The Hickories: Newsletter

Hello all,

It has been a busy spring and with the first day of summer upon us, I am eager to get the word out about all that is happening here on the farm. Before the regular news, though, I want to announce that Rob Kelly, my fellow farmer, has moved on to new adventures and will not be running the farm this year with me.  Without him, as many of you know, this farm never would have happened.  And now that he is changing gears and starting down a new path, I can't wait to hear news of what great project he will tackle.  He remains connected to The Hickories still: my 'mid-afternoon blunder who do I call'-call, my 'I can't get this thing to turn on'-call.  So don't worry, he's never far. He is cheering us on, as we are cheering him on.

Now to our news:

Hello again, 

I have found myself in the "pick myself up and dust myself off" mode lately. We have hauled ourselves through our usually ambitious winter shake-down of clean up, construction projects, revamps, and rejiggers of the farm's infrastructure. A dusty and greasy old barn bay has yielded to a bright and lovely (and sort of heated… gasp!) new farm office. My beloved desk of five years, a board propped up on two beehives, was retired. The epic mess in the "side-barn" has been sorted and swept and is ready for another season's abuses. Tractors and harvest records and been combed over and our slate has been cleared for a new season. Everything changes, and with those changes we learn and grow up.

Dear All,

As mythical Persephone packs her bags, the farm is getting ready for another New England quiet season. But with all the hubbub around the fields and barns, it is apparent the autumn task list remains long. Things are far from quiet now. We are plowing under summer crops, seeding winter cold frames and cover crops, and repairing fencing. The highlight of the month, our Hayride and Harvest weekends start in a few days: the pumpkin patch is ready, the haywagon is greased and hitched, and the pigs, turkeys, and chickens are rehearsing like mad.

Dear All,

The barn swallows at The Hickories gathered for one final party before beginning their long migration to the warmer climes of South America. It is a journey for which they have prepared all summer, each flying up to 600 miles per day in search of insects, their only food source. For us farmers, their departure seems an appropriate time to peek over our shoulders at the months gone by, as well as prepare for those to come.

In a season marked by wildly unpredictable weather, devastating tomato blight, and frightening soil erosion, there is comfort in observing the patterns of the farm that have continued undisrupted. The swallows still fly south, the squirrels still hoard their acorns and hickory nuts, the pasture grasses still grow long, undeterred by mowing. Nature quickly shakes off a sucker punch the likes of this season, and in doing so, teaches us how we might do the same.