This is our farm column from farmer Casey O’Neill. O’Neill is the owner operator of HappyDay Farms north of Laytonville, and a long time advocate for the cannabis community in Mendocino Co; more of his writing can be found here. The opinions expressed in this column are those of the writer. If you would like to submit a letter to the editor feel free to write to [email protected].
Thick snow blankets the landscape, muting sound and muffling edges. All is silent but for my footsteps as I make my way through morning chores in the predawn light. The snow glows and reflects from the light of my headlamp. Feed the animals and check the tunnels to confirm my impression that we didn’t get enough new snow overnight to worry about their condition, then it’s back inside to the warmth of the wood stove with tea to my left and broth to my right.
Looking out the window, I can see the icicles dripping. They’ve begun to lean back towards the house as the snow that holds them up slides down the roof in the early stages of melt. The storm has been a big one, but nothing like the trauma of snowpocalypse last winter.
A year ago we were under heavy snow, and now we find ourselves in the same predicament but with a world of difference. Though this storm was predicted to bring as much as 4 feet of snow to our elevation, it has materialized with well under 2 feet and we’re stoked. I would way rather it be this way than have more snow than predicted and be struggling with it. Our preparations were geared towards a much heavier snow, so it has been a breeze thus far.
It was a joy yesterday to arrive at the barn through the snow to find all the animals snug, dry and comfortable. Feeding was a delight, with plenty of time for scratching bellies and sitting still to observe the lambs; all four are healthy and growing well. Working with animals changes my mentality, reminding me of the appropriate speed for movement, calm and collected.
I’m so grateful for the opportunity to work with the old barn at the ranch. It has stood for a hundred years, and I imagine all of the different humans and creatures that have spent time within it. Our current configuration has sheep in the stalls on the north side, with Trap the horse in the northwest corner. Pigs are in the main aisle that runs north-south, and we pulled the chicken coop into the bay on the south side. Hay, straw, grain, tools, irrigation equipment, tractor and side-by-side all fit nicely into the big hay mow; the arrival of the snowstorm has us utilizing the barn to its fullest capacity.
Bed prep and planting has obviously ground to a halt, but I got such a good jump on things that I’m primed to get rocking again as soon as the snow melts. Before it’s gone, I’ll be able to plant 2 hoophouse beds and sow the next round of seeds, but for the interim I’m happy to catch up on paperwork, spend some time in the kitchen and do some resting and relaxing. I’ve had much less work than expected to keep snow off of hoophouses, in part because it hasn’t snowed as much and in part because I did a good job of shoring up the tunnels so that there is less danger of collapse. Nothing like a huge prediction in the forecast to make me overdo it, and though the runup to the storm was stressful, I’m reaping the benefits now as I sit comfortably by the fire.
We slaughtered three rabbits last week before the storm, and I used the giant two-burner pan to brown them while I sauteed onions, shallots and mushrooms in the cast iron on the other side of the stove. I chopped potatoes, leeks, cabbage, broccoli, carrots and turnips to throw into the pot and then covered everything with the allium-mushroom mix. Diced garlic and salt went over the top, and then I poured in a half gallon of stock to keep things moist. Three hours in the oven, cool overnight, pick the meat from the carcasses and I had fifteen or so meals of rabbit stew plus a couple of vac-bags of lunch meat for sandwiches.
The bones from the rabbits combined with chicken bones that I froze from the last two chickens we ate, made enough material to justify filling the 40 quart stockpot to make bone broth. It’s been simmering on the woodstove for 48 hours, so I’ll jar it up this morning and set the jars outside on the porch to cool in the cold weather before they go into the refrigerator. I’ve been making bone broth every two weeks or so, jarring it into half-gallon jars. Amber and I each have a big mug of it heated up in the morning, and I make a small thermos to drink during the course of the day.
I finally got around to making an herbal tea blend instead of adding the individual ingredients to the teapot each morning, so we each have a cup of tea and I have another small thermos for the day. After I drink my broth and my tea, I make half-caff coffee which I drink with breakfast and another small thermos. I laugh at myself for my three thermoses and water bottle, but I also revel in it.
It’s nice to feel calm and centered in the midst of the winter storm, and I’m glad we lucked out on the front end with howling winds and sleet but no snow accumulation until yesterday morning. Skipping the first two days of predicted heavy snowfall has made things so much better that it feels like a nice winter break instead of the expected brutal effort to keep tunnels standing. Today we’ll do some sledding and start packaging our next batch of Sour Strawberry for Farm Cut. Life is good. As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!
