Who Wants Trident? (I do, I do!)

Being fairly snowed in for much of the winter has forced Mark and I to get to know the neighborhood a bit at The Beach House. We're really getting to know our backyard neighbor as of late. You might have heard of him. His name is Poseidon. Call him Neptune if you'd like. Poseidon has brought us plenty of gifts to make us feel welcome, like the busted up green plastic tub pictured here:
Just lovely. Other gifts have included a 3' x 2' chunk of orange foam insulation, and an array of fashionable buoys. (They're all the rage with the Joneses on our beach). How fortunate we are to have such a generous neighbor. Mark is quite fond of spotting new offerings through his binoculars and daring me to dash out in my PJs to receive them formally. Being the gullible dork that I am, I tend to oblige. I mean, a gift is a gift!

Well, over the weekend, our tides turned in the literal sense, when we noticed that Poseidon cooked up one hell of a freezing sea storm and made off with OUR STAIRS! Mark's Mom had commented the week prior that she didn't like the looks of our stairs, but apparently Poseidon did. I'm sure they've been bestowed upon some nice couple in Connecticut.

So until we get around to building a (retractable) ladder, we have a lovely platform diving board for all of you polar bear types out there. Thanks, Poseidon. No really, you shouldn't have.

One Year Down, One Lifetime to Go

This being our first anniversary and all, my partner in crime and I would like to thank our amazing family and friends, near and far, for making our wedding day such a delicious and lovely affair.

We consider ourselves truly lucky folk to have such talented, caring and generous people in our lives.

Now, who wants cannoli?

Oh, Nine.

I spent the first day of this new year in a way. I was up to my ankles in slushy snow, harvesting kale, broccoli and cauliflower. I could hear ice melting down the rows, making a really freaky chattering sound. I could see thousands of starlings mobbing and swarming the boughs of the trees along the field's edge. I'm sure that there was a stray chicken someplace nearby (there is ALWAYS a stray chicken), but for two solid hours, I was the only person within a half mile of where I stood. What with all of the nature sounds, solitude, communion and all that, I was feeling downright reflective, thinking over the year that had just gone by. 2009 was HUGE, a year of many firsts, that's for sure. Wrote a blog about it. Like to hear it? Here'goes.

I kicked things off in January by getting married to this guy I met...eight years ago. His name is Mark Green, and if I tell you how wonderful he is, he will be embarrassed. He now has a wife named Katie Green, and 363 days later, she still can't sign her name correctly. Should'a practiced more. After getting married to my very first husband , I took my first trip to Vermont, where I met two new loves--wood-fired ovens and water buffalo yogurt. After our Maple Syrup was confiscated by security at the Burlington Airport, we made our way back to Long Island, newlywed and well fed.

As Winter came to a close, my Dad passed away. I won't say much, but I will say that his passing was a strong reminder of how much I hope to do with this life of mine. Soon thereafter, my Mom came out East for a vacation. I took her on her first trip to Vermont, where we were lucky enough to experience our very first salamander migration. It was awesome.

Months went by, and I started to feel like I was running circles inside of a barrel that was headed for Niagara. On one hand, the farm I'd called my home away from home was doing better than ever. On the other, I wasn't. So, I decided it was time to leave my job with Satur Farms at the end of August. I wasn't sure what life would look like, but I knew that I needed to shake what was weighing on me. Right around my 28th birthday, the deer who jumped out in front of my car decided that my first head on collision ought to do the trick. I said goodbye to my first car, which as folklore would have it was my aunt's first new car.

I forgot to mention that in 2009, Mark Green learned to drive tractor. You might not realize what important Philosophical training this is. In early Spring, Mark began working at Garden of Eve one day a week, repairing and transplanting things. My very first husband, as it turns out, looks better in overalls than I do.

In the Fall, after a wonderful visit with my families, I too found myself in the field at Garden of Eve, doing things that I never dreamed I might--things that otherwise terrified me. I drive trucks now--big trucks with trailers attached to the backs of them. I cavort with all sorts of animals, from giant dogs to tiny goats. I raised turkeys in my backyard. I help maintain a beehive. I can lift nearly half of my weight, repeatedly. Deciding in your late twenties that you might want to farm might sound a bit capricious. As my uncle likes to say, "Good thing they've got all those college degrees between the two of them." But let me tell you, I've learned that you can sort out a lot of stuff when you're picking string beans. Farming, I should add, is humbling work. But, it does me well. I'm a stone lighter than I was just a year ago, and I have my peace of mind most days. For farming, my family, my friends and my very first husband who looks cute in overalls, I am super grateful this year.