Stray Sunflowers

Late yesterday afternoon as I walked past the Zucchini patch on my way home my thoughts jumped around as fast as the grasshoppers on the dirt in front of me. It seemed like at the same time that I was gratefully thinking about my wonderful plight of being married to a farmer and living in such a quiet place I was looking at the zucchini and wondering how soon it would start harvesting and thinking that it'd be great to eat supper on the lawn. Pretty unrelated and random eh?
As I walked through the trees into our yard I suddenly spotted two beautiful dwarf sunflowers tucked in beside a bushel basket that I'd left laying on the rocks from weeding a rose bed at least a month ago. It seemed like they had literally popped up out of nowhere - in an instant. Intellectually I know it wasn't instant - because instant and plants dont really belong in the same wagon. It just seemed that way. Their brilliant and seemingly sudden appearance swerved my thinking to ponder their story as I went inside to chop onions and sweet potato greens for supper.

In late April of 2007 our daughter Kymbrelee, and son-in- law-to-be, Immian, decided that they wanted to have their July first wedding on our lawn. Our yard was just barely waking up after the last frost and according to the calendar we had about 67 days till the wedding. I grabbed the Johnnys catalogue and looked for fast color. Marigolds and Dwarf Sunflowers were among my top picks. I did an expedited order and we began planting. Thankfully, true to the genetic make up of the seeds - the yard was in full bloom ready for a romantic wedding by the evening of July one.

The sunflowers were incredible. The striking effect of hundreds of beaming sunflowers bordering our expansive green lawn was perfect. Their plump yellow faces were a bright contrast to the more delicate petunias and the splashy marigolds. But in spite of their tremendous impression on us that summer, I've never planted them again.

I am crazy about flowers. My therapy is to plant them, weed them, pick them, and spend quiet time in my yard so I can enjoy them and the gazoodles of butterflies and hummingbirds they attract. My flowers nourish my soul. But since the farm claims most of my time planting and tending my flowers has to fit in the left over cracks. So I choose flowers that will give me beauty for the longest time. Sadly, sunflowers do not meet those criteria. But in spite of the fact that I've never planted them again since that summer, every year I get a few persistant volunteers popping up here and there in our yard. And sometimes in the most unlikely places! Those two were growing in rocks on top of a weed barrier where there wasn't even regular irrigation! Perhaps a bird or the wind or both had dropped the seeds there where they lay dormant until one day the conditions must've been perfect for those two little seeds to germinate, grow and burst forth in those flamboyant blooms that fed my soul as I hurried into the kitchen to make supper for my hungry family.

It suddenly sobered me to realize the long lasting impact of the things that I allow into my mind. A scene from a movie, the lyrics to a song, a talk show host's comments, a magazine article, and much more are seeds getting tossed onto the soil of my mind. At some point given the right conditions they will spring up into more thoughts, words, or actions. The harvest will depend on the type of seed planted but it will happen.

That evening as we lingered around our weathered picnic table I sat back and basked in the glow of the tiki torches and the buzzing conversations of the bugs and of us. As our conversation bobbed from the health benefits of sweet potato greens to Bella's penchant for fresh juicy tomatoes to why opposites attract and whether or not that really works in marriage my mind strayed back to my musings on my way past the zucchini patch and how truly blessed I was to live on a farm and be constantly surrounded by the workings of nature and be immersed in wholesome hard farm work. It's the kind of life that leaves you so bone weary at the end of the day that quiet evening conversations with family and close friends are more exciting and meaningful than an amusement park or a thriller movie. It makes you learn to see gold in the dirt under your fingernails and in the inconvenience of getting drenched by a popped irrigation hose. And best of all, every day in almost every corner of the farm there are cause and effect lessons to learn about the deep things of life. The seriousness and depth of the lessons keeps a person grounded in the real things that make up the very substance of life. Today a couple of stray sunflowers were my teachers.




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Bella

So this is our third year to grow watermelons and a myriad of other shapes, sizes, varieties, and flavors of melons. I love melons! And at the immense risk of sounding like I've got an ego the size of one, I'm going to say that we grow amazing watermelons. Really though, we can't take all the credit - it's just a great combination of our cool nights contrasted by sunny hot days, good choices of seed varieties, careful veganic organic growing practices, and most of all the blessing of God. Back to the melons. To put it in Chuck's words - he's the produce manager at AJs in Scottsdale - he says we grow “dynamite melons."

