The Brave Hello

As I pick weeds, my brain picks through thoughts and ponderings. Working solo lends itself to times of great reflection and thought. There’s a twofold reason for loving my work: uncovering a gardener’s treasures that have been neglected over time, and sorting through a slough of thoughts that can be given hours of dedicated sifting as my hands methodically work through the earth.

 I have often dwelt on negative thoughts or judgements in my life, but as of late, all these grey thoughts have found no room amidst the crowd of positively wonderful thoughts, happenings, and people in my life. And I’m busy- oh, so busy- but this kind of total occupation is completely driven by my own dreams, desires, and goals. No clutter of have-to’s or should be’s for the sake of appearances or social graces. Why, you ask? Well quite simply, the ones in my life that I’ve left room for all belong to my dreams and goals as well. I literally don’t have time for anyone not attached to my upward life climb. If that sounds selfish to you,  I can assure you it is. I am completely immersed in my own self-centered endeavors- and I make no apologies for said lifestyle; I don’t need to.

 My circle has tightened around the loyal champions of my success, and I theirs, so there is no room for nay sayers or those who don’t share a similar vision. I am blessed. But it was by opening and closing doors and that I am here. The courage to open them to look for new ways to success, and to close them on people and paths not beneficial for me. 

Seriously, there are so many loving, positive people ready to love and support you in this thing called life.  How do you find them? Well, for me it’s a been a series of brave hellos. I talk to everyone- and I make a point to give the hello extra time if the other person wishes to take it further. Often, a person who is genuinely engaged in conversation will respond with further talk. People long to share their stories, and I long to listen, if for no other reason than to hear a stranger’s journey. Sometimes my hellos turn into hours, sometimes, just a brief exchange of smiles that touch both faces- and in my experience, give a glow to the day just for the exchanging. It’s a rewarding habit to have an open demeanor; as I’ve mentioned here before, a smile given freely cracks so many closed faces. It’s really that simple.  Keep saying hello to everyone you meet. You will say hello to the wrong people along the way- that’s what goodbye is for, and then you just press on greeting every being that crosses your path. Want to be really brave? Believe me- it’s worth it- cross paths with those not directly in your path. Jump into someone’s day with a smile and you will be amazed at the souls you meet. I don’t speak from any book but my own. I can look back to the dark days where I stayed cloaked in my own negativity wondering if anyone would even know if I slipped away into darkness forever. I also remember taking a chance smiling at a stranger alone against a wall who is now my dearest friend. Crack open and pour out, it will come back to you a hundred fold. Those silly sayings that tell you to surround yourself with good energy people? They’re true. And those people multiply as you uncover their locations. Some shine privately only for you and you both have a beautiful, personal energy you share. Others are like-beacons that shine you onto more similar lit up faces. I believe this because I live this. There will be false lights and false friends and at times you’ll be sucked in and have to pull yourself away- remember the anchors of those who have been there always- they’ll always pull you back and never judge you for reaching for whoever. They understand your light grows the more people you touch. They know they will always be home to you no matter how far you roam. 

Writing the Why

What is the why? I can examine the why of many things in my life, and truth be told it’s an excercise I am in need of, but today I am examining why I write. There are many things we do as hobbies and habits that come and go as they are useful, but writing is one thing I can say has always been my constant in what some might call an ever-changing life.

When I was young, writing gave pause to hot, angry tears. I turn to my pen in times of great sorrow, confusion, or distress, yet also when I am joyful and full of life and purpose. Poetry pours out at high and low points.  In person, I am rarely one that’s considered lost for words, although as I grow older I am trying to learn the habit of tongue biting over wagging. It is one of my chief struggles and I regret having only a size 6 foot to utilize as a stopper.

 So why write?

My words are more beautiful and succinct on paper.

In my writing, there is an end goal, a sentence that completes a thought. My writing is both a release and a bridle for my tongue.

 On paper, I can create semblance for my flailing thoughts: a beginning, a middle, an end. As I write I edit in silence, crossing out and scribbling over words that had my mouth given them voice could never be unspoken. My pen is my self-pacing breath for my thoughts. If allowed to escape in voice form they would appear as what they are: Wild, unstable jumble with no clear direction.

