This Too Shall Pass

     Just under 2 years ago we experienced Hurricane Matthew.  It's a storm that lives in infamy as Florence will.  It will be a hurricane that others are compared to, like Fran, Floyd, Isabel, Irene, Matthew.  Around here we ask, did your house flood during Floyd?  During Matthew?  When I was in Oriental this past week they asked the same, did it get up that high during Irene?  Matthew was devastating for our community, and it crippled our fall season as our maze was standing in chest deep water.  It looked like the corn was mostly still standing, so we thought hopefully when the waters receded we would be alright.  We were wrong.  There was so much debris in the water (if you haven't experienced it you cannot imagine the power of water.  Incredible.), and when it settled it ruined the maze.  We're talking rafts two feet thick filled with my neighbors corn stalks, old tires, buckets, more drink bottles and cans than you can count, tree limbs and branches, you name it we found it.  

Aftermath of Hurricane Matthew

Aftermath of Hurricane Matthew

Aftermath of Hurricane Matthew

     After it was over, we sat dumbfounded that this was our new reality.  Of course we knew it was possible.  Our farm flooded in Floyd.  Yet that was supposed to be a 500 year flood, and here we were experiencing a worse one not 20 years later.  The Husband talked about building a berm across the part of our farm that floods and many solutions to stop the waters from inundating our place.  I disagreed.  I look at the Outer Banks, where people are trying to force something which has been transient for hundreds of years into something solid so they can build a house or a road on it, and every storm that comes the water and wind decide differently and open new inlets or erode more of the beach.  It's a shame for us because we love the beach and enjoy going, and it's a shame for homeowners trying to fight nature, but that's just what these coastal islands were meant to do (now don't get all offended.  I am in no way saying we shouldn't have beach houses or beach communities.  I'm just saying the islands were never meant to be permanent).  That example led me to believe that our only option was to never plant or build anything beyond our little hill that we couldn't stand to lose.  We can't stop the flood water.  The only thing we can do is try and work with it.  He eventually came around to my way of thinking.

     But this was the problem with that solution, the best corn land is in the flood plain (corn is a crop that can't withstand droughts as well as cotton or even soybeans, and in our area we can have dry summers, so our heavy wet-leaning river land is great for corn, of course).  So our idea to never plant the corn maze back in that field created another problem...where do you put it?  Last year we put it up in what we call the front field.  Well, we were late planting (our goal is always July 15) which wouldn't have been a big deal in the heavy wet flood plain but up on the lighter-soiled, drier front field the corn couldn't make up the time.  Then the grass came in.  The seed were donated and we weren't sure it was round-up ready.  We sprayed a couple test plots and it nearly killed the corn so we decided not to spray the entire field and the grass almost choked out the corn.  It was a disaster.  Eventually in places it got up high but for the most part the maze wasn't waist high.  Some people liked that because of the claustrophobic nature of corn, but it also turned people off because corn mazes are supposed to be tall and high, and impossible to get out of.  It was a major disappointment for us and we were determined not to have a repeat in 2018.

     Well 2018 has been a weather shi* storm (excuse the language, I'm just a cusser).  During strawberries it was so wet and hot it ended the season early.  Then June and half of July we got no rain at all.  0 inches of rain.  That's a critical time for crops.  Most everyone we know lost their corn crops (because not only does it need a lot of rain, but the temps must be right when it's pollinating or it won't), we had a sweet corn crop never make an ear.  It got so bad even the dang grass wouldn't grow.  And then in the middle of July someone turned the faucet on.  We were glad at first because it was about the time we planted the maze and we needed rain.  We moved it from where it was last year to an area to the side where we'd had it before.  The land was wetter in places, and we like to rotate crops as much as possible.  We had the best stand we'd ever had.  Everything looked great.  And then it wouldn't stop raining.  The corn looked great, the pumpkins started to suffer.  We fertilized. The grass became uncontrollable.  We sprayed.  We fertilized.  It kept raining.  We couldn't get in the field to do anything, everything started to drown.  Plants need water, but they also need air. The pumpkins drowned.  The corn faired better.  Then right before Florence our nearly daily rainfall stopped and we went a week without anything, then just got an inch, then another hot dry week.  Our crops had not developed the root system they should, because when you're getting fed every day without having to try you get lazy, an the same thing goes with plants.  The roots didn't have to dig as deep to find water so when the dry times came again the corn didn't have deep roots and suffered.  The result was the corn was uneven with a thinner stalk.  It chose this time to tassel. And then Florence.