This year we have encountered a new challenge to our quest of getting our "dynamite" melons onto people's tables - coyotes. They love the thrill of eating fresh juicy watermelons on a moonlight night. Truth be told, they eat them whether the moon is out or not. It seems that just as fast as they ripen, the coyotes eat them.

This season, knowing we were starting our FarmBox program, we intentionally planted small succession plantings of “Little Baby Flower” watermelons. They are bursting with intense watermelon flavor and are just the right size for FarmBoxes. And boy oh boy, do the coyotes ever love them! And better yet, they love it that we have planned a steady supply for them all summer long. Sigh.

Recently it dawned on us that perhaps our issue is that late last summer Andy, our beloved Redbone Coonhound of many years and Cheetah, Grandpa and Grandma’s Great Pyrenese, both died. Perhaps the absence of big dogs on the farm was creating an open invitation to our Coyote Watermelon Bar. So we decided that perhaps we needed to find another big dog to join the farm. Aimee spent an entire afternoon in Tucson visiting with dozens of eager dogs at the Pima Animal Shelter. Bit by bit she narrowed her choices down till finally she settled on Bella.

Bella really caught Aimee’s attention because she seemed to be exceptionally intelligent and observant. In addition she had remarkable people skills, and good manners with the other dogs. Only Bella knows her full story and why she was there, but the sketchy information that the shelter was able to provide is that she is a 9 month old German Shepherd that a friend of the owner had dropped off. So we adopted Bella. Right from the start, Bella seemed to be immensely grateful to have been chosen to be a member of the family. She is poised, beautiful, loving, and obedient and has been trying very diligently to learn all the family rules and we already love her.

There is only one ironic flaw to our happily ever after story. Last Friday morning Bella came out with Byron and me to the watermelon patch to survey the night’s Coyote damage. Imagine our surprise when she started eagerly gobbling up the remains of partially eaten watermelons. That was a little disconcerting. Then picture our shocked dismay, when she moved over and selected a nice melon still growing on the vine and proceeded to start to nibble on it! Thankfully, “Bella, no!” was all Byron had to say and she happily went back to the half eaten ones. I stood there, my jaw hanging down while Byron broke out in gut busting laughter. I should have known that would be Byron’s response to this latest turn in our quest to save the melons. If there is one thing I love about him, it is his ability to think the best of every person and every situation. “Well,” he said after his laughter subsided, “She may not save the melons but we sure do have a swell new pet out of the deal.”

The question remains, “Will Bella do her job and keep our melon patch safe from the coyotes?” We don’t know yet. But like my husband, I think that for now, I better choose to think the best of this ironic situation and of our delightful new family member, Bella.



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Location:E Gaskill Rd,Willcox,United States

The Harvest

This week we acquired a new farmhand. I'm going to call him Hank. I'm actually not sure if he CHOSE to come here or was sent by well meaning family. There are lots of good reasons to send a seventeen year old city kid to the farm. I started noticing them pretty quickly. We were out in the squash patch harvesting acorn squash and a brewing late afternoon thunderstorm was fueling my box filling pace. I quickly became aware that I was filling two boxes for every one box that my lanky teenage harvest partner was filling. Now I'd like to be able to say with a swagger that at age fifty one I can outdo a strapping seventeen year old in the squash patch. But I'll just be straight up and say that in reality he was just greener than green. I don't even think that he noticed the glowering clouds much less put clouds and thunder together to equal storm arriving soon. I tried to help him understand the concept but instead of translating into increased speed it only provided him with fascinating conversation material.

Each time Aimee came roaring down the row in the muddy green Gator to pick up another load of bulging bushel boxes he found new excuses for diversion. "Hey Aimee, maybe I should ride back to the warehouse with you to help unload the boxes". "Hey Aimee if you're tired of driving I can drive for you"

Suddenly on one of her fly bys, she dropped off Jonathan. He hit the ground running - literally. As I watched him fill up boxes on the run, take flying leaps over the rows to rescue left behind squash, and dive under the leaves as he flew by to sleuth out elusive squash I was amazed. And suddenly my mind shifted gears and backed up 10 months to the day Jonathan had arrived.

