I’ve been thinking about farm names.  One day I’ll have a farm, and I want it to have the perfect name, of course.  Maybe it’s kind of like a group of musicians trying to pick out a band name, or maybe like an entrepreneur crafting the perfect name for a new business endeavor. Maybe it’s like picking a name for a new baby–sometimes the name has been chosen for years before the child is born, sometimes it takes a few days to know the baby before the perfect name arises.  I bet choosing a farm name comes in many different forms as well–how do farmers come up with them? What is the significance behind a name?

I’ve worked on a few farms: La Finca de Lapas (Parrot farm) in Costa Rica, Little Sugar River Farm in Wisconsin, Spring Creek Farm in Alaska and Sun Circle Farm in Alaska.  But what about other farms? I’ve volunteered on a few: Pioneer Produce in Alaska, Calypso Farm in Alaska, Brown Dog Farm in Alaska ,and Blue Moon Community Farm in Wisconsin.

Welcoming sign for visitors at Spring Creek Farm in alaska

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I’ve been thinking about farm names.  One day I’ll have a farm, and I want it to have the perfect name, of course.  Maybe it’s kind of like a group of musicians trying to pick out a band name, or maybe like an entrepreneur crafting the perfect name for a new business endeavor. Maybe it’s like picking a name for a new baby–sometimes the name has been chosen for years before the child is born, sometimes it takes a few days to know the baby before the perfect name arises.  I bet choosing a farm name comes in many different forms as well–how do farmers come up with them? What is the significance behind a name?

I’ve worked on a few farms: La Finca de Lapas (Parrot farm) in Costa Rica, Little Sugar River Farm in Wisconsin, Spring Creek Farm in Alaska and Sun Circle Farm in Alaska.  But what about other farms? I’ve volunteered on a few: Pioneer Produce in Alaska, Calypso Farm in Alaska, Brown Dog Farm in Alaska ,and Blue Moon Community Farm in Wisconsin.

Welcoming sign for visitors at Spring Creek Farm in alaska

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I saw a funny meme (okay…I don’t really know what a meme is…whatever) today about living in Alaska.  It has a man asking a little boy, “When does spring start?”  The little boy replies: “I live in Alaska…” with a sad look on his face, the man then tenderly hugs the boy, comforting his obvious dismay.  Well, I think spring has sprung!  The skies have been crystal clear and the temperature is rising.  Some days it’s even above freezing.  Plus, we have little to complain about compared to the brutal winter that the majority of the US faced this winter (although I’m still a bit jealous…).

BLUE skies and melting snow! Hello Spring

My father and stepmother visited two weekends ago to visit their cutey-patootie granddaughter Ava, and they were blessed with these same crystal clear, azure skies.  The mountain ranges were out in full force–they even got to lay their eyes on the behemoth Denali.  We also had beautiful views of Mount Susitna (also called The Sleeping Lady) during our drives to and from Anchorage.  There is a legend associated with this mountain that has become one of my favorite stories to share with others.

A grandfather and his new granddaughter!

Please allow me a moment to put on my story-teller cap here…

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My partner and I have a few silly arguments that we visit now and again–perhaps when we’re out to eat and the conversation is dry.  One is over the meaning of the word “milk.” He grew up on a dairy farm and insists that milk must come from a female mammal.  Any “milk” that is not animal based is not milk, it should be called juice…or something.  Soy juice?  Rice juice? No thanks….Coconut juice?  Sure! But I would expect something different from what I’d get.  My argument is that juicing something is also different than the processes used to make dairy free alternative milks.  We generally come to an impasse and move on.  Recently, he said that he would accept an alternative spelling–M-Y-L-K for the alternatives.  It works for me.

Home Made Almond Mylk: Easy and Delicious!

However, I digress…

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My partner and I have a few silly arguments that we visit now and again–perhaps when we’re out to eat and the conversation is dry.  One is over the meaning of the word “milk.” He grew up on a dairy farm and insists that milk must come from a female mammal.  Any “milk” that is not animal based is not milk, it should be called juice…or something.  Soy juice?  Rice juice? No thanks….Coconut juice?  Sure! But I would expect something different from what I’d get.  My argument is that juicing something is also different than the processes used to make dairy free alternative milks.  We generally come to an impasse and move on.  Recently, he said that he would accept an alternative spelling–M-Y-L-K for the alternatives.  It works for me.

Home Made Almond Mylk: Easy and Delicious!

