We Stay Until We're Done

Walking through the soft, melting snow of Bickford Woods Rd. I trudge along with another curious sugarer, Beth. An abandoned sugar shack awaits us just down the noll. How long has this shack been out of comission we wonder? The entire shack itself has a lean that most people wouldn't dare go inside, but crusasders like me and Beth felt we had a calling. An evaporator the size of King Kong extends a good 20 feet if not more along a cord of beautifully aged, dry wood. The boiling pans turned over as if they were closing off the stove. Looking around we find a newspaper from 1983 with an article about Ronald Regan. (Not the actor, the president.) After venturing outside we find the old logging/sugaring road. It starts just at a rotting gate and looks downward on a clear pathway to and beyond the sugar shack with maples on both sides. It looks as if it would have been a piece of cake to run this trail with oxen or horses. Maples that have to be at least forty years old tower over you head like skycrapers. Most of them look like something out of a Tim Burton/Sleepy Hollow flick. You can identify an old tap, but it's nothing but a tiny piece in the bark. The tree has entirely healed itself since the last year it was tapped. This property feels like buried treasure to me. Something I could only dream of ever owning or having a piece of. You can feel the presence of the sugarers that were heading up this operation and hear the roar of the flames that scorched this stove.

This past weekend D Acres and I hosted a workshop on the sugaring process here at Dorchester. At one point there were at least 25 people following me around, collecting sap and trying to fit in a sugar shack made for no more than three people. A day in the shack is a test of one's personal endurance, as I tried to explain to our guests. There were a few that came back around, but it was Kip and Veronica who stuck it out to the very end. Their enthusiasm made the process that much more rewarding. All in a days boil, 17 hours later, I am down to approximately 2 gallons of sap left. Just enough to bring into the house and start the morning off with the smell of maple syrup in the air. I make some billini's with frozen raspberries from our garden and get to taste one of the first batches I did. So far we're at the three gallon mark, with 50 more gallons of sap waiting for me to boil down tomorrow. Somebody asked me how long we would be in the shack for. I told them our motto is "we stay until we're done." There is no other job in the world that I have felt more satisfied completing than sugaring.

Peace out y'all. coolio (see you in the shack)

Sorting Out Life Plans(subconsciously) While Sorting Trash

It was perhaps three or four years ago when I met Josh Trought and was first introduced to the idea of this place called D ACRES. The Scene was the MOFGA common ground fair. I signed up to volunteer for composting and recycling team. Josh did too. Although I can’t recall all the details interesting conversation sure sparks up when digging through the aftermath of fairgoers.
Since that time D ACRES has continued to come up in my life in many forms and now here I am interning and participating in this community. Feels incredible to say the least.
For the past two years I’ve been living in Seattle and as a New Hampshire native I can’t think of a better way to reconnect with this state/New England culture. It’s good to be back in these woods! The North East forest offers such a diversity of plants, which I’ve been quizzing myself on walking around the D ACRES trails. And of course another perk of being in these woods at this time of year is maple syrup. I’ve been involved with two boils here in our ol’ sugar shack. The sugar shack is a vortex where time has no relevance. A welcomed vortex. I’m looking forward to the sugaring workshop tomorrow, which I’ll be helping Neil out with. Please come on by!
Although it’s early on in this experience I'll leave you with some things that come to mind: playing music, learning how to make bread, frozen compost, hearty kale, hearty spinach, hazing from the oxen , snow melting, thinking like water, cobb oven, slowing down, finding things in a new kitchen, seeing stars again, inspiration all around.
Feels good.
Happy Spring,
Beth

Heat

Woo. 46 degrees F feels pretty good. The other day I walked outside with a shovel for the first time in 4 months to dig into the ground instead shoveling snow. With several feet of snow stocked up all melting at once, water suddenly becomes the next obstacle – a refreshing obstacle. Mud Season. Digging shallow trenches to redirect water away from the blacksmith shop is a joy. Not only am I keeping the water and occasional ice from invading the shop, but I'm also having the opportunity to think like water and earth. It’s all so loose and flexible – attributes I’m trying to strengthen in myself. I’ve been tying to distinguish wants from needs, and trying to let go of “wants” that aren’t beneficial as much as I can. This is tricky business in some ways. Sometimes I short myself and try without a need on accident – and things build up inside of me, much like the water in the trenches that is stuck in a concave area. Eventually the water spreads and deepens as more rushes in without an outlet, creating a large puddle, until it either spills over the concave area and finds a route down hill or soaks into the ground. It creates an obstacle for farm operations – making life for everyone a tiny bit more difficult. And when I have my personal “build-ups” I think it becomes an obstacle for the 9 other people I’m living and working besides every day. To help resolve this, I want to take better care of myself, or at least be more careful with digging trenches to relieve my “build-ups” so people don’t have another obstacle to work around, or get their feet wet in. Peoples’ energy is contagious and I want to contribute more to positive energy.