He showed up with smooth white hands, perfect fingernails, a pale face, and an insatiable appetite for socializing and laughter. I couldn't for anything figure out how he could make it on a farm. Back then, the mere thought of him becoming invaluable would've made my eyes roll. It seemed like every job I gave him took way longer than I thought it should. It seemed like his mouth moved faster than his four limbs combined. He got depressed if he had to do solitary tasks and when he was doing groupy tasks his hands usually stopped so that his mouth could function at top speed. He'd easily kill baby plants by forgetting to water them or absently overwatering them and he regularly did tasks opposite to the instructions just because he forgot or got distracted. A farming career for him seemed like a guaranteed crop failure.

So now as I hurried to catch up to him enough to at least breathe in some of the dust in the wake of his efficient productivity, I began to ponder. Why did he seem like a such a natural leader as he hurried us along by his example and his energetic comments? Clearly today he is invaluable to our farm. What had suddenly happened? Or was it sudden?

Farming changes you. While tough callouses form on your hands they melt off your spirit making you see miracles in baby lettuce plants and awakening in your heart a deep seated longing to cooperate with the Creator in this process called growing - growing good food for people - real people.

As the sun gradually gives your skin that ruddy look that city slickers call a farmer's tan your instincts get ripened and deepened to pay attention to subtle things that city slickers don't even notice like the difference between a melon aphid and a potato aphid.

While you learn the art of painstakingly raking a raised growing bed smooth you unlearn expectations for instant results.
And just as the germinating seed teaches you patience the seemingly suddenly ripe crop of orange honeydew - that everyone is waiting for - on a day that was already full to the brim with harvesting and planting, weeding and watering - pushes you beyond what you thought were your physical limits to get it harvested at its peak and sent out to the people who are counting on you for food - real food.

The longer you farm and the more mis-steps you experience the more indelible becomes the urgency of timing. There's a right time to seed, to water, to weed, to harvest, and just as imporant is the time to deliver. The sense of urgency at each stage seers itself into a farmer's instincts making him count his steps and minutes as if they were gold. And gold they truly are. The wisest man who ever lived said that, "The king himself is served by the field" Ecc 5:9

As I pondered I realized that while Jonathan thought he was just planting, weeding, watering, tending, and harvesting crops those very crops were working a slow but steady transformation of him. An abundant harvest was happening. His fields were serving him.

Suddenly my thoughts were yanked back to the present. Hank was actually running! We were done and as he loped by me and plunked himself down on the tail of the Gator so he could catch a ride home - he waved his arms around regaling us with his tales of the afternoon. His beaming ear to ear grin reminded me that another harvest will be coming; just be patient.



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Of Farmers and Chefs...

On the first Friday of April four of Phoenix's best chefs hung out with us in our kitchen swapping tales over bright red and orange tomatoes, crispy cucumbers, colorful peppers, petite heirloom lettuce, and homemade sprouted kamut bread. It would’ve been clear to any of the local bugs and critters that we weren't making any pretentions of elegance – in fact since we’d just harvested the veggies and all come home together after our windy late morning hike around the farm I handed them my not so professional knives and just like regular farm hands they pitched in and washed and prepared the veggies for our “build your own” open faced sandwiches while I set out the strawberry smoothies and other sandwich fixings.

Last Sunday evening I gazed at my very most favorite (and only) husband as he settled into the expansive leather armchair across from me in the Talovera at the Four Seasons Scottsdale. Suddenly I had the sense that this romantic anniversary dinner was about to astound me with an array of contrasts to the simple farm fare we enjoyed the last time we had shared a meal with Chef Jesse Hansen.


The spicy but not too spicy grilled salsa handcrafted with our Sunizona tomatoes and served with crisp local Arizona tortilla chips was the first taste sensation of the evening.


When Andre brought us glasses of cucumber infused tomato water, my skeptical nature wondered how THAT combination would work. But the crisp sparkling flavor immediately won my confidence and convinced me that I had to figure out how to replicate it back at the farm! Thankfully on one of Jesses’ frequent trips to our table to visit with us and regale us with the innovative methods he uses to create his food masterpieces he shared the secret.