My written words are my metered-out insides, checked and balanced standing exposed on  paper. Can my thoughts pass the test of my eyes and a once again filtering through my quieted mind?
Once penned are they all  still necessary to give voice to this waterfall held inside? This is why I write- it is a discipline for my younger, and an outlet for my mind. May my written words be of more use and value than a thousand unchecked spoken words.

Written, re-written, and written again,
Create some sort of structure
From wild thoughts to words with pen;
I write and I write-
No one needs to hear all,
These pages a safety net
To break my thoughts’ fall.

Rise'n'Swine Farm

Have you ever considered a day in the life of the animals that are raised to provide for our nourishment? This might not be a question that crosses your mind as a consumer, but for Greg Putney of Rise N Swine Farms and Matt Dunning, his one-man-crew, it is the focal point in their endeavors to raise local, quality meat for their families and community. Their farm formula: “Give an animal the best life possible, with only one bad day” gives insight into a farm run with compassion and the understanding that animals raised for human consumption deserve humane, enjoyable lives during their time on this earth.

Greg began this journey by raising ten pigs in 2009 with the goal of providing his family and friends quality, humanely raised meat. As the pork cuts vanished into satisfied bellies, the number of pigs in Greg’s care increased, and he made the decision to lease a 106-acre parcel that would transform a pig-raising hobby into a life of farming. Today, over one hundred heritage breed pigs rotationally roam the hilly woods and pastures of the Holland, New York farm. In 2017, Scottish Highland cows were added to the farm family, along with one hundred laying hens.

The Farm. Photo Courtesy of Black Spruce Photography

Greg and Matt met in 2010 and after establishing a fast friendship, Greg, as many resourceful farmers do, asked Matt if he could help load a few pigs on a trailer. The rest of Matt’s integration into the story is history and Matt now lives close by and assists with sales, marketing, scheduling, and any other task where Greg needs a second set of hands. The two also work together as full-time linemen for National Grid, balancing a 40-plus hour workweek with the needs of the farm. Greg’s two young daughters pitch in as well, as their fascination with farm life increases.

Anna the beekeeper! Photo: Matt Dunning

Greg’s primary goal is to provide a safe, enjoyable asset to his family- not just in monetary value, but also in their quality of life. The farm is where his daughters run free and discover life, and he wants all aspects of the farm to be open and inviting to their endless exploration. His oldest, Anna, has become quite the beekeeper, providing the farm another source of income with honey sales. A second goal, no less important the first- is finding animals that fit the land, with little to no adaptation, so the animals would naturally feel at home on its geography. These two goals played a vital role in choosing heritage breeds that are known for their docile nature, their independence in birthing and general survival, resilience in cold temperatures, and are adapted to the natural habitat of the wooded and hilly terrain of the farm.

 Photo courtesy of Black Spruce Photography

The cows were purchased in 2017 as an investment to pay for the lease of the farmland, but how they fit into a cycle with the other animals and land use is just what you would expect from a farmer that seeks to employ an animal’s natural instincts to benefit the farm. The pigs and cows themselves are the main workers when it comes to clearing the brushy acres for pasture. Highlands are among the few breeds of cattle that will eat brush; most cattle eat only soft grasses. The pigs are also natural foragers, and three heritage breeds were selected for their shorter snouts as well as for other important traits. This insures that their rooting of the ground is relatively shallow and less disruptive to the soil structure while still thoroughly turning the soil and eating plant roots. There has been no mechanical turning of the soil on the farm; and cover crops are spread by hand and as well as by the pigs turning the soil.

Timing is everything on the farm- when to bring the next species on or off pasture is critical not only for prime forage, but also considering parasite life cycles, pest control benefits, and balancing the animals’ ability to get as much nutrition from the pasture without over grazing and creating unstable soil erosion conditions. The pigs are the first pasture tenants, spending seven to ten days on a given pasture. When temperatures permit, cover crops including winter wheat, barley, and sorghum are spread two days before the pigs are rotated out. This aids in spreading the seed as the pigs naturally nose through the pasture. Then the pasture is left to rest for 45 days, allowing the cover crop to germinate and establish, while giving time for any possible parasites they might have been carrying, time to die off. Then in come the cows.

