Reflecting on local food and markets, have times changed?

A few weeks ago three farms in the Wakefield area held a “farmhop”, an openhouse to show their wares.   And hundreds of people attended.

This weekend Wakefield Market which began with a hand full of vendors on card tables will complete its 20^th season with an average of 25 vendors each week.

Every week the major daily newspapers devote numerous articles to the local food movement.

My how times have changed, or have we just gone back to the future?  Being a history buff, I have noted the many historical photos of the Byward Market of 70 or 100 years ago, with literally hundreds of teams of horses, Model T’s, and huge crowds of people – all buying at the market. All buying locally produced products.   To my knowledge  my family never sold at the Byward Market, but I know stories of neighbours who left the farm in the middle of the night, horse and buggy or sleigh, to take their produce to the Ottawa Market.   For many years my father sold eggs, butter, apples, potatoes and more on his weekly door to door sales in Hull.   He also sold pork and veal carcasses to Hull corners stores such as Labelles and Laramees.  Meat sales ended late 1950s with new government regulations about butchering. The egg and produce sales also ended about the same time. Believe it or not customers did not want to buy brown eggs when they could get white ones in the big grocery stores. Our apples had scabs on them and so did not measure up to the new modern apples, scab free. They had been sprayed.  Yes local farmers were organic long before it was hip.

Then came the 1970s and 80s.  Good friend of mine from university got into vegetable business in a big way, pick your own was the “in thing”, strawberries and vegetables.   But trends changed and people did not always want to pick.  Meanwhile Byward and Parkdale markets became known as re-seller markets instead of producer markets. In 1990 my friend and a handful of others helped Carp Market open its doors.   The vendors sold only what they produced, no re-sellers. It was an instant success, 1000 people on the first week. Lansdowne  Farmers market followed a few years later and now farmer’s markets are a fixture in many towns, small and large.

And back to that Wakefield “farmhop” a few weeks ago.  One thing all the farm owners  have in common, none of them were raised on a farm.  In the 1960s I could not imagine hundreds of young city-folks, with children in tow, coming to visit my father’s farm, just to see a real farm and where their food came from.

Real food came from the super market.  My school lunch had homemade cookies, my mother made pickles, jams and jellies – certainly not ”in” when you could get “store-bought”.

So “local food” and 100 mile diet have been good for many farmers.  Many from non-farm backgrounds have got into agriculture and I think re-acquainted an entire generation with food.  .   The newcomers have done a great job of promoting their operations, selling the sizzle with the steak.

Farmers markets help the local economy, and as we have seen in Wakefield, help to build and maintain a community. Local artisans, community groups, tourism all benefit from markets.

All this rambling to say, thanks to you, the community, for another successful market season. It does take a community to grow a market, and “you done great”.

Until next time…

Bob

 

Looking back at market 2016

Fourth annual Author’s Day

July gladiolas at McClelland 1840 Farm booth

Summer at the market

First annual Pottery Day

 

First annual Aboriginal Day, a huge success, thanks to the community.

 

 

Being actively Thankful is easy at this time of year

Autumn…I love how that sounds… Awe-tumn. You can’t help but be in awe this week with the vibrant colours coming alive in the bush. A year of brilliant crimson reds, flame orange, lemon yellows to golden. The maple, the birch, the oak, sumacs, wild grapes and the virginia creeper, all putting on such a memorable light show. You just don’t want it to end. The dry summer has  made a striking landscape with Nature’s paint brush. Time spent admiring and breathing in that wonderful fall air is good for the soul.  Your mind is free to travel to many parts of your life that being Thankful is truly what you are. Being Thankful is easy. Humbling.

Thanks for letting us into your weekly reading routine with our farm note books.

To be continued,

Sue

 

Bob and I try to keep a fall tradition of taking a day off the farm to spoil ourselves to a day trip to Chateau Montebello for a lunch date together. The drive is relaxing, lovely and scenic. The lunch buffet is a treat to the taste buds. A majestic log building outside, totally comfortable inside with a six sided fireplace as its centerpiece.

Too late in the season to have seen the chef’s gardens, cleaned up earlier in the week. But even so, still looks welcoming.

How about this for an outdoor veggie washing station? Wooden tables, unique hand pump to wash the earth away, easy prepping for the garden vegetables on the menu. This is on my Wish List!

After a satisfying lunch, the Ottawa River beckoned us to sit and soak up the view, the sunshine and have an afternoon of reading and chatting… before the drive home.

Bob and Lily checking out the dryness of the second cut hay. Rake tomorrow after the dew, then bale before the dampness of the late afternoon.

Late afternoon sun shining on the back of the main barn.

A walk down to the Blackburn Creek to finish the day. With the summer draught, the water level is very low, the rapids are much reduced in water rushing over the rocks.

Open windows, wide open! What I miss the most during the winter months. Temperatures this week in the low 20’s has made the house fresh again. View from the south window in the summer kitchen.

 

 

Fall fairs, a country tradition

No autumn season is complete without a visit to a fall fair; and last weekend we attended one which advertises itself as the “best little fair in Canada”.

For as long as I can remember I have been attending fall fairs.   As a child it was Aylmer Fair held in early September.  My father was a director and my older brother and sister showed calves in the 4H.  About the time I got old enough to show we stopped breeding Holsteins and shortly after the fair stopped.  It was a victim of urbanism.  Aylmer Fair was Gatineau County’s fair; the countryside around Aylmer had many very good farms, mostly dairy or vegetables. Farmers also came from what is today north Hull, Chelsea, Templeton and up the Gatineau Valley.  But when the farms were paved over for housing, the nucleus of the fair was gone.