     When we thought it was going to be a cat 4 we just assumed we'd all be wiped off the face of the Earth.  A cat 4 plus 15 inches of rain?  Apocalypse.  That would be like it Floyd and Fran got together and Florence was their daughter. Then it didn't strengthen where they thought it would and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.  But we were still forecast to get 15-20 inches of rain.  We weren't that worried about the wind.  We had a brush up from Irene in 2011 that blew the corn mighty bad.  We left that weekend to get strawberry tips and when we came back I was amazed. The pull of the sun had caused the corn to stand back up and we pulled out a great maze.  We'd had other brushes, but our corn had always been young and green enough to pull through.  Our biggest worry was flooding.  We knew we'd lose the sunflowers.  The wind would bruise the flowers and the flood would take them out.  We had to move Herbert.  Wind wasn't really our concern. 

Hurricane Irene's Maze

The stalks were bent from where they'd laid down but the maze overall survived fine.

     Friday morning at 6 I woke up to an alarm on my phone about a flood warning (by the end of the storm I wanted to burn that phone.  Dang tornado and flash flood warnings constantly at 2 and 3 am.  I don't think I slept a single night through) and I heard a weird noise outside.  I looked out of our window to see the greenhouse plastic flapping int he wind.  We'd worried about that plastic since it was getting old, but what can you do to save it?  We hurried outside in the half light of the morning as the wind gusted and we got wet through cutting the remaining plastic to save the structure of the green house and so that it wouldn't fly across the farm and land in someone else's yard.  It was then I started to worry about the wind.  We ended up losing a tree, and when we went to the farm again later that day (The Husband isn't the type to sit at home) the maze was flattened.  I'm sure it was a combo of the super saturated soils plus those wind gusts we got most of the day on Friday.  Our poor weak corn just couldn't stand up to that kind of punishment.  Once the wind was past here came the water.  This time we were fortunate that we didn't get as much, it didn't linger as long, and only a tiny fraction of the actual maze flooded.  Our worry now was it drowning from too much rain (we had 19 in our gauge) and no where for that water to go but sit in the field. 

Maze on Friday

Maze on Sunday, we were hopeful at this point because it had come up some.

     We decided not to get up in arms about the maze just yet.  After all the sun didn't start shining really until Tuesday and we knew it needed sun.  All week we watched and waited, sure it would come up.  Then yesterday we decided to walk out in it and see just how bad it was.  Well, there are areas that have come up to maybe chest high, but for the most part it was waist or lower.  We had to face reality and scrap the maze.  Morale was pretty dang low around here yesterday morning.  We'd babied that maze and kept up hope for weeks, and now this one storm out of our control has ruined it all.  Three years in a row our maze has not been up to our standards.  Another pumpkin patch lost.  They'd been so promising.  So pretty.  Gone.  It's so hard to try year after year, to plan and hope and try and do and work so, so hard and have it unravel right in front of your eyes.  We wanted to give up.  Why bother?  What does it mean to pour your every hope, all your free time, into something and have it fail?  This farm has become so ingrained in my being, it's like an emotional attachment to the land, and it's failed me.  For a moment we lost hope.  Maybe we should just give up on this thing.  And then I thought about all of the people around us, all the people who live in these communities who have lost everything.  This could have been my house.  What if I had a brick and mortar place under 8 feet of water?  What if the only part of my house you could see was the roof?  What if I'd had to have been airlifted from it?  The toll of their loss weighed on me and I realized while we were dejected and disappointed we were so fortunate.  I can't imagine losing...everything.

Saturday checking out the maze, and realizing it wasn't going to come back up.

     That's what puts it perspective for us.  We are so relatively lucky.  It could have been so much worse and is so much worse for so many others and my heart just breaks for them.  Will this fall be the fall we'd hoped it was?  No.  But does anything turn out the way you expect when you're planning?  No.  We will make it through this.  We started brainstorming immediately.  What can we add in place of this?  What else can we do?  And by the end of the day I started getting excited again, ready for fall and all it will bring.  We'll still have a small maze that we're cutting through the tallest bits of the field but it will be more like a 'kids maze' than a real corn maze.  We'll still have a good fall and our community and others like it will pull through this and come through the other side.  This too shall pass and tomorrow is another day. 