Cover crop of barley

The last in the rotational lineup are the laying hens, who are brought on pasture three days after the cows leave. This takes into account the life cycle timing of fly eggs to larvae that have been laid on the cow pies. The chickens come through and receive a high protein diet in exchange for acting as a natural pest control by eating the larvae before they hatch.

This type of dovetail planning can be found on all aspects of the farm. Greg describes his method as management intense as opposed to machinery intense, taken primarily from Joel Salatin’s farming philosophy. In terms of machinery and structures, the farm has only one tractor and one barn. By choosing animal breeds that come from colder climates, there is less need for shelter and land adaptation. Greg notes that if hay was not placed in the barn, the cows would never even venture in, and can often be seen happily standing in the pasture with layers of snow on their backs. Each breed is carefully chosen based on two criterion: (1) does the farm closely resemble the animal’s habitat of origin and (2) does the breed possess a solid reputation for mild temperament?

The system is labor intensive at startup, with the most challenging jobs so far being fencing installation and providing the animals with access to fresh water. Many hours of planning, research, and laying out paddock configurations were necessary to develop a site specific system that would best support the animals without mechanized alterations to the land. However, once all the initial set-up was completed, the farm operates with a natural rhythm where everything has a place, time, and purpose.

Matt giving out cow treats. 

One thing that Greg is very proud of is that his market animals have never needed medicating, there has been no sickness among his animals. The farm is a very healthy, clean place where the animals thrive in a habitat that naturally fits their genetic impulses and needs. Farm tours are offered throughout the year to give the community the opportunity to see all aspects of farm life. This open communication with customers is important, Greg notes -they have nothing to hide and everything to gain from allowing the public to see and experience the farm for themselves.

Processing is done off the farm at a local USDA certified facility, and Greg sells his meat as whole-animal, half-animal, or, their latest and hottest offering, by the thirty-pound box. These boxes were an innovation that Greg began offering to customers that didn’t have the storage space for large quantities of meat, as well as new customers who wanted to try Rise ‘N Swine’s meat for the first time. One of the biggest challenges has been having meat on hand for new customers to purchase throughout the year.

Most of the meat processed is either pre-ordered or sells out quickly when meat availability is posted on their Facebook page. This presents a challenge when potential customers happen upon the farm between processing times. But this challenge is one that the farm welcomes, and Greg is confident he will find the perfect balance of manageable labor while supplying his ever growing customer base.

Looking ahead to the future, Rise N Swine is planning to open a farm store on the property, where customers can buy meat by the cut, as well as purchase farm produced honey and their pasture raised eggs. Greg and Matt are also exploring compost production, noting that this naturally produced by- product is an excellent soil amendment, and could prove to be another source of income for the farm.

Opportunities abound for a small farm, but Greg weighs each one against the long-term impacts to the land and the needs of the current farm residents, be they two- or four-legged. In farming, there are hard days, and there are easy days, but here in the hills of Holland, New York, you can rest assured that every day on the farm is the next best day in the life of everyone that calls Rise N Swine Farms home.

Solo Path

"Why these damn tears!?" I yelled through sobs, frustrated at the streams running down my face.
"You're a crier, always have been," she replied matter-of-factly.
 I laughed, because it was just that simple- and true. I was speaking with a mentor on my goals, stumbling blocks, and the revelations that come when you speak slowly, and a wiser person listens intentionally. She knows me well. Tears are a release- of whatever is locked inside. They  sometimes come when I have waited too long- as emotional bursts- rather than in the steady, cleansing breaths she later taught me to make a daily habit. I teared up thinking about writing this post. Tears ran down my face last night when I opened up to a new possible mentor (you can find them everywhere if you're open to growing) about my life path. Tears are nothing to be ashamed of, although I do regret the discomfort it causes others who don't understand them.They are something I have learned to love and accept about myself and my unique way of traversing this life. If I'm crying I'm feeling, and if I'm feeling I'm living. Don't worry, as a dear friend once noted, my tears turn to laughter and back again just as easy, that's just a fact of me.

