It’s no secret that August sucks for farmers in our region. You’ve probably seen Instagram posts bewailing the month. For us, August is when the heat and humidity ramp up to an eleven and the roster of farm duties intensifies. Pop-up thunderstorms and erratic weather threaten to derail plans for the afternoon, or worse. The daily harvests that started in May create an incessant loop, day in and day out. Sun and heat bring out the insects and supercharge the weeds. Crops strain from the heat. When rain is scarce, the garden beds demand a more rigorous watering schedule. Just another task on the never ending list. Cultivating and weeding fall by the wayside. Our grip on the season slips.
Burnout lingers at the edge of each day, tempered by watermelon breaks and cold showers, a few beats in the shade. The look on everyone’s face says it all. August, man.
We entered August at a deficit. A summer storm destroyed all three of our structures at the end of July, leaving us to scramble, cleanup, and manage a rebuild during a historically tough month. In the blink of an eye, the perils of summer multiplied.
Meanwhile, the summer CSA boxes got packed every Friday and we arrived at market every Saturday ready to sell. The month got trickier, though. As soon as we’d get to a place that felt steady, someone would test positive for Covid and we’d have to juggle the balance of duties. One person would be out for the week, and then another right after that. The floor is lava.
In the bakery, a similar slog ensued. The market hustle kept the kitchen cranking at full speed and a labor-intensive (but timely) fundraiser helped generate some extra funds while we waited on the insurance claim for the damaged tunnels. However, a little time off for the person who works in the bakery with me became an extra week off when she returned with Covid. August is the month I learned that I can bake for two markets all by myself, albeit at the cost of sleep.
And still, August persisted––daily happenings and frustrations, important doctor’s appointments several hours away, houseguests, emails, exhaustion.
While Jamie got a jump on field work yesterday, a white truck slow-rolled to the water meter and came to a stop. I was at the dining table sipping coffee, fresh off a workout, stinking with sweat. Jamie burst through the front door, frantic. He flipped open the computer and whipped out his wallet.
“What’s going on?”
He looked at me, “The water got turned off. I forgot to pay the bill.”
Amidst all the other hubbub this month, he simply forgot. Of course, I had clothes in the wash and was just about to jump in the shower.
August, man.
ON THE FARM: We finally rebuilt the tunnels last week. It took less than a month for the turnaround, but as you read earlier, August was the longest year. We were joined by a few friends and community members (thank you Rodney, Jimmy, Ron, and Terry!) across two days to put the tunnels up. They still need to be covered with plastic, but they’re up and we’re grateful to have them back before fall season.
Despite the exhaustion of August, we’ve done some delightful things too. We harvested honey from our hives for the first time. The process was fascinating and it felt so special to stock our pantry with honey produced on the farm. More on the honey harvest and our bee mentor, Bill McCullough soon.
WHAT’S GROWING: This time of the year marks the transition from summer to fall. Trays are being seeded daily for winter crops. Fall plantings are going into the newly shaped beds, tarps are being moved, and the chaos of summer is replaced with fresh hope. Roots and leafy greens are on deck. Winter squash, too.
WHAT WE’RE EATING: Even though we lost nearly all of our tomatoes in the summer storm, we were granted an abundance of eggplant. We made a big pot of caponata with onions, garlic, shishito peppers, sour corn, and house-canned tomatoes. The pro move was folding that into a warm bowl of freekeh with fresh herbs and sheep’s milk feta.
I got on a kick with white peaches and blackberries and dumped that into pies, cobblers, and coffee cakes. The rosy combination was not only tasty, but aesthetically pleasing. A recipe for my favorite blackberry and blueberry pie published online for Garden + Gun last week too.
After pining for figs, I have finally come into a few thanks to friends who have offered to let me pick. Sadly, our young fig trees have yet to produce and it will probably be another year or so before we see any action. I’ve baked fig cornmeal scones with honeyed cream cheese, and schmeared a piece of toast with creme fraiche, ripe figs and our very own honey. Luxury!
*We’re taking a small break to recharge before the fall season and will return with more writings and recipes here. August got the best of us, but we’ll be back with new vigor and inspiration in two weeks. Thanks for reading!
Admire, respect and love your strength. You set the bar very high and it is earned so organically.