Ode to Winter

I know a lot of people like Spring because of the flowers and warmer weather and I know a lot of people like Summer because of the long days and flip flops and Fall's great because of the crisper air and football and pumpkins...but to me, the best season of all is Winter.  

I've loved Winter since I was a kid.  I can't really explain why I've gravitated to cold stark Winter.  Maybe it's because I love cold weather and snow (just maybe not in almost mid-March).  Maybe it's because I like rooting for the underdog and liking things most people overlook (and lets face it, around these parts most folks are all about flip-flops and nine o'clock bedtimes).  Maybe it's because I love comfort soups and stews and I can get by with cooking them more in the winter (The Husband is not as big of a soup and stew fan, but there is one I make every Saturday night that he absolutely adores: Shrimp Chowder.  Recipe to follow).  Maybe because it's so festive with Thanksgiving (my personal fave) and Christmas and New Years (and my birthday).  Who knows?  Maybe I'm just wired wrong or something.

Now that I'm grown (yikes!) and have started farming Winter brings a whole new meaning and I think I love it even more.  We close the farm at the end of fall and let out a collective deep breath.  I like to marinate on what we did this past year until after Christmas, and then we start planning.  It's the calm before the storm of Spring where we can decide what we want to do and what we want to add and plan it all on paper and have this wonderful idea of how we want the year to go before real life and the weather and time constraints mess it up.  It's the time where we can do a bit of traveling (mostly to meetings and conventions but it's traveling just the same.  This year we got to go to Lake Tahoe.  Lake Tahoe!).  It's the time where we can make plans with our kids and family without it having to revolve around what's happening at the farm this week.  It's a time where I can catch up on housework and cook things that take longer than thirty minutes.  It's a time of renewal and a time of hope.  

"What good is the warmth of summer without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?" John Steinbeck

Well, we have some exciting changes coming to the farm and a few new things we want to try and it all looks good on paper right now and we're very hopeful it's going to be great.  Now it's time to take that collective breath in, because we're in the last gasp of Winter here and Springs coming fast, and that means it's time to get out and get to work!

"There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature - the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter." Rachel Carson

As promised, here's my Shrimp Chowder recipe.  It's loosely based on one I found here by Sara Moulton (I'm a PBS nerd).  It's super easy and pretty quick to make, filling yet not heavy, and perfect for Saturday evenings at home.

Shrimp Chowder (I’d say it makes enough for a family of four or two very hungry adults.  If you’re feeding a crowd, I’d double.)

1 pound of shrimp (I go Atlantic Seafood on Royall and get the bag of already peeled and de-veined ones, because I’m lazy like that)

1 pound bacon (I really like Heritage Farms bacon even though it’s pricey.  It has amazing flavor.  Of course, any bacon will work.)

2 t butter

4-6 good hand-sized potatoes, I like the red ones.

2 stalks celery

½ onion

1-2 cloves of garlic, minced

3-4 tablespoons of flour, depending on how thick you want it.

2 cups of stock (I’ve used chicken, vegetable, or seafood, but currently I’m obsessed with making my own chicken stock so I’ve been using that.  I’ll include that recipe too.)

1 cup water (if I was using broth instead of stock I’d use 3 cups broth and no water)

2 cups milk

1 cup half-n-half or heavy cream, whatever you have.

Old Bay to taste

2 good pinches of dried thyme.