Anyway, enough with my attempts with a hippy-dippy analogy. I’m psyched about the blacksmith shop this year. I’m giving 3 introductory workshops in April; two of which will be three day sessions. Then on May 2nd my neighbor and friend, Rob Hudson, who is probably the most skilled blacksmith I’ve ever met (ranked best knife maker in the world in 1999) will be giving a workshop on how to make a fire poker while delving into the history of iron ore and how blacksmiths have been utilizing it for thousands of years. On top of that, Ralph Sproul from Iron Bear Forge, who is also a highly skilled blacksmith with a deep and all round handyman mentality might be coming up with a portable set-up to ad another workstation for participants as well as assist and be a resource of vast mechanical knowledge.

On top of the group workshops I’ve been doing a lot of private lessons on a weekly basis. Last weekend I had three separate lessons - two boys who are 13 and another who is 15. I see in their eyes what I feel when I’m looking at a hot piece of iron. Excitement and Possibilities! I’m always fascinate by what students come up with to make. Steel is definitely a route for some people’s genius to come out. I swear there is some sort of blacksmith gene. When thinking about all of the people I’ve shown the craft to or demonstrated for, one out of ten are wholly fascinated by it. There’s something very mystical about it. Glowing hot iron is out of this world - unlike any material the vast majority of people get to experience in a life time. When hot, it is elegant, fluid, and malleable. As it cools it gradually becomes harder and tougher to work, durable, sometimes brittle, and at times has the potential to be razor sharp. A piece you're working on can be like digging a ditch in New Hampshire’s granite filled earth (which can be very enjoyable), and other times it’s like floating down a river. A full mental experience, and not far from a total body work out as well.

The dates for the upcoming workshops are:
April 10, 11, 12, 12:30pm - 4:30pm Basic Blacksmithing
April 17, 18, 19, 12:30pm - 4:30pm Basic Blacksmithing
April 25 1-4pm Basic Blacksmithing
May 2 1-5pm Fire poker making w/Rob Hudson

Sleeping and eating arrangements can be made for the 3 day classes or private lessons.
Check our website for dates later on in the season and check regularly as workshops develop through the year.

Happy forging,
Joe

More than Farm to Table

My friends have an organic farm and CSA in Greenville, NH. They came up for a quick overnight visit--they arrived the afternoon of the big storm on Sunday. I was late to greet them, having spent the morning at Cardigan Mountain Art Gallery making Ukranian decorated and dyed eggs. When I arrived at the house, I saw that the counter was covered with gifts of vegetables from their farm--potatoes, turnips, rutabaga, a couple of gallons of cider, and apples that had been stored since the Fall. The abundance of the hard Summer and Fall work was such a pleasure in these waning Winter months. They had never visited D Acres before, and it was another pleasure for me to show them around, talk about our work here and the daily life of living in community with others.

The night before their visit, we hosted a special Soup Night. We invited area farmers for a potluck and a time to share about their plans for the coming season as well as brainstorm ideas about how D Acres can help facilitate a further movement toward food localization. This year will mark the 3rd Edition of the Pemi-Baker Local Food Guide. So again, we are connecting farmers and local businesses with the wider community by creating and distributing a readeable and helpful takeaway guide. It will tell you where to find the farmer, who to call, what kind of produce, meat, dairy, fiber or other goods they may specialize in. It was a small, but faithful turnout of folks at the potluck. I was excited to be facilitating such a gathered group. It was hard to hear of the struggles some small farms are having, and it only made me want to push this work even further. These farms and individuals may offer us such abundance--knowledge alongside a product. It is the most sensible and sustaining economic decision any one can make to purchase from, visit, and get to know your local farms and farmers.

Though this was a small gathering, I gained the sense that something amazing and revolutionary could take place in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. What an opportunity it was to talk with such hard working and dedicated individuals. Whether it was Beefalo, eggs, or a small plot of a cultivar of winter wheat that is hardy to New England climate, our talk went beyond each farm's specialization. I felt encouraged when everyone voiced a hope to meet more regularly. But even more, there was a longing for more organized connections between farmers, local services, and the wider community. People want to be able to support the knowledge of their neighbor, but oftentimes have not a clue that their neighbor could help or provide food for their family.

I feel my words are not strong enough to emphasize the welling feeling of the need for dramatic change and action on the part of small communities like Dorchester, Rumney, and Wentworth. There are leaders among us, and we simply must continue to stand up. To rise up against a monoculture that oppresses imaginations, creativity, and common sense.

I can become overwhelmed by the global and even national economic and societal unease and instability, or I can remember my friends who are working just as hard to create food localization and cultural revitalization in their own town. And then I can be firm in my hope that another small farm across the country is doing the same.

Create, Make, and Make it Happen. Call it Revolution or call it Radical--the simple acts of meeting your neighbor, telling a story, and working hard.

with warmth,
Regina

Sugar Time, almost.

