A Sheep Yarn

Today I am writing about sheep. No, I do not own any sheep. I’m not a farmer or a shepherd. I haven’t even pet a sheep since the local petting farm turned into a shopping center decades ago. What has prompted my sudden interest, at least metaphorically, is a book I just finished reading called sheepish by Catherine Friend (Da Capo Press, 2011). Friend writes about how she got involved with sheep farming and what sheep have helped her to discover about herself and living. It also gives lots of information about the animals, shearing, and working with wool. It’s a fascinating study and as a former city girl (as was Friend) quite a revelation about sustainable farming, yarn, sheep, “middles” and spirit.

My backyard isn’t large enough for sheep nor is it zoned for it but the book reminded me that despite the drastic attrition of farms here during the 80s there are still places reasonably close by that are available to reconnect with our rural heritage. Our township bought and runs the last farm within our borders to preserve, literally, our roots. Last summer we found an organic blueberry farm. For many small farms to survive, though, the price of continuing becomes an admission price for customers for hayrides, corn mazes, petting access to goats, sheep, and cows, and mini-amusements like trains, planes and automobiles for kids to ride. At least it keeps the farms working. Each spring and summer we have several areas where (reasonably) local farmers bring their produce to small, neighborhood farm markets. I like to frequent those markets – it feels good and somehow right.

The book also brought me back to one of my “middles” when I was sewing most of our clothes, knitting, and baking bread. I still have a woolen blanket I knitted to snuggle up with on chilly nights watching TV. It was in the middle of my family’s growing years and very satisfying. I am doing other things now, mostly writing, but I have a fondness for that time of my life and it has led me to where I am now. As Friend so lovingly demonstrates, every day is new with the opportunity to reassess and grow.

For anyone who would like to connect with Catherine Friend (and I hope you will) check out her Farm Tales and Sheepish Stories at http://www.catherinefriend.com/ You’ll learn about farming and persevering in a very personal way. Thanks, Catherine for sharing so much of yourself.

The Garden State

Around this time of year I am really happy to be a resident of New Jersey. We have such incredible produce. New Jersey tomatoes, corn, and blueberries are abundant. Of course there are early asparagus and strawberries, and then lettuce, broccoli, garlic, eggplants, cucumbers, spinach, peaches, apples, cherries, pears, plums, and more. Later come the cranberries and pumpkins. There are lots of pick-your-own farms, some organic, for the freshest produce possible and even more farm markets for the next best thing. And more supermarkets are carrying local produce from farms around the state.

This year we planted tomatoes, three different Jersey varieties, in my side yard. Yesterday I harvested the first one! It was warm in my hand as I gently tugged it off its stem. It felt as if I was holding sunshine. The watermelon vine we planted at the same time is slowly snaking its way around the plot which already seems way too small for it; if it produces viable fruit, next year we will offer its successor more space. We are learning, going back to our roots, so to speak. After all, our house sits on what was once a potato field.

One of the state nicknames is The Garden State, well earned I believe. There are others to reflect different times in the state’s history and development, not always flattering. But then everything is flexible, even states. People change, society shifts, culture moves along. I seem to have as well, from former city girl to harvester of Jersey tomatoes, in my New Jersey garden. Nice.

More historic nicknames for New Jersey: http://www.netstate.com/states/intro/nj_intro.htm