Dear Family and Friends,

Our 2007 summer season ends as crazily as it began. It's been hot and humid and dry for weeks. Nevertheless, tomatoes were ripening faster than we could harvest them. People would be waiting for me at the Glasgow market, looking for those big, delicious tomatoes. They could not believe they could get to such a size without irrigation. (We don't have an adequate water source to do that. The answer is Paul's care in building up the soil year after year, and the labor-intensive but fruitful processes of mulching and hoeing as the plants mature). We felt so overwhelmed that Paul bought 3 young pigs to consume an apparantly endless supply. Then, literally overnight it stopped. We had a little over an inch of rain. The temperature dropped to the low 40's for several nights. The tomatoes, abundant and green on the vines, stalled. After a few days the daytime temperatures got hot again but nights stayed comfortably cool (for us) in the 50's and 60's. Then the heat and humidity returned with nights dipping only into the 70's. We hoped the warmer nights might get the tomatoes going again... . Now we've had another inch or so of rain and night temperatures are back down into the forties.

Paul took all six spring rams to slaughter two weeks ago, just to relieve stress on the pastures and on hay supplies this winter. He felt he could not wait until spring, when heavier, they would yield more meat. Last Monday he took the last batch (94!) of chickens to the processer. We'll have lots of chickens to sell even after we've filled standing orders. That leaves our racoon-decimated flock of turkeys, 17 of the original 100, for the Thanksgiving harvest. Not what we had in mind last spring as we so carefully kept them warm in the brooder cage. Our whole laying flock, including the handsome Black Australorp rooster have been consumed by the ravenous critters.

Even so, preparations for the Fall season are well underway. Greens: arugula, kale, tatsoi, collards, and a variety of lettuces have been set. Garlic has been planted. Cover crops of wheat and oats have been sown to overwinter in other beds. Ristras (colorful strings of hot peppers) and corn-husk dolls have been appearing as downtime projects.

And always, life is never without awe. For some reason the striped monarch caterpillars decided to attach their chrysalises to the doorways and on the walls outside the farm kitchen. They defoliated the milkweed plants along the creek and, apparantly, walked over to the kitchen. One even decided to put hers on the rim of Sasha's straw hat. He went without it for weeks to give the butterfly time to emerge. What an amazing process to observe at such close hand. Luckily we had a wonderful book, a Christmas gift from my sister Alice, that helped explain the whole process. It tells the story of Danaeus, who emerges from a chrysalis in a field in Massachusetts, and of her journey all the way to the mountains of Mexico. Madeline has been running about with flapping arms telling us she is Danaeus.

(It is interesting for me to remember that all spring and into early summer our nights were sweet with the fragrance of milkweed flowers. Apparantly the crazy weather was good for them).

Today I took the final week's produce to our Glasgow market. The basket included lovely, large butternut squash, arugula, tomatoes, basil, garlic, and cucumbers, with an optional choice of as many hot peppers as a shareholder could use. I had intended to make a ristra to demonstrate how pretty they are but never got to it. So I encouraged our shareholders to make their own. I had zinnias in all their colorful glory, vibrant orange Mexican sunflowers, and several long stems of large yellow and dark purple sunflowers mixed with sorghum tassels and rushes. It felt like a stupendous end to a very difficult season. I am so grateful for the steadfastness and imagination and generosity that Paul and Robin bring to their farming practice. Through this very difficult season they were never too busy, or too discouraged, to spend a whole day helping neighbors who found themselves without enough help to plant a crop, or stack their hay, or harvest their corn. At the same time Robin's CRAFT (Collaborative Alliance Farmer Training) workshops throughout the season were a wonderful boon to tired, and at times, discouraged, farmers, their families, and their interns.

For all of this I am truly grateful. Love, Louise