Twelve Months of Farming
byWhile racking my brain, trying to figure out how to do a succinct wrap-up of such an eventful year, the worst song ever written…
farming
Cool Beans
byOh, the sweet taste of irony in the morning. When I was a kid, my dad turned our backyard into a thriving quarter-acre vegetable…
To market, to market
byThe man was thin, wearing a mask, and old. Seventy-two, I think he told Jenn. He was walking by the gate to Dew Point…
The story in the soil
byLife for most folks during the past six weeks or so of COVID-19 quarantine probably feels like it’s going in slo-mo. Many are reading…
The Good Earth
byAt times the soil seemed bountiful and kindly and again stubborn and unfriendly, but it was always a challenge to man’s cunning. — Charles…
Good Fences
byIt’s not the first question everyone asks us about our farm. It’s the second one. The first is, “What are you going to grow?”…
What comes around
byBrad took me to Dew Point Farm last week to show off the fruits of his labor. They were strewn about our feet in…
Buying the Farm
byIf you read our post last month, buried somewhere beneath all the poetic waxing, you may have figured out that we purchased a piece…
Mr. Bojangles
byIt seemed a little bit like I’d become a sort of urban anthropologist, as I slowly worked to clear this little pocket of land….