I also love searching faces. It's a habit I've always had, and it comes in quite handy working in retail, but also in life. I love smiling first and cracking a worried or shy brow, and then watching a smile bloom on a stranger's face. It's an energy exchange, and can sometimes be just enough to affect a mood, an outlook, a day, even a life. Sometimes it's theirs, almost always, it's mine. My beliefs on energy are still evolving, but I have come to believe you attract the energy you emit. Kind of like the saying, only boring people get bored. Or perhaps, you generate an energy, and it can touch another and effect them, and mirror back to you. When I was an angrier, more confused person, I found every furrowed brow to be another angry, confused person. Now, as I look into a sea of faces, I see many thoughtful, searching faces looking back at me. I see hopeful smiles, dream filled eyes, lesson-lined faces.

 Yesterday, while searching faces in a coffee shop, I stumbled upon a person I knew of, but until then had no personal interactions with, and chose to ask him a question about my business. Or, to put it more honestly, I walked up to his table uninvited, introduced myself, sat down, and launched into a series of questions about a business issue that had been troubling me. Shy, I am not, and rarely have I been accused of beating about bushes for the sake of cautious uncertainty.  I had always thought him an intriguing person that I'd like to know, but never had a need or opportunity to speak to him, until yesterday. My one question spurred hours of conversation about my and his career paths, life stories, and provoking questions as to where I am headed now.

I can be a messy jumble to listen to when I first find an attentive ear, and he echoed what other wise people in my life have admonished- "Slow down and listen- quiet yourself and hear what's already being spoken inside. Stop searching so hard for answers and they will come, or are already there. Your motion is stationary spinning; be still, and you will move forward."

I have a plan this year, with pieces steadily falling in place as I set my mind to them. I'm going to write for small farms and veteran owned businesses involved in regenerative agriculture. In March I'm doing a resident apprenticeship on a friend's farm to learn heritage livestock breeding and an artistic trade- to be revealed later if I'm any good at it! I have plans and ideas to improve and grow my gardening service. At the end of this growing season, I'm trading my car in for a van to convert for living, working, and travel. They are all very ambitious goals, and ambition is something I have never lacked. But they are not easy goals, mostly because I will do them by myself for myself.

That was where the tears brimmed yesterday as I shared my realizations about my path. For so long, I had myself convinced I needed others to make my dreams possible. I wrote a partner into every long term plan, and I let my dreams crack when I severed relationships. For as I look back, I severed every tie I ever sought to make. Each time, I found that adding a person to my plan only caused energy to drain from, not add to it. Yet as an embodiment of Einstein's definition of insanity, I continued to make space for others in my dreams.

This year, I move forward knowing that my dream is made just for these hands to hold, and as it grows, I will grow with it and gain the strength to carry it to fruition. Will there be short term energy exchanges that fuel me when traveling through rough terrain? Without a doubt. Will I continue to look for faces in the sea of people to share a moment of reflected sunlight? How could I not?  Will my tears and breaths continue, understood or not, and carry me forward one well-placed step at a time? This I can assure you; and as I walk, though I be a solo traveler, I can assure myself- I am never alone.

Seasons of Giving

Can you tell when a person has a need and you have just the gift for them?  As I pen this, your dwelling is quite possibly riddled with the aftermath of what some call the season of giving. A bit of ribbon here, a pile of broken down cardboard there, and perhaps a jumble of gifts headed to any destination other than to be used by you. 

Ah, the gift of giving.  It's a good feeling when we get it right, isn't it?  I have always loved to give to others.  A few years back, when cash flowed in and out of my pockets, I felt the best way to help others was to buy and give them things. I took pride in learning and knowing my friends and family, putting an intricate amount of thought into what I deemed just the right blend of practical and desired, and most certainly unduplicated by other gift givers in their life. I’m sure most of my gifts were thoughtful and appreciated, but as I have changed my lifestyle priorities, I have come to live with much less money, and therefore have little to spend on material gift giving. I had to make a conscious effort to buy less for others, telling myself that loved ones would have to understand and adapt to getting less from me.

My younger self was both a very needy and yet also very people pleasing person.  These two traits actually connected because my need to give tied more to my need to be wanted and seen- and not so much to fulfilling others’ needs with my giving and pleasing. Although there is always the rebounding effect of feeling good for another's happiness, I can honestly say that was not my main motivation for giving back then. A few years back, I came to realize how both unhealthy and unsatisfying it was to be so dependent on others’ approval and happiness, and resolved to change these traits in myself. 