Salt and pepper to taste

Cook the bacon, I’ve done it all in one pot but I like to use a separate pan because the bacon grease can scorch if you have your heat too high and then you’ll have black bits in your white chowder.  Set the bacon aside and pour half to ¾ of your drippings in your soup pot and add the butter.  Once it’s melted add your chopped celery and onions and a good shake of salt and pepper.  Since I don’t like celery and onions and will pick them out I leave them big but you can cut them as small as you want.  Soon as they’ve softened some I had the flour.  I use two or three heaping soup spoons but it’s all what you want.  I let that cook a couple minutes until it starts to barely turn brown and I add the liquids. Once that’s combined I put in the potatoes, again, cut to how you like.  I try to go bite sized or a little more because the smaller they are the faster they cook and after I’ve cooked that bacon I’m starving.  Add the seasonings.  I like a lot of Old Bay so I probably put a tablespoon.  Once everything’s cooked through I add my shrimp and cook it until it’s just pink.  Sometimes I cut the heat off before I do this.  The longer they cook the more like rubber tires they will be.  I cut up a strip of crispy bacon and top with it.  YOU HAVE TO HAVE THE BACON.  It makes the chowder.  Enjoy!

Chicken Stock (I got this idea from Pioneer Woman, to give credit where it’s due)

1 small chicken (or the leftover bits and carcass from one you’ve baked)

½ - whole onion chunked

1 stalk celery chunked

1 large carrot chunked or 5-10 baby ones

1-2 cloves garlic, mashed

Water

Put the chicken in the crock pot and stuff the vegetables in.  I only really cut them so they’ll fit in my crock pot and I mash the garlic with my knife and peel it just to help release the flavor.  If I’m cooking this to make chicken soup with I add salt and pepper.  If it’s going to be strictly stock I don’t, so I can control the amount to seasoning when I actually make my dish.  I either do this right before I go to bed and cook it on low all night, or right when I get up and cook it on low all day.  I have done it at lunchtime for chicken soup and cooked it on high all afternoon.  There is no right or wrong.  It will make a stock so good and thick and flavorful you won’t go back  to the bottled stuff.  And it’s amazingly easy.

Dove Season

When I was a kid these were the three harbingers of fall: Uncle Pat started picking corn, we had the annual Harvest Sale at my church (shameless plug the harvest sale is at Providence UMC in Mar Mac on Sat. Sept. 9 from 4:30-7:30, eat in or take out, BBQ and turkey, the best you’ll ever eat at a church function.  Uncle Pat’s in charge of the pigs and that sauce is to-die-for.  See me for tickets 😊), and on Labor Day weekend dove season came in.

I grew up on an almost mile long state-maintained dirt road with no other houses on it (except for the migrant workers Uncle Pat had when he raised tobacco).  All summer long we’d be surrounded by wheat, soybeans, and yes, corn.  It’s a bird paradise.  Hunting was a part of my life, my step-dad went, my step-brother, my uncle, my granddaddy, my cousin would even come from Chapel Hill and go…it was/is a big thing for my family.  We always had a dove hunt on my uncle’s farm, but when he became involved with Quail Unlimited it became massive.  He started planting sunflowers for them (and I fell in love with those beautiful yellow blooms of sunshine).  The fields around our house sounded like a war zone or something, all these men in camo shooting like crazy at these poor beautiful birds.  We couldn’t walk outside without orange on.  And for Sunday lunch my mama would fry them and smother them in gravy.  Those poor beautiful birds were pretty dang delicious. 

This is NOT my picture, but for those of you who aren't sure what a dove is, this is a great picture of them.

Ever since we started opening our farm to visitors we’ve had people ask about hunting it.  In the past, it’s always been a family thing.  The Husband and his three close cousins hunted it.  It’s always been a good place to hunt.  We have a swamp on the side favored by ducks.  We have a river that abuts the back of the property that the deer and such run down.  Anyone who’s come to the corn maze has seen evidence of their tracks through the maze.  The Husband’s always been turning over the idea of leasing out the hunting rights or hosting hunts on the farm to bring us in some additional revenue.  We have this amazing resource here that we have to make a payment on every year, why not use every opportunity to do it? 

They love hanging out on this fence.  The Girl says they want to play on the playground.

