Friday Nights

Over a month ago I left San Diego, headed for Washington, to try something new.  It didn't really hit me, what I was embarking on, until I dropped my dad off at the Seattle airport one Friday in May.  In the rushed moment it took to pull up to the curb and watch my dad walk through the sliding doors into the terminal I realized I was alone - completely alone - for the next month.

In that second I felt like I had let my teenage idealism take the best of me.  I had directed myself into doing something that I wasn't ready for.  I had always considered myself to be independent, if not a little introverted, but in that moment I felt terrifyingly alone and unbelievably naive.  I thought that I should be spending my Friday night hanging out with my friends, driving around our neighborhoods with the windows down, the radio cranked up, singing lame songs at the tops of our lungs.  Which is to say, I thought I should be spending my Friday night being a teenager.

I was crying by the time I pulled onto the freeway.  I was embarrassed and lonely and vulnerable.  I wanted to sleep in my own bed and hug my friends and tell my parents I had made a mistake, that I wanted to go home.

-

The following month would be one of the best of my life.  I met unbelievably unique, generous people and worked in some of the most strikingly beautiful places I've ever seen.   I saw the greenest, densest forests and the most rugged coastlines.  I got to watch things that I helped build take shape; vegetables that I helped plant, grow.

Let it be noted that I didn't find my life's calling in those three weeks.  I'm not physically cut out for farm work.  Though I've intimately come to appreciate the efforts necessary to sustain a small-scale organic farm, I can't imagine myself working on one for the rest of my life.  That's not to say I didn't find anything in that month, though.

During that month I got to be my own person.  I developed relationships with people outside of my high school bubble.  I made my own decisions and directed where I would go, what kind of impression I would make.  I was solely responsible for myself, my actions, my accountability - all in an unknown setting, 1300 miles from home - and I was content.  I realized, in this way, that I had been spending my Friday nights being an adult.

---


I'm infinitely thankful to everyone who enabled me to take this trip.  Jade Mohr, for approving my proposal.  My parents, for letting go.

On the Road Again

Seed pod, bus window

 

 Low clouds in the Skagit Valley

 

 Vegan chocolate hemp soft serve with golden berries from Healeo, Seattle

Washington tunnel-vision

 

 Mt. Shasta in the distance, I-5 South near Ashland, OR

 

 Siskiyou Summit, I-5 South near the Oregon/California border

Lake Shasta

 

 Toes

The Magic Skagit

It's been a busy week at Finney Farm!  Following are some photos of projects I've been working on.

Setting up twine suspension in the greenhouse.  

I tied twine around the base of each tomato plant, loosely wrapped it around the main stalk, and tightly secured it to the top rope.  This stands the tomato upright and encourages vertical growth more so than traditional tomato cages, which simply provide side support for plants.  Jennie compared the technique like this - crutches will give a person some upright support, while being hung by ropes on your wrists from a ceiling will really stretch you out.  

Twine-wrapped stalk

Last week I also made soil blocks for plant starts.

 Final product

First I had to mix potting soil.  It's a top-secret Finney Farm recipe which calls for dirt, sand, Perlite, coco fiber, and bat guano. 

 High nitrogen content!

Once that's done I wet the mixture, pack it into a soil block maker, push down on the handle and get four perfectly-shaped soil blocks! 

Super high-tech tool

For some reason I really enjoyed making soil blocks, as monotonous as it seems.  It was quiet and quick and I found it meditative.  It reminded me a lot of making mud pies as a kid

I spent the rest of the week weeding, transplanting, fertilizing, watering, and helping level ground for a new small greenhouse.

Weeding the blueberry orchard.  Far from ripe.

135 squash starts planted in squash mounds

 Hand-painted shed organization signs

 Harshly-worded road signs

Skagit County sprays pesticide on weeds along South Skagit Highway, where Finney Farm is located.  Being an organic farm, Finney Farm isn't interested in chemicals being sprayed on the property.  Hopefully my signs will be visible through the pesticide haze and sprayers will skip over Finney.

---

Yesterday it was gloriously sunny again and almost seventy degrees out.  I took a break mid-afternoon between preparing beds and transplanting lettuce to head down to Finney Creek, the namesake of the farm.  In the sun the snow-melt creek's temperature was tolerable for longer than thirty seconds and I sat in the ankle-deep water until I felt sun drunk.

Washington Sunshine

Everyone keeps cracking the "Washington Sunshine" joke to me ("Washington Sunshine" = rain).  For some reason, I laugh every time.  As of now I like the rain up here -- even if they get more in one day than San Diego can get in an entire season.

The other day I took a walk in the woods with Bella, a farm dog, in the pouring rain.  The forests here are so ridiculously thick.  I feel like if I were to step off the trail more than two feet (or loose Bella) I would be totally lost.  Trees are so densely packed that it's hard to get any sense of direction in the woods near Finney Farm.

Cloudy skies soon turned into a monsoon

 "Lung Wart", a local, edible lichen.  What a sick description for lichen.  Totally the name of my new band.

In person, the texture fits the name perfectly

Yesterday we had some real Washington sunshine.  It was glorious.  I didn't realize how much I missed blue sky.

It exists!

Listomania

I'm a list-maker.  Half of the fun in this trip was making lists in preperation for it.  Packing Lists, To Do Before Washington Lists, Itinerary Lists, etc.  

I'm only half-kidding.

Following are a few new lists of potential interest to you.

