Alex.
That sunset. We made it to Big Sur. Henry Miller Library. Drove around a bunch trying to find the elusive Willow creek, which we never actually found. We did, however, find Eden and her brother, and proceed to camp at a place comparable to Eden: Plaskett Creek. Basking in the sun here turned into basking in the wind as we soaked in the sunset with new friends from Quebec and beyond. We eventually found ourselves in the hot springs in Esalen soaking in the hot spring fumes and reviving night air. Magic happened.

The next day involved cruising up the coast. We scoped the Gorge in Big Sur Pfiefer State. We fell in the creek Kerouac style. The water was cold enough to bring up the subconscious, and it was ever so worth it. We met the ever-so-friendly campfire wine queen. Turns out we fluently can converse in Italian, French, Spanish, and Portuguese.

Post canyon shivers. We drove up the Palo Colorado Canyon to visit Country Flat (aka home). It was great to see the farm and family.

The next day found us in the ocean at Andrew Molera State park. Windy and Sunny yet again. More Henry Miller Library. We wound around til Cayucos. Swing.

SLO. Again. Sillyness saved my life.

Laiken.
Still smiling, met the Quebecers at the campsite and reaffirmed my opinion that they are the most fun/least serious people on this planet. They lead us to the ocean cliffs for a sunset that will forever be carbon-copied into my memories. The best moments are like that.

The next day was my favorite. The morning was sluggish and i stumbled back to the cliff. Breeze from the Pacific and words from my best friend lead me to epiphany. From there we went to the Henry Miller Library, hidden in the redwoods in the shadows of time. We stayed for a while and indulged on coffee and pseudo-intellectual literature like Kundera and Nabokov. Henry Miller was the man. From there we went hiking up a cold creek, bottle of red wine, crackers, cheese and sausage in hand. Hopped from rock to rock with impeccable balance, gettin' our Japhy on between swigs of laughter and mishap. Kerouac meets Hemingway. Hah!

In the words of Henry: "The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware"

I finished working on the farm last week. On my last day we showed the farm to a group of Japanese college students. On Sunday I drove home. I had a ride sharer incapable of driving manual, so I drove the whole 12 hours solo. We ran out of gas around 9 PM two miles from the first gas station in Arizona. A nice fellow helped us out and we got going again in 30 minutes. Got to the Meadow at 12:17 AM Monday morning.

Thus, I am once again in Flag. I have spent the last few days moving house up to the Meadow.

Harvest

Wwoofer Quinn, Peter Eichorn, Me

Leni, Tagako, and I transplanting redwood babies.

Fresh Eggs

Peter telling what's what.

BASIL!

What Wwoofing looks like

My time on the farm is coming to an end. This last week I canned some green beans because the green bean plants are making more green beans than an army can eat. Picked daily we still have too much for anyone. I have been perfecting the hash-brown process. I made some more epic food concoctions from our here land.

Here, for any who care, is a not quite all inclusive list of food eaten from this farm; peach, blueberry, wild strawberry, blackberry, basil, lettuce, chard, kale, watercress, broccoli, cabbage, carrot, beetroot, nasturtium, garlic, eggs, chilis (Padron, Jalapeno, + others), purslane, almonds, avocado, alfalfa, meyer lemon, orange, grapefruit, arugula, honey, propolis, nectarine, plum, mulberry, elderberry, potato, black beans, quinoa, squash (Yellow crookneck, zuchs, pattypan, lemon cukes), eggplant, tomatillo, herbs (oregano, lemon verbena, spearmint, peppermint, lavender, thyme, rosemary, etc)

One might be curious why spend more than a month of summer slaving away on a farm. Well, I learned some cool stuff. I learned how to drive Gail (Gehl) the tractor, Mary the mule (kawasaki 4x4), prune roses and lemons, mulching, vermiculture, greenhouse management, gopher control (snakes, raptors, and traps), rat and vole control, honey extraction and a slice of beekeeping, weed control, pest deterrent (deer, bird, and vermin), grain harvesting winnowing and preparing, grafting, biodynamic stirring and organic plant spraying, compost (pile is over 200 degrees f since we made it 2 days ago). I probably spent more time picking lemons, or waiting for Peter.

Effectively I learned a chunk about how to promote life and then keep out competing species from eating the fruit of the labor. Organics is on its most basic level all about creating an atmosphere in which life, molecularly, wants to thrive. From the molecule up, the soil and grasses grow. Organic farmers often consider themselves soil farmers, or grass farmers because the real work is to try and create a soil in which plants thrive. A strong plant in a diverse landscape is resistant to the problems that the monocultures of modern agriculture face.

Breakfast: chocolate chip potato pancake topped with front yard berries.

Persian Mulberry Sorbet (best sorbet to date for me).

Hash De Padron (fresh picked potato x padron chili x tomato x purslane)

Bean Pickles

Got Beans?

Poison Oak

Propolis Band Aid Tincture

I made friends with urushiol this week. It's great stuff.

I volunteered at Henry Miller Library some more, read some books, and watched some movies. I slept in my car a bit around Big Sur.

I cut my own hair. It looks pretty bad, but so does my whole body right now.

I also took some pictures.

Something about my right eye and putting it in the way.

Nasturtium, Hass, and Lettuce

The baby chicks.

Quinn. Fellow Wwoofer.

Lemon butter, broccoli, and hops.