 Honestly, I’ve always been a little tentative to go the hunting route.  First off, I’m not a hunter.  I can understand the peace and solitude that people get from hunting and I enjoy the meat, but I think it has to be the most boring thing in the planet.  I went deer hunting a few times.  You get up at the crack before it’s light in the cold and go sit in a tree for hours being super quiet and still possibly to see nothing.  I just don’t see the appeal.  Second off, it’s a huge liability.  You’re going to let people with loaded guns ready to shoot them on your land.  What if there’s an accident?  Third, my plate is so full trying to organize and market our fall activities, plus my house, plus my kids, plus just life in general, I just don’t know how I can fit anything else on it (my wonderful CSA helper Melissa said to me yesterday, you need an assistant.  Yes, yes I do.  I just can’t afford one).  However, the birds have been CRAZY on the farm this year. Even I’ve noticed that every time I ride to the farm I scare up at least 20 dove if not more and that’s just by riding by on my truck.  The combination of the sunflowers and a wheat crop we weren’t able to harvest (don’t ask, it’s a sore subject) has made the perfect environment for a dove.  Not to mention since we’ve lived here (7 years) they’ve not been hunted on this farm, so they haven’t been conditioned to avoid it.  Sunday my husband counted fifty in fifteen minutes out of the back of the berry shed and 2 customers mentioned they saw 30 while they were standing there taking pictures. 

I felt like I was working for National Geographic trying to catch this one on my poor phone. 

So this year we’re hosting our first ever dove hunt.  If it goes well maybe we’ll open the farm up to duck and deer hunting.  Hopefully it will.  We’ve got a good lunch planned and a couple tickets sold so far we’re optimistic.  If you're interested in joining us, call JR at 919-738-2928 or shoot us an email at odomfarmingcoinc@gmail.com.  We'd love to have you out!

And I had to include a sunflower picture, just because!

#tastythursday

I don't want to become a food blogger.  With my discriminating palate and crazy schedule I can't ever count on when we're having Japanese takeout or shrimp alfredo or fried chicken (which, honestly we don't have too much because it doesn't matter what I do or how I cook it I NEVER get every piece done through.  Instead I batter and fry boneless skinless chicken thighs.  It's not the same, but it's daggone close to me).  

However in support of my #tastythursday segment on Facebook (www.facebook.com/ofcinc) I thought I'd cook tonight using a couple of the things from the CSA boxes this week and see how it went.  I get so many recipe requests I figured my little sheets might not be enough so I decided last year to start #tastythursday on the farm's Facebook in an effort to get people sharing about what they'd cooked this week.  Admittedly (like a lot of the things I do), I started with great intentions that fell off when I got busy (I tend to have a one track mind and if I don't do it RIGHT THEN I'll forget.  I was voted most forgetful in high school even.  Of course the more stressed I get the worse it gets and I have to admit, I've been pretty stressed lately).  But I thought it was a good idea so I've brought it back this year.  I missed last week, my apologies, but I'm on top of it this week so here's my attempt at food blogging.

Tonight The Girl was graduating aka being promoted to the next class at her preschool, so I knew I had to get started cooking earlier than normal so we'd be on time (I'm five minutes late everywhere and it grates on The Husband's nerves).  I decided on grilled boneless skinless chicken thighs marinated all day in Italian dressing, a squash and onion grill packet (thanks Melissa Vera for the idea!) and a cheesy potato grill (PTL for Pintrest!) packet.  The chicken is pretty self-explanatory.  Easy, light, delicious.  You can't go wrong.  The cheesy potatoes I just cut up maybe 2 lbs of potatoes (I peeled mine because I'm picky like that) into cubeish shapes that were on the small side.  I salted and peppered them and added a little Cajun seasoning, then put them in a packet with a tablespoon of bacon grease and 2 of butter (I never claimed they were healthy!), cooked them maybe 20-30 minutes on the grill and then peeled back the foil to add cheese.  If I'd had any thawed out bacon I would have added it instead of the bacon grease.  If I'd have thought about adding dry ranch dressing mix I would have.  Next time my friends, next time!  For the squash and onions I cut up two squash since really it's just The Husband who eats it and half an onion.  I tossed it in the same as the potatoes, salt, pepper, and Cajun seasoning.  I added a clove of garlic that I just smashed and peeled, a tablespoon of bacon grease and two of butter.  I put the packet on the grill and cooked it for the same amount of time as the potatoes.  Basically, I put them on about five minutes before the chicken and when the chicken was done I pulled them off.  Now if you're not picky like my family you could mix the squash packet with the potatoes and I bet it would be wonderful, but we're weird so there you have it.

