I Heart Farms

Five

Pictured here: the corn that's as high as an elephant's eye, up at the University of Santa Cruz. Good news about them soon, but today these messages from the blogosphere.

I've got to kill two birds with one stone here, because I've been tagged by Ilva, whose photography at Lucullian Delights is some of the most gorgeous, for a blogging event called "Five Things to Eat Before You Die."

And today is BlogDay 2006, where those of thus doing this for a hobby or for our life's work point you to some good blogs that you might not have seen. 

Onward.

Farms, Ranches, Thoughts

First of all, Cynthia Sandberg at Love Apple Farm would like me to post the hours that her farmstand is open: Mondays and Thursdays, from 9:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m., and Saturdays from 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. (Note: to my knowledge, there is no other market or farmstand open on Mondays in the county.) Here is a map to Love Apple Farm.

So. I had thought I realized how globally unhealthy our corporate food is...but nuances and realizations keep turning up in my thinking.

I was with Logan in the Safeway the other night, buying contact lens solutions. He asked me something like, "What's in this store, Nana?"

Tomatoes Galore

Talk about your good timing. I was up in Ben Lomond yesterday, visiting a farm with one of my stepdaughters (Logan's mother!), and took her to Love Apple Farm.

Right in time for a tomato tasting! I say unto you: woohoo! Cynthia Sandberg (friend and cohort) was just cutting into four kinds of the 100-plus heirloom varieties she's growing. Pictured at left, clockwise from the bottom, are: Green Giant (my new favorite), German Red Strawberry, Chuck's Yellow, and, in the center, Big Zebra. I loved the Big Zebra: it had a naturally salty tomato flavor. The yellow tomato was very sweet, and not that much to my personal liking, and the German Red Strawberry a little on the bland side. (Again, to my personal tastes.) I would definitely grow some of the Big Zebras, because they are both tasty and a pretty fruit.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Pictured here, Betty Van Dyke's beautiful plums.

NOTE: most of this post is not about farms. If you will be near New Hampshire this weekend, you might want to scroll down for a fabulous event taking place there.

Last week, the convergence of several streams of chaos had me rattled pretty badly. So badly, in fact, that on Friday night, I checked myself into the hospital (I hate doctors, I hate hospitals, so this is how desperate it was), certain I was dying of a heart attack. I felt as though I was being electrocuted, and I was prepared for a quadruple bypass. All I could think was, "Boy, if I die, is it ever going to screw with my daughter's financial aid for college."

The good news—great news, as it turns out—is that my blood pressure is just fine. It's even on the low side. "All" that was wrong with me was extreme anxiety, which is easily treatable. They gave me a pill that took the edge off, and the world once again seemed like a safe place. (Well, that's relative, isn't it?)

Not Clear on the Concept

I've seen spamming trackbacks and impersonal comments that leave me scratching my head. (What kind of fool thinks a trackback to his casino website will ever see the light of day?)

But a couple of days ago, I got a comment on my blog that just stupified me. Talk about "not clear on the concept." Read on. All spelling and punctuation are original. Someone named Chris, from Centennial, Colorado, read my piece about "The Best Sunday Dinner Chicken You'll Ever Get Your Hands On," and felt this was an appropriate comment to go public:

A Shock

Normally I would not post twice in a day. But this requires a post.

Earlier in the afternoon, I had visited my friend, MattBites, and left a comment on his piece about cheese, saying he inspired me to go visit my cheese shop. So I e-mailed Matt and told him to telephone me with any cheese recommendations.

We chatted briefly, until I arrived at the cheese shop, with his recommendations reciting in my brain: Tetilla and Nevat…Tetilla and Nevat…Tetilla and Nevat. (I hadn't anything to write with, so was reciting them to myself so I wouldn't forget. Have I mentioned I have a kind of audio-dyslexia, which means I can't understand verbal directions...I have to see them written, or have a map. Words just fall right out of my head sometimes.) I was already planning to e-mail Bob Furber, the wonderful cheesemonger, whom I had just told Matt, "He's filled with more good cheese trivia. I can stand there and listen to him and never get bored."

I told him what Bob had told me about the particular Parmigiana-Reggiano they sell, which he was cutting with his long double-handled cheese knives at the time. It seems that astronauts lose bone mass (calcium) on long stays aboard the space shuttles, and the Russians had discovered that their cosmonauts regained the bone mass more quickly than others with stays at a certain spa in Parma. What was their secret? The cheese. Henceforth, space shuttles began carrying one-ounce portions of the cheese wrapped in foil, as a proactive measure against loss of bone mass.

Seeing

Bear with me while I get mystical.

I visited a new farm last week, and climbed some steps up a bluff, where a view of the mountains sprawled in front of me. At the edge of a cliff, a large stand of sunflowers drew my attention, and I “took a picture.” (Now that I'm thinking of cameras day and night, “taking a picture” seems like a strange way to phrase the act of creating a photograph.)

I See Your True Colors

My 50 mm lens arrived unexpectedly yesterday, and I am officially OVERJOYED with both the camera and the lens.

The weather cooperated this morning by being overcast. The colors at the farmers market were brilliant beyond belief, and the abundance and variety, at the height of summer in August, just mind-boggling. Or eye-boggling. My eyes were definitely boggled.

Please check out the first four rows of the Farmers Markets album. (Or start with the purple artichokes here and click "Previous" 23 times.)

That's all for now.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “Nature always wears the colors of the spirit.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thanks for visiting, and thanks for your support.

By Request: The Specs

Stephen, of StephenCooks, asked about the camera lenses I'm so enthusiastic about.

The lens I used yesterday (Nikon 70-200mm f/2.8G ED-IF AF-S VR Zoom Nikkor Lens for Nikon Digital SLR Cameras ) was fantastic, but I had to give it back to my ex. He's a professional photographer, famous in the area for his landscapes, which he turns into calendars and greeting cards, and they turn into new houses in Utah. He gave me the best education on lenses, and pretty much sold me on the idea that the lens is more important than the camera. Bob long ago taught me that a good tool pays for itself, so I did a lot of research before settling on two choices.

 

As High as an Elephant's Eye

I'm in love with my new camera.

I'm in love with the lens my ex-husband let me borrow all day long, and am jonesing for the day my lenses arrive.

I'm in love with having new eyes, and with the idea that I got to visit two ranches, a farmstand, and a farm today, with my ex's little boys and Logan. The boys are moving to Utah, and I wanted to give them one glorious day in "the green, green grass of home," so to speak. It's very dry and red—like a Martian landscape—where they're moving. And precious little in the way of farms. Oh, they'll be back.

My new camera is a complex tool, and I'm just learning how to operate it. I lost a bunch of shots today and don't know why.

Lots to learn. I ain't complaining.

There are a few more shots in the Beautiful Farms gallery.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: “Vision is the true creative rhythm.” — Robert Delaunay

Thanks for visiting. I've been swamped with work for clients, and look forward to a little time to visit some new farms very soon.