky, I could not help but surmise about the year 2052. For Jupiter and Venus will not line up again like this until then. I'll be 94 years old. Many of you reading will be long gone, and some of you 20 somethings who might not blink about aging will be in your 60's. It was interesting and surreal to think of. Martyn and I talked that night how the night skies and all their history makes a human feel very small. I think it's good to feel small. It reminds you you're not the ruler of any one's world, not even your own. If I'm here in 2052, I hope I can remember that moment, but perhaps it's the fact I could take notice of it in the current times that's most important.

I'm in love with a pillow

I recieved more of my fabric designs back from Spoonflower and they are wonderful. If I can be more explicit....I am now in love with a pillow. Martyn will understand, after all, he knows all about my various love affairs in the barnyard.

I designed one pillow that's sleeping , and another pillow that's wide awake and greets the other pillow in the morning. You will just have to click the link to see it. I think it will make you smile. If it doesn't, you're just a big grump.

The reason I sound nuts is I spent the last week creating the new image archive on my main illustration site and revamping the site . Art directors can now search through 500 images for their re-use needs. It was fun revisiting so many pieces of art...but...I am drained. Computer drained. Dead head. Me no think no more. Is there wine yet?

As I type I am listening to 'Blood on the Tracks'...and singing....really loud. Don't forget to enter the raffle .

Lessons in the field

In which a deer reminds the human that "ill thoughts die and good are born, out in the fields with God..." E.B.Browning

During harvest, one gets wrapped up in it, completely. One has to. But, one is also in charge of their own madness. Yesterday the weather was perfect for my fair skin and slight tinge of weariness from too much wine the night before. During the harvest, we indulge in whatever we need to to sooth our limbs. For example, I had baked an apple pie and took it out of the oven about 5 pm. Instead of waiting for post dinner pie, I thought, heck, I worked my butt off and I shall eat a warm piece of pie before I return to the barn to stand on a ladder to hang bundles for the next 2 hours.

So when I entered the field in the morning, having left Martyn to hang bundles in the barn, I was calculating the harvested amount of lavender in my head. But there in front of me, within 4 feet of the car, stood a yearling. She didn't move and I greeted her out my window. I slowly passed her to my working spot in the field. Being close to any wild animal is an honor, and I took it as a cue to sit for awhile. I sat in the car with my bare arms slightly chilled from the breeze, but warmed as the sun bathed them.

It's a wonderful time of day here. The road is quiet, the roosters from the various properties are crowing. I could hear the young nest of crows on the river. The lavender field is 3 years old in spots so was in full bloom, and the bees were much farther along in there work than I was with mine.

As I began my work, the deer had walked to be on my left, about 15 feet away. She grazed on weeds, as I cut lavender. The wind made a pattern - first you hear the sound, then you feel it, then you hear it again. I worked 30 minutes, then returned to the car to rest a spell. Out the front window, I saw the pasture, full of loved creatures.