We farmers are noted for our self sufficiency but Susan and Andre’s disarming friendliness and careful attention to serving us with amazing finesse and style, deftly wiping up even the slightest condensation from our water goblets, and noting exactly when we finished one course and needed empty dishes removed or goblets refilled was enough to make even the stoutest of us melt and be pampered. And we did just that.



The dinner reminded me of attending a great concert. The courses and dishes created from fresh nutrient rich vegetables grown on our farm and other local farms followed one another in succession to our table - their beauty and elegant simplicity always equalling or outdoing the previous rendition and delighting our eyes and tastebuds alike.


Watching Jesse's face light up as he spoke about sourcing fresh local ingredients and the artistic techniques he uses to skillfully harmonize them into his culinary creations reminded me so much of the passion I see in my husband when he talks about growing and plants and teaching young people how to farm.

For desert - peach pie - we moved out onto the patio and as we enjoyed the approaching thunderstorm and the musky scent of the creosote bushes heavy in the air, I realized again the brilliance of local farmers and chefs teaming up to make it possible for people like us to enjoy unforgetable romantic evening dinners.

Thanks Jesse and team for an evening to remember!


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Figs and Change...

Today I picked a plump purple fig from our beginner fig orchard. Hmmm... do 12 trees make an orchard? Back to the fig. In an extravagant impulse I popped it in my mouth instead of in the basket. As the sweet richness melted in my mouth, reminiscing thoughts began to traipse through my mind. What am I doing picking figs? How did our farm change from being a mono crop hydroponic greenhouse growing hothouse cucumbers to sell to unemotional brokers for whatever they felt like paying even if it was less than what it cost us to pick and pack them - to today? And what does today look like?

Today we grow little bits of a myriad of different things - like potatoes that beg to be eaten without butter, sharp garlic that commands the other veggies to stand at attention, watermelon that surprises you with its brilliant orange flesh, and the fledgling fig orchard that got this whole reverie going. We also grow larger bits of things like tomatoes that make you argue about who grew them, and cucumbers that insist on leaving their tender green jackets on. And instead of shipping it all to one or two far away brokers orders get pieced together like great grandma's shopping list and sent out to a long list of friendly involved produce managers, artisan chefs, and even right into people's kitchens through our FarmBox program.

It's been a journey of change marked by remarkable milestones. Viruses known and unknown destroyed crops, anger prompted the owner of a jug of Roundup to utilize it's lethal liquid in our greenhouse, our passion for farming but lack of natural and cultivated skill in business sprouted poor decisions and practices, devastating fires halted plans, and Monsanto's greedy move to control the greenhouse vegetable seed companies have all been major players in the painfully joyful transformation of this farm.

Change doesn't come easily neither does trust. But we've learned that all things do work together for the good of those who've chosen to follow God. We're committed to following and we have found Him more than faithful to that timeless promise. We are deeply thankful for the journey and for the change... and for the figs.




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Good Neighbors

Recently I came to the conclusion that our farm had a lot in common with Southwest Airlines. Now before you discount my unusual theory - listen to my story. The saga began back in early May. It was late at night and I was trying to get one last item checked off my "to do" list before sleep overtook me: booking tickets to my neice's wedding.

 Well sadly - probably because I was tired - I booked a ticket for Byron but completely forgot to book my companion pass. Yes - I have a companion pass that lets me fly FREE with my husband everytime he flies. How cool is that?! You just have to remember to book the ticket.

 Fast forward to 6 am June 23. We show up at the airport excited to be going up north to see family and imagine our shock when we find out that I had forgotten to book a companion pass for myself. Translate: there was no ticket for me. Normally that wouldn't pose a problem since it's a free ticket that can be booked anytime. Oops not normal. The flight was sold out! Just as panic was setting in, the ticket agent did the golden rule magic that we've come to love about Southwest, and in the blink of an eye she had changed my husband to the next flight and booked me a seat on it with him. I can tell you that ANY other airline - if they were even willing to attempt such a daring act - would've charged diamond studded cancellation and re booking fees.  She should've admonished me never to forget again - but instead she apologized that we had to go on a flight 30 min later than planned.