Let me first tell you about a transition which began by being quite selfish- in the true sense of the word- that among other things led to finding a new way of giving. I started by one year setting a resolution to say no- if I did not want to do something and I felt it would do little but drain me, I would decline invitations to friends’ events or any other thing I would normally feel obligated to participate in or attend. I limited my access to friends that had become dependent on my help. My "no" resolve grew into resigning from a career path that had become more an ego-driven scramble for achievement and proving myself instead of truly pursuing my life's work. I changed careers with the goal of achieving passionate purpose rather than prove I could master the ladder rung race as my life's work. I had recognized by then that a typical career would never fully utilize my talents and did more to drain my soul than it ever did fill my bank account. 

But here’s the thing- I’m fairly certain if you ask a few of my friends, they’d say they’ve received more from me in the last two years than they ever did when I was giving out pricey gift boxes. Life has truly demonstrated to me that giving isn’t dependent on what is given, but more on the how and why. The cliché yet relevant phrase “it’s the thought that counts” is truly applicable in every day giving. I have come to believe that when you have less, and are preoccupied with less, you see and feel more, and in turn, that is where the less becomes more. It's not just a lofty line from philosophy but a genuine, every day full feeling I walk around with in my being. In feeling more for myself, I often find I can feel others better as well, and have found a way to still give gifts- these wrapped with nothing other than my arms and heart. What I have left to give is abundant, and I hope with each arm wrapping, to give what is relevant, needed, and fulfilling to loved ones.

I can point to one instance where this awareness paid off in giving what was truly needed. I met someone this summer that I was quite immediately drawn to, and felt a connection that pulled me closer. I sought through our meeting and first interactions to know him better, and as I listened, was drawn in even further. While taking this time to know him, I sensed a need- something I had that he could use. He needed touch. I could feel myself pulled to just press my arm against him as we sat next to one another- and I could feel the grateful reception of my touch. He later told me how special and desired that simple touch connection was, and how grateful he was that I gave it to him so freely.


It is a beautiful feeling to be able to sense energy reception. There are those I recoil from touching, those I approach cautiously yet knowing they need touch- and those I run to for a mutual exchange of loving and fulfilling touch energy. I had nothing material to give him, and honestly, had I been in my old habit of seeking something material to demonstrate my care, it would have, no doubt been received graciously, but have been altogether off the mark and unnecessary. Quite possibly a thing to collect dust and create a sense of obligation to be kept- despite being useless to the owner. That is no gift. 

The more in tune with my own needs and fulfillment I become, the more I sense others needs- and give of my overflowing energy, to fulfill those needs. Many people long for touch, or to be heard and seen with warmth-  a bit of energy to re-start their own love journey, and I get so excited when simple touches, hugs, smiles, or handmade gifts can be the gift that fills those drained moments for others. It's the simplest, yet most heart warming gift- one with two recipients, and what is most beautiful is when one giver becomes two.

My son, probably my best teacher when it comes to giving through touch

Penning Passion

Today's writing began while I shaped a ball of shortbread dough in my hands and let my mind wander over this year's thoughts, experiences, conversations, and faces. For the traditional participant of Christmas, my window holds the perfect scene, branches laden with light bright snow and the air heavy with crystal flakes. My traditions of hiking, baking and writing will be interspersed with the more cultural norms of Christmas gatherings this year, and while still not a completely comfortable place, I find comfort in the faces that compel me to join them.

Between the last paragraph and this, I baked the batch of shortbread cookies and read through last year's Christmas Eve post. It's a beautiful thing to see yourself grow. One of the biggest compliments my ex-husband ever paid me was that despite his never quite understanding why or what I was off to accomplish next, he always saw me grow from each and every path I chose. Last year I was unsure what I would accomplish beyond my Gardening Service, yet I knew I was on the path to find it. Last year I celebrated new friendships that encouraged my courageous path, now, at the end of this year, I have multipled those friendships and found through them just what I can do for others with my writing.

Presently I am writing for two small farms, which I find both rewarding and challenging. I was discussing why this type of writing was challenging me with one of the farmers, who also is a dear friend, and he pointed out that perhaps it was that much of my blog writing is about feeling and emotion, where the content writing would focus more on action and description. While true to a degree, I think it is more about the responsibility I feel for correctly presenting another's passion. For I am not just writing the how and what, but more importantly, why they farm and what drove them to choose farming above all else.