Today, finally a day over 40 degrees. The previous week had been a typical 0-15 degree average, which by now I've felt really accustomed to. Well, this morning was a different story. Beginning with reoccuring gusts of 20 mph it sounded cold, but when I walked outside to feed the pigs I experienced a pleasant reminder that it will warm up, spring will come again.
On a snowshoeing adventure up the Loop Trail, me and my companions were faced with a marooning blizzard as we trudged through soft, melting snow. Coyote tracks and poop were scattered along the trail, which might have instilled some fear in our not to local visitor.
Along the trail the pink markers wrapped around Sugar Maple's just waiting to be tapped filled my heart with the warmth of a lumberjack and the smell of the sap's vapor rising in the air. We finally find our way to the end of the trailhead and there is the sugar shack and a beam of sunlight breaking free of the clouds overhead. This tiny little shack transformed the air of D Acres into Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Cords of wood stacked up all around like soldiers ready to do their part when called upon. My hope for this years boil down is for us to be at least 25% more productive. We will have more trees tapped this season compared to last, especially since we didn't even get to use every one that was marked.

I feel good about these next coming months. Not only is there sugaring coming up, but I will be volunteering at the Vipassana Meditation Center in Shelburne, Mass. A great time for me to get refocused and clear my mind before venturing off to new and unexplored territories.
This day felt refreshing. The moonglow echoing off the menagerie of ice as the temperature drops to freezing. Even more now the wind is howling at 35 mph. A midnight stroll to the Creeker and I witness as it inhales and exhales with every sway of the trees supporting it's remarkable structure. You feel every movement of air as if it's alive. Weather like this reenergizes me and reminds me of how powerful and influencing mother nature really is.

Be sure to attend our Maple Sugaring Workshop here at D Acres

March 21 from 1-3 pm ($4-12 sliding scale)

learn how we boil down, tap trees the old fashion way and enjoy a taste of delicious NH sap

See ya there!

Coolio

Internal Consensus

My "list of work to accomplish" is getting longer as the season starts to change for us at the farm. New workshops, hostel guests, monthly food events, and on-going planning for the vision of this multi-faceted project are only a few of the pieces occupying our work time.

I made yogurt yesterday from milk we purchased from Robie Farm--leftover from our Farm Feast Breakfast. Later I'll work on a yogurt cheese with herbs. Sometimes I think it might be nice to have our own milking cow here, but I wonder if the land is best suited for a grazing animal. It takes a while for this forest land to become successful pasture. There is an unlimited amount of forethought that goes into farming. We double or even triple that forethought by being an educational organization--an experiment that models sustainability. An experiment that anyone is welcome to watch along with us.

And so, what is this work toward sustainability? Reducing fossil fuel consumption; growing vegetables, herbs, flowers? Flowers! For medicine and to attract insects and bees, birds too. Growing fuel, making cloth, living with others in community? But not just as neighbors, as folks to eat with, cook with, work and play with, struggle with through philosophical dilemmas like why maple syrup isn't on the table in February (even though one can purchase it in the store). Folks who will sit around a table for four hours in order to make key decisions about living together now, so that others will have a "piece of our pie" in the future. Folks who are willing to compromise. This action of compromising stems from the care we have for our selves and for the other, and is deeply embedded with two great virtues: patience and humbleness.

Imagine what could happen if we all agreed that patience and humbleness were a means to the radical subversion of corruption, oppression, misdirection, and miscommunication. Could a demeanor of compromise be an answer to power struggles? And how do we get there?

Lately I've been feeling like I haven't been doing enough work--I could be doing more. I could be working my mind and my body harder: read more books, carry more logs, split more kindling, knead the dough one more minute longer, spend more time with the chickens, the pigs, the oxen.

Today I worked with Neil to clean out all the chicken poop that has been accumulating these couple of months. It was a chore. It was lower back work--hauling and forking, scraping and shoveling. The moment we threw down those freshly chipped pine branches, I was glad I had done this work. For the feathery folks that live in this community--the chickens. Though some of them may be eaten in a couple of months, today, I shoveled their frozen mountains of shit.

I'd like to think we've made some kind of cosmic agreement with each other, some kind of compromise that allows us to cohabitate together.

Tomorrow, I will likely do some more work. I'm putting work first, because it's not a so called busy schedule that I'm looking forward to, it's the breakdown of all things conventional.

Because maybe some early morning, I will wake up to milk the cow out in the pasture.

just thinking,
Regina

Gettin' it goin'

I'm enjoying this winter. We have a bit more time to breath but are still keeping productive. There's a really cool tree house that is near completion north of the community building. The windows are 4 old sliding door windows screwed into place - great visibility out to the woods.

I've been keeping busy with creating and fixing tools in the blacksmith shop in preperation for this season, working in the woods, seedling related activities, indoor maintnance and meetings.

The meetings here are pretty cool. We had a four hour meeting this morning about our traditional arts fair Sept 12 and 13. I know four hours seems like a long time but we're using consenses here with 10 people who have fairly different upbringings, life experiences, and little practice in this method of decision making. When you think about it, it's pretty amazing that we make any decisions at all. Luckily we're all very passionate about what we're doing here and respect eachother enough to want to make decisions we can all be comfortable Living with. It's good practice in patience, compassion, selflessness, honesty, focus, communication... I really wish more people had the opportunity to experience this. It's been significal in my growth as a person over the past year and a half.

Anyway, I need to go to bed. I'm good and tired.

Make good decisions,
Joe V.