However, I digress…

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“Generosity is giving more than you can, and pride is taking less than you need. ” ~Khalil Gibran

Some recent news out of Minnesota shocked me–no, it wasn’t the consistently terrible below zero weather or disastrous snowfalls (I’m actually very jealous of the snow!).  It was the news that school districts had been throwing out low income students’ hot lunches if they couldn’t pay the 40 cent reduced price lunch.  If the lunches were replaced, it was with a cheese sandwich (I’m sure the “cheese” was a far cry from the real thing), and a carton of milk.  I guess something is better than nothing…but students need much more nutrition than a highly processed sandwich and ultra pasteurized milk.  These are probably the same students who come to school without good breakfasts.  How are they expected to perform well in school if they don’t have proper nutrition?  How could this happen in my home state?

But there was other news that piggy backed with this that made me SO thankful for genuine generosity.  A tutor in Texas figured that his students were probably experiencing this same thing, and he took the solution into his own hands.  He donated about $500 to cover the outstanding balances on 60 students’ lunch accounts so they could once again receive hot lunches in their school.

So…Here’s to the Generous!

Baby Ava proclaims: “Here’s to the Generous!”

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“Generosity is giving more than you can, and pride is taking less than you need. ” ~Khalil Gibran

Some recent news out of Minnesota shocked me–no, it wasn’t the consistently terrible below zero weather or disastrous snowfalls (I’m actually very jealous of the snow!).  It was the news that school districts had been throwing out low income students’ hot lunches if they couldn’t pay the 40 cent reduced price lunch.  If the lunches were replaced, it was with a cheese sandwich (I’m sure the “cheese” was a far cry from the real thing), and a carton of milk.  I guess something is better than nothing…but students need much more nutrition than a highly processed sandwich and ultra pasteurized milk.  These are probably the same students who come to school without good breakfasts.  How are they expected to perform well in school if they don’t have proper nutrition?  How could this happen in my home state?

But there was other news that piggy backed with this that made me SO thankful for genuine generosity.  A tutor in Texas figured that his students were probably experiencing this same thing, and he took the solution into his own hands.  He donated about $500 to cover the outstanding balances on 60 students’ lunch accounts so they could once again receive hot lunches in their school.

So…Here’s to the Generous!

Baby Ava proclaims: “Here’s to the Generous!”

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Hello Farmgirls near and far!  Sorry I missed you for my previous post, but I was busy meeting the newest love of my life: Ava Maureen Wilder.  She is the best thing!  She was born eleven days past her due date on January 28 at 1:03 p.m. weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces and measuring a whopping 19 inches long.  We are pretty sure she’s a genius already, scoring 9 out of 10 on her Apgar right out of the womb.  Labor was long and laborious, but one of the first thoughts that came to my mind when it was over that I could do it 5 or 6 more times (that thought has since calmed down a bit)! The little munchkin is happily cooing and staring at her Grandma Gail right now, so come and meet her while I have a chance to write before getting drawn into staring at her beautiful babiness!

Proud mama cuddle time.

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Hello Farmgirls! The baby hasn’t come yet. I am writing this on Tuesday as I have predicted that the baby will be arriving on Wednesday the 15th (or at least making an uncomfortable fuss). It is a full moon, and just two days from the due date. But who knows?

Nesting instincts took over for part of last week, leaving me with a freezer full of delicious home cooked food, clean baby clothes, clean car, contact list for baby’s arrival, and a packed bag for the birth center. Recently, I’ve shifted to feeling more contemplative. A result of this is a letter to our future little nugget. It seemed like a necessary thing for me to do, and I’d like to share it with you all!
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Here I am, sitting in our yurt on the first day of 2014–fire roaring in the wood stove, the dog happily squeak-squeak-squeaking one of her Christmas presents, Evan reading a trashy Steven King novel on the couch, and me wearing new slippers. We just got back from watching the newest Hobbit movie in 3D. It might be our last chance to go to a movie at the theater without making babysitting arrangements for a LONG time. All in all, I’d say this is a great first day of 2014, and I’m sure it’s the first of many more to come (and I’m sure it will be miles better than a few of them are apt to be!).

While 2013 proved to be a year of numerable life changes (attaining my graduate degree, building and moving to a new home, getting pregnant), obstacles successfully hurdled (writing a thesis, struggling to accept that a “dream” job I had taken wasn’t the right fit), and experiences learned from (more farming and teaching!); I have to admit that I’m glad it is over. It was stressful yet empowering, it was fast-paced yet fulfilling, and it was mutable yet grounding. The good came with the bad and vice versa…so yes, I’m totally okay with saying, “Sayonara 2013, hello 2014!! Out with the old and in with the new!”

Hello Beauty Full. The baby’s crib. Don’t worry, baby won’t be sleeping with any of this stuff.

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