I began a word study on passion this morning: I've often been called a passionate person, and find myself drawn to what I consider like-passioned people. But what is passion? The word passion is derived from the Latin pati which means to undergo or endure, and the Late Latin passionem for endurance and suffering. The word passion was first used as a term to describe the time of Jesus' life from The Last Supper through the crucifixion- often capitalized as 'The Passion.' Early in it's use, it was used as both a verb and noun; today, it is primarily used as a noun with a few different meanings centering around intense emotions, driving external forces, ardent affection and sexual desire, or an object of deep desire or interest.

 Looking over all of these definitions, I find that the closest definition of passion that resonates with me is emotion that spurs action. Passion's original subject was driven by love to an action that led to great suffering and death. One entomology article pointed out how unfortunate that a word that used to encompass so many different feelings now is mostly used for shallow pleasure and most do not understand the rich application of the word passion. Often, great emotions that drive us can lead us on paths of suffering, yet the action continues not for suffering, but despite it for the ardent affection that is passion, be it for a person, a way of life, or a belief.

Life driven by passion is precious, and I revere those who live by their passion. Here is the connection that I seek to make as I write for these farmers: properly depicting their ardent affection for their work- the emotion driven actions that demonstrate a true passion for farming. Here is where the writer and subject share the same drive, to live out what is born inside- living peacefully with nature, providing for family, building a community, and stewardship for the land, despite suffering, for the reward of living each day driven by passionate purpose.

Lens and Frame-

It has been some months since I have written a post- and while the lack of words might seem to imply I have little to say, this is not exactly the case. Recall my last post, where I wrote of a trip to New Hampshire- full of aspiring and beginning Veteran Farmers. Among them, while full of joy and purpose, I did not necessarily find the same calling- yet a complimentary one that combines my love of writing, farming, and most importantly, of discovering journeys that must be heard and told. It was there that I learned about the possibility of becoming a content writer, specifically for farmers who rediscovered their life's purpose though working with the land. Since that time, I have been letting this idea ruminate through the active months, where my hands were busy with creating, building, and planting my client's gardens.

Now in the cold months, life slows to a steady, predictable pace with pockets of time in which to explore this writing venture. I am fortunate to live with a seasoned writer, and we have had several conversations on how I can become a conduit for the small farmer's journey. I've been given reading assignments to hone my skills and explore developing my writing style, and thus begins the winter writing project.

This blog has, up until now tracked my journey, and now I aim to steer it slightly to follow my path of sharing others' journeys. I have told a few friends about my desire to write, but as of yet do not have a definite subject on which to write. So you see, it is not so easy as my prior topics, where I could freely find content in my own experience. My thoughts and feelings, while in probability will shine through how I share, have much less importance than capturing and understanding another's thoughts and feelings. I must generate questions rather than answers. It is easy for me to speak my voice, but here, I will seek to be a voice for those who are more accustomed to speaking through actions. I in turn, shall give voice to these actions, and show these farmers for the poets of the land that they are. We indeed must speak the same language, but only one of us must find the words to describe the life.

I have always been told I have a good eye in the world of photography and design. I think this writing venture will be a similar undertaking. I must look at a thing from all sides, possibly find myself in the mud and brambles, and there, after training my eye on what perspective shows the greatest detail, I capture it in all it's own essence. Telling true stories, capturing the struggles, failures, epiphanies, and successes- the story already exists, I am but the lens and frame by which the world can see its development.

It is a difficult journey to finding your own voice, expressing your own thoughts and ideas succinctly and passionately. It is still even more of a challenge to be that voice for another, uncolored by anything other than enthusiasm and encouragement to make their story known to the world. This is what I seek to become as a content writer. Reading back over this piece I know I have skills that need sharpening, and a writing structure that will need developing for my subjects.

While rough-hewn and as yet unrealized, I know my passion for channeling the voice of the small farm will be a beauteous journey indeed. What to call this endeavor? I've started one of those brainstorming cloud bubbles on paper with words that resonate the mission- journey, farming, voice, purpose, and the like, but I am still working this new direction out, and would be interested in your thoughts. After all, from here forward, I am but the film on which others' stories develop-