Frog Log

When I was a sophomore at Northwestern University, I joined the college radio station. The airwaves of WNUR probably reached not much farther than the next dorm, but I still got a kick out of being in the broadcast booth and talking into the microphone.The downside was that fledgling DJ's were constrained to playing music only from the "easy listening" category. Every week before my show I would thumb hopefully through the designated shelf of LP's, (yes, I'm dating myself), only to find variations on Mitch Miller and/or the Swingle Singers (okay, I'm really dating myself!). I would sigh, make a few selections and hand them to my engineer as I headed into the booth. Now this was a time when in the music world, the British Invasion was in full swing. In the political world, the Civil Rights movement was cresting with "Women's Lib" not far behind. Folks headed to San Francisco with flowers in their hair (got the date yet?). I knew no one was listen...

Yessirree, the Farmers Market is very green in the month of December! The greens, however, as you may have guessed, are not edible. Almost the entire front section is filled with holiday wreaths, table arrangements, and decorations made from evergreens, embellished with seasonal ribbons and sparkle. It looks very colorful and festive and I saw smiling customers walking away with unique arrangements, created by an extended farming family in their "off time". It was a biting cold Saturday and I cruised quickly along the aisles in search of apples and cider. Many farmers had constructed little 3-sided tents to hold a bit of the heat generated by their propane heaters. In the old days, the heaters were called "salamanders"; they were fueled with kerosene, which made a nasty and ominous black smoke when something was about to go awry. Yes, I speak from experience. If you have been reading carefully, I assume you are about to ask: why would a heater be called a salamander...

Nov. 22, Thanksgiving. Yesterday, last market. Today, first snow. A finality to the season, as the winter winds blow. Yet farmers have faith; farmers believe. So we covered the lettuce from tonight's chilling freeze. Because, well, you know, you never can tell, We just might get another warm spell! Then we'll snip up a batch of our greens and lettuce And give all our friends salad mix for Christmas!

I have a friend whose birthday is on Halloween. I'm not sure if it's a bonus or a deficit to share your birthday with an established holiday. There might be some extra expectations that just can't be met. F'rinstance, Ken has no choice but to share his birthday with St. Patrick's Day and a less Irish persona you never could meet. Nonetheless, much to his disinterest if not distaste, leprechauns and four-leaf-clovers keep showing up in his birthday cards; green beer jokes keep rearing their ugly heads. But for Tom, the Halloween birthday kind of works. He's a jack o'lantern smiley kind of guy who doesn't seem to mind sharing his limelight with one of America's more whimsical holidays. All the extra candy around doesn't hurt for a little extra birthday bonus. So what's Tom doing in the Frog Log? Well, after retiring from an intense career in commercial construction, Tom decided to slow down and dedicate a good portion of many days to the activi...

Twice a season, once very early in the Spring, and again very late in the Fall. Never easy or convenient, we pay penance to circumvent Mother Nature. In the garden we proceed solemnly down the rows, two by two, diaphanous white fabric billowing between our outstretched hands. A slow and deliberate cadence assures the fabric will unroll evenly, and placement of the cocoon-like material must be careful and precise; there is no gain in hurrying at this critical moment. As the filmy blankets waft down onto each leafy row, a rhythmic scraping sound follows: shovel in dirt, dirt tossed onto edge of fabric. And again. And again. Down the rows and back again, sealing cloth to earth. Row by row, we proceed on faith -- doing the most we can to protect the crops, accepting that it may not be enough. October 28, 2007 -- hard freeze tonight.

On Sept.26, our good friend and Farmer's Market neighbor, got busted. John Savanna, of Mill Pond Bakery,was told by a State of Michigan health inspector to take all of his unwrapped bread off of the market stall, and to destroy it by squirting dish soap all over it. The story made the front page of the Ann Arbor News and was followed up by Letters to the Editor from incensed Ann Arbor consumers that were 100 per cent in support of John. The News said that was a rarity; the follow-up letters are always mixed. So the story has received a lot of attention and I won't go into it any further. Read the Frog Log from May 25 for more about John's journey toward righteous bread-baking. Or better yet, eat some of John's bread. Yes, he is still selling bread at the market, but it all has to be bagged and he can only supply half of what he used to bake, as he needs so much time to bag the bread. So get a hunk of that bread. And a hunk it is. It's heavy, hearty and rich brown. ...

Years ago, an acquaintance of mine started a newsletter. It was a fine little four or six-page newsletter, but the editor's column seemed to regularly dwell on how difficult it was to publish the newsletter. After reading various versions of this complaint, I found myself thinking, "Well, we didn't ask you to start this newsletter; it was your idea!" Okay, last month (August), we decided to celebrate our 35 years on the farm with a two-day festival called Holler fest. The fest is now one week away and there is a lot to do -- a lot to do. And we have already done a lot. It has been way more work than we anticipated, but then we would never have decided to do it if we had known how much work it would be! I know, you didn't ask us to hold a music festival; it was our idea. One of the abiding pleasures of being a family farm is working with my sons. One day, not long ago, we were stuck in the greenhouse transplanting hundreds, maybe more than a thousand, tiny let...