The farm is turning me into a Badass

So, not only do I now know what a miter saw is, I also know how to use one! I'd prolly get one tattooed on my bicep if they weren't so darned big. What I'm trying to say is that the farm has been a very empowering place for me lately, and I've been thinking about this evolution plenty. I believe it's a combination of living a life that is nearly advertising-free, thus being cleansed of my desire for self-improvement product, as well as learning and mastering new skills (usually involving some sort of tool) on an almost daily basis. It's a great combo, I tell ya. No anorexic models are whispering from the pages of magazines or the tube screen about how I need to have a thinner body and thicker hair, and no billboards flaunt the latest car, cell phone, malt beverage. I've rarely felt so good about myself - such great, healthy energy.

The farm's massive, hairy projects are completed, leaving more manageable, day-long projects in their wake. Today I primed and painted the doors to my arena - Jay helped me patch them last week. This building is finally looking loved - the last of the four to get that kind of treatment. I'm settling in with the endless task of food preservation. The apples are nearly ripe, and I'm testing them in the dehydrator (delicious!). Next is apple sauce, fruit leather, apple cider and apple butter. Thanks to my friends Diane McDevitt and Scott Lyons (great idea!) I've been drying roma tomatoes like one crazy mofo. I then marinate them in olive oil and fresh basil from the herb garden for a pizza topping to die for. The tomatoes are taking over, I swear. In fact, if you come to visit during tomato season and don't eat your ration for the day, we'll tie you to a chair, prop your mouth open and toss the cherry, grape and pear varieties in every five seconds. Learn to chew fast. Only the strong will survive.

I've also been mulling the unbelievable outpouring of help, skills, talents in relation to this farm's overhaul over the last year. Jay's family and extended family, many cousins, my family (Gideon's got nothin on my mom and dad in the workhorse department) and wonderful friends (Chris' friends Erick and Kevin are getting an honorary plaque somewhere) have come and stayed and brought their gifts of time, work and ingenious inventions. I have no idea where we'd be without them right now. Behind on the schedule, that's for sure. THANKS, peeps. Really. We owe you one. As soon as you get your farms, we're there for you, man.

I just keep on forgetting to mention the thunderstorms in these blogs. If you have never lived in the midwest, I can't do them justice on this page. One minute you're calmly eating dinner on the deck and the next a mass of black clouds plow in and you can barely stand up and get in to the house the wind is blowing so hard. The drill is this: someone brings in the hammock and anything else that shouldn't get soaked, someone (usually me) runs down to the barn to secure the horses and someone shuts all the windows in the house. You must be able to do this in record time, because you will literally have only a few seconds. Ask Corrie or Julianne about this if you live in Portland because they survived a doozy here. That one (late June) hung around for a sustained 2 1/2 hours, hurling lightening bolts at the pasture and causing a huge ruckus. It killed my electric fence charger - because I swear a bolt hit the barn. The other storm of note happened (of course) when I was there by myself. It was like a sideways tornado blowing in, with a sheet of rain rumbling furiously across the field toward the barn. The lights went out and it got dark as night out there. I was in the middle of a phone conversation when I watched the snake of lightening spear the sky and strike the phone connection dead. By the way, you're NEVER supposed to talk on the phone or take a shower during a storm (guilty ... and guilty). I didn't learn those in my how-to manual growing up in Oregon - sheesh! In late spring here the forecast is always the same: high of 85 and chance of thunderstorms. Good times, high drama.

Alright, I'm fading fast. It's two hours past my bedtime! I'm crossing my fingers for a baby soon!

Love and a sky full of stars to all,

Charis