On the flight I was reflecting on the hoops she had jumped through to make it effortless for us to fly in spite of my careless neglect to do the obvious - book a ticket.  Suddenly I had an epiphany - Southwest Airlines is in business to help people go places - easily. While other airlines quibble over suitcases and hand out change and cancellation fees like lollipops Southwest just rolls up it's sleeves and says,  "Hey grab your bag and hop on. Since we're already going that way we can just drop you off."

 And that's our goal too. You see we are passionate about growing food veganically. So we figure we better just grow some extra for you too and while we're at it make it easy for you to get it - like in a FarmBox or at your local Whole Foods. And last but not at all least we figure that eating right should be deliciously affordable. After all, isn't that what neighbors are for?


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Mothers Day Strawberries

On Mothers day I was delighted to be able to take care of David and Hope's children while they went on a little date.

We had a lot of fun together. We worked in my flower garden, picked lettuce, and picked fat juicy strawberries. After carefully carrying the produce home, the kids played with Legos while I got the strawberries prepped for our little food adventure. After I got a pan of carob chips melted and all the components lined up on the island, I dipped a couple of strawberries - they looked beautiful! Next, I got the eager kids set up on stools so they could help. Wow - they went at it with gusto. Carob was flinging everywhere! I learned that I was much more concerned with the visual appeal of carob dipped strawberries than they were!

In spite of our differences in expectations we struck a delicious compromise and soon there were two plates of plump juicy strawberries peeking out from lumpy carob coats. After the carob hardened in the fridge for a bit, we packaged some up and wrapped them with ribbons for them to give to their mommy for Mother's day.

 Later that evening, after the kids went home, we enjoyed a simple home grown meal with Byron's folks. We ended the meal with creatively dipped delicious strawberries.  I was reminded again that love is the best ingredient it for most recipes. Happy Mothers Day!

Long ago, when our children were very young, I wrote a little song for children called "One Step At A Time". Ever since then, that has been a bit of a family saying for us... and over the years it has applied to and continues to ring true for countless experiences... One of our latest developments here on the farm, that is taking myriads of tiny steps towards becoming a reality, is starting what we call our FarmBox program. This will enable us to ship a box of produce direct to people here in Arizona just as often as they choose to order it.

For the last several years we have felt privileged to be able to sell direct to the Whole Foods and New Frontiers and lots of restaurants here in Arizona... And now it is exciting for us to think of having an even more direct connection with the people who eat our food.

Pictured here, is Evan, our FarmBox manager as he takes photos of the produce so that it can be pictured on our on-line webstore. It is a pretty big undertaking to get all the logistics ironed out that you can easily hop on line and order a FarmBox from us. But we are just bursting with hope that it will be something that you will enjoy just as much as us.

Trust, me all worthwhile things take "One Step At A Time"... even a Sunizona Family FarmBox!

mmm.... Lettuce!!

I just love this time of year! The weather is lovely and warm and we’re starting to transplant some of the seedlings into the field. Pretty soon our farm will be transformed with the fresh brilliancy of lush green crops.
One of our crops I’ve been enjoying especially much lately is our romaine lettuce. The heads are big & bushy, tender, sweet & crispy all at the same time. Just the other day I made a delicious green smoothie for our lunch by blending one head of the lettuce with one whole pineapple – it was exquisite. And of course it was good for us too! Romaine lettuce is a good source of many important nutrients including folic acid, several vitamins, and it even has fiber while giving you almost no calories.
Oh, and one other quick note – lettuce is listed as one of the “Dirty Dozen” in produce (in other words, it is one of the 12 foods that has the highest levels of pesticides on it & is recommended to buy organic). When you think that it doesn’t have a skin that can be peeled off or can protect it – like say a banana – it makes sense that all those leaves are being exposed to & collecting the pesticide chemicals. Yikes… Makes me so glad that our lettuce is both organic & veganic!!

In the picture:
Young romaine in the foreground, then mature in the background
Chives & also Lolla Rossa lettuces on right
Peas in bloom on left

Another organic milestone...

Today marks another milestone in our organic growing - now our salad house is certified organic too! That means that every part of our farm is certified organic. In the past, only our field crops & tomatoes were certified organic as we were still trying to come up with a way to grow our salads veganically. But now after many long months of researching & testing, we have come up with a system that will work, and though I'm sure we will have more learning curves ahead, we're excited for the progress & that now all of our products are certified organic and veganic!