Before

After

 You know how you have those nights where it doesn't matter what you do supper (The Herrings call lunch dinner and dinner supper.  Welcome to the south) is a fail.  Well, tonight it was anything but.  Everyone ate it like it was the best thing they'd ever ate at The Husband kept saying it was the best thing he'd eaten in a while (which, honestly I could take a couple ways but I'm going with compliment).  I think I've found how I'm going to cook pretty much everything all summer.  I hope you try these.  I thought they turned out pretty good.  And if you have any stellar recipes you'd like to share feel free too!

The 'graduate', and her trusty side-kick.  Matching clothes totally unintentional.

Week 1

Okay y'all, last week I blogged about the Matthew flood and literally A DAY LATER we had another one that was probably 90% of what Matthew was, so, with rain forecast again this week I have promised I will not talk about our second major flood in six months and I will not.  I will post pictures and let them speak for me.

This was taken Wed. evening as the water rose.

Thursday morning we woke up to Lake Odom

The water at it's height covering the back yard.  It was only a few feet lower than the Hurricane.

The canal of water flowing across my neighbors land from the little river onto ours.

 The first week of the 2017 CSA is behind us and it was, well, I'm looking for a better word than disaster and coming up short.  Maybe a semi-disaster.  A couple months ago Wayne UNC Health Care (formally Wayne Memorial Hospital) came up and asked us if we'd be interested in doing a farmers market there at the hospital.  We jumped at the chance even though we'd never done/weren't terribly interested in doing a farmers market.  Honestly, you work and work and work to produce the produce (see what I did there ;) and sell two squash...money wise it's never seemed like a huge win for us.  However I thought it'd be a great chance to get the word out about our CSA and would be a good opportunity.  Finally about a week and a half before we were set to begin I got the green light from the board.  So yesterday my new employee Melissa (of Adventures of Frugal Mom fame) set off.  I was not prepared.  Last week was super stressful because of the flood, then Monday I was horribly sick due to the perfect storm of something emitting pollen and mixing with those crazy winds (I have no voice today.  The Girl got up and said 'what happened to your voice?  Did it float away?  Maybe she has some lingering flood PTSD?).  In an effort to be efficient, I got the bright idea to 'lets pack some deliveries' at the farmers market while we're waiting for customers, so we dragged all out product from the farm with us, then down to the farmers market location (the sunken outdoor patio connected to the cafeteria), then we didn't use as much which meant I could have put that much more in my boxes but I couldn't, because people were already picking up at the farm and it wouldn't be fair.  Not to mention we didn't start deliveries until 3, which is waaaay later than I would like.  It was a huge mistake on my part that left me feeling horrible last night.  I emailed my customers and within minutes I had messages of support back which lightened my mood so much and made it where I could sleep last night (couple years ago I took a MBTI test for the Karl Best Ag Leadership class and got INTJ, when I make mistakes I tend to agonize over them until I come up with a solution).  Another instance of us having the best customers on the planet!

Odom Farming Company TO GO

But, now I know what not to do and what to expect at the farmers market, which I think was a success.  Everyone was excited for us to be there and we were excited for the opportunity.  We have a new plan of attack for next week and I only see good things in our future, even if we started off on the wrong foot.  In the words of Scarlett O'Hara...tomorrow is another day!

Water

I’m going to make a blanket statement here.  I feel like of all the resources in the world, water is the most vital, and with our changing climate it will only get more so.  Without it you cannot survive.  You cannot grow food.  You cannot take care of yourself.  It can be your biggest blessing and your worst enemy.  As I sit here and watch this rain fall today, I know it has been both to me.  We've had years where our location to the swamp and river have proven vital to our survival.  We've had years where I just wished I could spread a tarp over the field and keep the water off the plants.  Farmers say a dry year will hurt you but a wet one will kill you.  I believe it. 

This is the Hurricane Matthew post.  I’ve sat down five or six times to write it.  I tried last fall and couldn’t.  I tried after Christmas and couldn't.  How do you sum up a disaster that big?  How do you convey the feeling in your heart when you drive up to your farm and see it under water?  We were blessed that our home was not hurt.  We were blessed that our families remained unscathed.  We had a lot of things going for us, but we had one big one going against us.  I know to a lot of people what we lost seems like nothing.  It was just a corn maze.  It was just a field of corn.  You can plow it up and plant again.  At least it wasn’t a building.  At least it wasn’t your house.  No, it wasn’t and believe me, I am beyond thankful it wasn’t.  But it was still important to us.  So here’s our Hurricane Matthew story. 