---

Things I'm Really Glad I Brought with Me to Washington

• Rain boots
• Rain jacket
• Rain pants
• Rain fly for my tent
• Many pairs of socks
• Woven blanket from Mexico
  
  All of these things, directly or not, relate to the wet weather in Washington.  Thankfully I came prepared.

 Very cozy

-

Things I Really Wish I Had Brought To Washington That I Didn't

•  Hair conditioner
  
  I brought with me this bar shampoo, JR Liggett's.  On the label it says most people don't need conditioner, so I threw caution to the wind and didn't pack any.  Mistake!  While I find that bar shampoo works surprisingly well to clean my hair, it does not work to detangle it at all.  Major bummer pulling out hair by the clump for two weeks before I crumpled under the pressure of it all and bought some conditioner at the Port Townsend Co-Op.
  
  -

 Things I Miss

• Showers (the hot kind, in stall or tub form found in many common bathrooms)
• Mexican Food
• My pets
• You!*
  
  *Possibly.  Depending on who you are.

 Oh my god.  I miss Mexcian food so much.  Don't get me wrong -- the food up here is awesome. Jennie, the WWOOF coordinator at Finney Farm is like a gourmet vegan chef.  It's ridiculous.  One night she made gluten-free, vegan thanksgiving dinner and I was nearly in tears over it's deliciousness.  I can't even describe how fantastic it was.
But sometimes all a girl wants are some 99 cent hot carrots from Ortizes, you know?  Or a Rancho's burrito.  Or fajitas from Pokez. Ok I'm stopping now.  But you get the picture.

New Digs

On Friday after Cat and Jason left I moved into the bus -- the typical living accommodations for WWOOFers at Finney Farm.  It's surprisngly warm and cozy.  Shelves, cabinets, carpet, lights, and a small wood stove were installed over time, too, making it look like an above-average travel trailer inside.  It can be hooked up to electricity, but I'm doing without for the next week.

 Last registered in 2001, according to the license plate

 Functional tail lights

 Bedroom

 Couch with a view

 "You can do it if you want to"

Art piece left by a former WWOOFer

Sorry for the short post!  I'll update later this week on current greenhouse work.

Finney Farm

I made it to my second farm on Monday: Finney Farm in Concrete, WA!  Everyone is super welcoming and nice.  This week I've worked with two other WWOOFers from Washington who have been at Finney for a month (They both leave today - bye Cat and Jason!).

Finney!

The ever-welcoming 100 foot tall ex-concrete mill in Concrete

Main street with the Cascades behind

Skagit River

Herb garden with the barn behind

While here I've done various odd projects like transplanting vegetable starts, weeding, and scattering hay on top of grain beds for a mulch layer.  Additionally, I've worked on the brand, spankin' new Finney Farm greenhouse.  When I first arrived all it consisted of was a metal and wood frame atop non-level ground.  Since I've started working we've put the plastic covering on, leveled the ground, built up beds, covered them in plastic, and began transplanting tomatoes.

Though the greenhouse project isn't entirely cohesive with the Finney Farm goal of sustainability (Jennie, the WWOOF coordinator, described it as a "plastic altar"), growing tomatoes does offset other purchases on the farm.  By growing a crop of vegetables unaccustomed to Washington weather in a greenhouse, the farm can eliminate future purchases of ketchup, salsa, canned tomatoes, and fresh tomatoes.  By making and canning their own tomato products, the farm owners reduce the carbon footprint of their meals by eliminating transportation from farm to store to home.

Hay-covered grain bed and greenhouse

Shaping beds

Black, plastic covering on the beds to further raise the soil temperature in the steamy greenhouse

Tomatoes ready to be transplanted!

This weekend I'm heading to Bellingham, WA to check out the town and work on schedule planning for fall.

Red Dog Wrap Up

Following are some photos from my last weekend in the beautiful northeast corner of the Olympic Peninsula.

First, notes on Port Townsend, a small, eclectic artist's town on Puget Sound.  The town is funky and earthy - a bit like a mix of Hillcrest and Ocean Beach.  There are organic restaurants, funky vintage clothing and record stores, and tons of coffee shops in town.  

A PT bumper sticker notes the sarcastic nature of residents

Postcards by local artists at the PT farmer's market

Scarves done using a felting technique by another local craft-maker at the farmer's market

On Sunday I went to Marrowstone Island where a part-time worker at Red Dog is house sitting.  She hosted a croquet and potluck party!

Gorgeous guest house on the property built by Jim, the owner

A fierce game ensued

 Some got competitive when given the chance to knock other players' croquet balls away

 After the game, Janet, a neighbor, led us through the woods down to the shore or Marrowstone Island

We found a geocache box in the roots of a driftwood tree.  Inside we found a log book, shells, and a pair of turtle socks!

 A view of the Sound from the top of the cliff on our way back

 Meadow atop the cliffs

 In the meadow - a group of old, weather-beaten houses with moss-covered rooftops

On the way back to Red Dog from Marrowstone I stopped on Indian Island to walk along the shore.

Back at Red Dog I took a few final photos of the farm.

 An attempt to take a photo with Woofins, the barn cat.  He drools and brought rats into the bathroom to present to me sometimes.

---

  

I left Red Dog farm Monday morning, as scheduled.  I had a fantastic time on my first WWOOF farm.  I learned a ton about basic harvest, transplant, and tool techniques.  The people I met and worked with through Red Dog were welcoming, adventurous, and exceptionally understanding about my lack of farm knowledge! 

 Miss you already, Red Dog Farm crew!  Keep on rockin'.