All that week we watched the weather.  It’s a compulsive habit of mine to check the weather every time I get on the computer.  We watched the spaghetti plots and rainfall estimates.  I was glued to every news outlet in Eastern North Carolina, the National Hurricane Center, and even those Facebook meterologists who are on iffy credibility at best.  Worrying about the weather is something I’ve done my whole life (honestly worrying in general comes natural to me.  I got it from my granddaddy).  One of my earliest memories was of a tornado outbreak that occurred when I was four or five.  I will never forget how hot it was that day or how black the clouds were.  I will never forget coming out of my house into a drenching driving rain into a yard that was flooded to my knees with hailstones floating on it (when it receded it cut a foot deep ditch in my yard).  I will never forget the fear in my mama’s voice as my daddy tried to get his truck up our dirt path, and the wind was blowing so hard he had the pedal to the metal and it was barely moving (he, of course, thought it was great fun).  I will never forget how scared I got for weeks after every time it clouded up and how she used to have to make me play outside (seriously, it was on my chore chart).  That experience instilled a great need in me to be prepared.  From then on I read every book in the Grantham school library about severe weather to learn all I could so next time I would know what to do.  I’ve also lived through Hurricane Fran where the wind was so strong it blew our front door open and soaked the entire living room and Hurricane Floyd where my uncles pond overflowed and crayfish crawled on Herring Road and we were without electricity for two weeks.  Still, all of my admittedly limited education and experience and first-hand knowledge were no preparation for a storm with a mind of it’s own. 

The back field where the corn maze would be after Hurricane Floyd, Sept. 1999

Where the sunflowers were last year after Hurricane Floyd, Sept. 1999.

That Saturday it rained, and rained, and rained.  I watched Facebook as people started to report water in their yards but it wasn’t until that afternoon that I realized what all this would mean.  Our biggest fear going into this was we’d miss a week of being open to deal with drying out.  We never thought we’d have the flood of the century, 19 years after the last flood of the century.  My husband is never one to stay put (especially after the lights go out).  He was riding around even at 3 or 4 that afternoon (like an idiot).  At 8 he went over to the farm.  He reported it was crazy wet, but relatively unscathed.  At 10 he went and called me with a tone of calm command.  He needed me to get ready to go out and help him, the water was up. It was still raining and the wind was blowing.  I got chilled to the bone as we rode over on the trusty Gator.  As soon as we crested the hill where the building sat I burst into tears and a chorus of "Oh My God’s".  The entire back half of the property was a rising river.  Under what is now the goat shelter we had lawnmowers and equipment parked.  We had an irrigation pump in our pond and a nurse tank slowly getting deeper in water from the swamp.  We pulled it all out with the trusty Gator.  Thank God he was antsy and decided to go check on things.  Then there was nothing to do but wait and see how high it would go (and play Skip Bo with The Boy). 

It went up about six more feet from where it was that night.  The corn was still standing.  We said a prayer and crossed our fingers when the water went down and the sun came out it would be alright. 

On Wednesday, the water began to recede.  Only then did we see the debris left behind.  Our corn maze that we’d spent countless hours planting and fertilizing and cutting out and mowing was now a hot mess.  Our neighbor had picked his corn and these huge masses and channels were now carved through our field and filled with tree branches, random trash, and two feet thick layers of corn stalks.  It didn’t matter that the corn was not blown down.  It had been mowed down by the river.  Well, now what could we do?  For two or three days I walked around in shock as we watched our community sink.  I wasn't prepared for this.  This wasn't supposed to happen.  As soon as we could stand up on the ground without miring completely we did and that first time we drove down there I cried.  This was our livelihood.  This is how we pay to keep our farm.  But, giving up isn’t something we do, so we made the best of it, took the corn maze off the schedule and cut the price, and I think in the end we pulled a decent season out of our hat.  We have the community to thank for it.  We didn't know how everyone would react with so many people having lost so much but everyone rallied.  You don't know how much we appreciated it.  We're just a little farm doing the best we can with what we have and you all make it worthwhile.

Now six months later it's easier to have better perspective.  If this is the worst that happens to us then we'll be lucky.  I can tell you this, it's going to take a few years before we plant a corn maze back there again.  We have healthy 'normal' children, each other, a dry house, and a beautiful farm to raise those kids on complete with the prettiest little river that once in a while turns into a huge destructive monster.  What more could we ask for?

Our farm path around 3 in the afternoon Hurricane Matthew came in.

The normal level of the Little River.

Our irrigation pond with the picnic area behind.

The entire back field and corn maze.

One of the channels made from the corn stalks.

Hello Again

I haven’t blogged in a really long time and I tell you, I’ve missed it.  I’ve had lots of stories but when I sit down to write I get stumped.  Maybe I’ve had writers block.  Well, all I can say is…I’m baaaack! (imagine me saying it in a sing-song voice and you’ll get the picture).

It’s spring break and we’re getting geared up for our CSA.  Yesterday we planted plants.  1000 bell pepper, broccoli, and pointed-head cabbage.  1000.  My legs are feeling it today.  I couldn’t get over the nostalgia as I did it though.  When I was little I used to stay with my grandparents when school was out.  My Uncle Pat raised tobacco back then and I remember being The Boy’s age and working in the greenhouse some during spring break wading through water an inch or two deep to help move trays of tobacco plants around so they could set them out (best job ever because I got to play in the water!).  Later, after I had a car, my sister and I helped with the setting out.  She was too young to be a super great setter, so her job was to wash the trays down with bleach.  My job was to walk behind the transplanter with a couple of plants and a peg and when the setters (my Aunt Patricia and Mrs. Brenda Scott) forgot one they’d holler to me that they missed and I’d plant that hole.  Sometimes when one of them would have something else to do I would take their place on the transplanter.  I liked that job way better for obvious reasons, until one of the last days we set.  It was cold and rainy and I sat on the back of that thing wrapped up in trash bags shaking with cold trying to set out with numb hands.  Even now I still say it was the coldest I’ve ever been.  We got a drink and a nab at 10 and 2, and an hour for lunch.  It was my first paying job and it was awesome…way better than taking it barns after the tobacco cured, which I also did, with much less success.  Hot weather and I have never gotten along well.

We didn’t ride on a transplanter yesterday.  The husband ran down the plastic with the water-wheel transplanter and punched holes in the plastic and once he went down a row he stopped and he and I and The Boy stuck plants by hand.  The Girl planted some too, because the plants were ‘so cute’ and needed homes.  But then she got distracted by lady bugs and asking constantly if she could go to grandma’s and would the ants sting her and a butterfly and picking strawberries.  Yes, we do have a few rows of strawberries.  No, unfortunately they’ll probably never produce enough for us to be open for picking.  We had to plant them so late because of The Flood that they didn’t get the root development they needed before they went into dormancy.  The way the weather was this winter (if you could call it that) didn’t help.  It was so up and down and then we had that horrible cold spell in March.  It’s turned into our personal strawberry patch, or The Girl’s strawberry buffet.  We wouldn’t have planted them at all but we didn’t plant the year before and while it was so nice to have the spring ‘off’, we missed having spring school tours.  We hoped we’d get enough to still do those and have some for the CSA, but it looks like that’s not going to happen so, Plan B.  Anyway, back to what I was talking about which was setting out plants.  While we were setting I kept thinking back to helping my Aunt and Uncle set out tobacco, and how great it was that my son was out there planting plants with us, and while we might not be taking some glamourous trip or something this spring break he was learning that hard work means something and if we work hard this spring and summer and fall maybe this winter we can take the glamourous trip.  Welcome to farm life.

I maintain that everyone ought to have to work a week on the farm.  If it does nothing else it will teach you the value of your education and an appreciation for those who choose to work with their hands (either because they have to or want too).  One of the best things it teaches is teamwork.  If we all work together towards a common goal there’s no telling what we can achieve. I can think of another place or two that concept might work…

Our poor strawberry plants.

She said "they taste like fruit punch."

The Boy is picky like me.  He said "they'd be good without the sesame seeds on them."  Bless his heart.

The sunset we were rewarded with as we prayed for rain.