Other fairs in the region have also ceased operation.  Papineauville, Quyon, and Chapeau have all closed in the past 30 years.  Locally Rupert, a relatively young fair, soldiers on thanks to a devoted group of volunteers.  Poltimore Fair did not operate this year, but organizers promise to be back in 2017.   Insurance costs, fire regulations and government food regulations have raised the operating costs of such events.   Weather is also a constant worry, sun or rain can mean the difference between money in the bank or big debts.

While some fairs have not survived others, thanks to hard work and an involved community have thrived.  Williamstown, near Cornwall is home to Canada’s oldest fall fair. It was established in 1808 and although we have never attended the fair we did take a few photos of the fairgrounds during a visit this spring. See below.  An aside, for history lovers the town, founded in 1780s is a gem, boasting the home of Norman Bethune, a United Church built in 1812 and explorers David Thompson and Simon Fraser were born nearby.

This year Shawville Fair celebrated its 160^th  anniversary.  During the past 35  years we have attended many fairs and I am always amazed how a local community of a couple thousand can successfully host many thousands to what is an annual celebration and homecoming for so many.

Last weekend was the 153^rd Carp Fair.  I don’t recall visiting a better organized fair.  As we approached the village signs directed us to parking and  shuttle buses brought us to the grounds, parking and shuttle were free, admission was $12.  Carp had everything a fair should have, lots of space, horses, livestock, agriculture programs for kids, lots of live entertainment, lots of places to eat, and places to sit and eat, displays, antiques, midway  and all in a very clean and tidy setting.   It makes a strong case for its boast as “best little fair in Canada”.

Mark your calendar now for 2017 fair season.

Until next time,   Bob

Entrance to Williamstown Fair grounds showing the traditional six-sided exhibit hall.

An antique plough display at the Carp Fair.

Wool display and antique tractors in background.

More wool….

Two weeks ago I took this picture of a crab apple beside a hay field – amazing crop.

Today we went to pick the crab-apples, can you see the remaining half dozen apples.

The turkeys are celebrating Thanksgiving early.

Autumn arrives

With the arrival of autumn we look back at a week on the farm.  We are days away from the first killing frost, we are busy harvesting the last of the tomato and bean crops, and our pumpkins are gathered and waiting a trip to the market.  to be continued…

Sue

 

And so it begins…. the colouring and falling of the first maple leaves.

Following a hot summer the pumpkins all ripened early, but a lack of rain delivered smaller pumpkins.

Thanks to family members the crop was all harvested Wednesday night.  They are piled together to be covered on frosty nights which are just around the corner.

 

The Three Musketeers: Arthur the ram is the newest resident of our farm, he arrived Tuesday and by Wednesday morning had made two new friends Gus and Lily.

The last blooms of summer.

 

An enthusiastic nod for the afternoon nap, I’m out of the closet and onto the couch!

Since Bob’s off- the- farm job ended almost 8 years ago, the mornings on our farm begin a little bit later than those 6am days. Then, Bob needed the extra time to do the first barn chores of the day, to scrub up before heading to town and  get a fast breakfast often finished on the drive to the Central Experimental Farm. I needed the early hour to get the kids ready and off to the bus. Mornings now start at 7am, later than some people picture a farmer up, but plenty early for us who usually go until sun down in the summer months.

Spring and summer days are long and full of farming demands. Having the stamina to put in those long hot humid haying afternoons comes with a routine of a short siesta during the high heat of the day; somewhat similar to the noon schedule in the tropics. There was a time when I would never have admitted to that. Napping was for old folks, the type who would be found nodding off in the rocker types.

When I moved into Bob’s family farm home, the kitchen had a very important piece of furniture in it. Like most heritage farm houses, it came with a narrow iron post couch for those much needed farmer naps. After the noon meal, that couch would have had a few generations of farm men snooze on it over the 5 generations of McClellands. It gave you a place to lie down and stretch out your tired bones after the morning hours of barn chores and field work

Back then I was not a napper. My days went from dawn til dusk, nap free. Napping slowed me down.  I don’t know where I was going in such a rush, but it wasn’t for me. So that couch was used more for changing baby’s cloth diapers than it was for naps. With a bit of remorse, the couch is now in the wood shed and replaced by a comfortable easy chair and my grandfather’s rocker, both work for a short doze when eyes are heavy.

Well, times have changed. I am now a proud napper. At the end of a week of Friday harvest and Saturday 5am rising to pack the truck for market, a Sunday rest is eagerly anticipated . That break does wonders for tired bodies in recuperating for the next week. The great part is, you get up ready to re-start your day. I put on the kettle, have a hot drink and off I go.

CBC radio had an excellent interview the other month on the positive health benefits of having a nap during the day. Most importantly the “ok-ness” of  putting your feet up for some quick shut eye. My mother had been doing that for as long as I remember. My fond memories in the later years when I would visit her, was of her walking past me, egg timer in hand and cranking it back for twenty minutes. Her power nap was to begin. Occasionally it was cranked back twice!

So, a salute to the afternoon lazy nap, when your body melts into the mattress and you have to pull yourself out kind of nap. Even more perfect are the rainy Sunday afternoon naps, there is nothing better as a combination of perfect timing.

Nod off, it’s ok! Power to the power nap!

To be continued,

Sue

Sept 15, 2016

No day is so bad it can’t be fixed by a nap.

Diapers make a good pillow for three year old Marie while reading her dad’s Cattleman magazine on the old kitchen couch.

 

First course,second cut hay for growing lamb’s breakfast.

Second course is cereal, corn and barley.

A farm woman relaxes, after lunch, on the south veranda.

 

 

 

 

Plants need more than water

 

I was asked last week by a market attendee what kind of summer it has been. Well in a word challenging.   Everyone remembers it was a very dry for spring and the first half of summer, and some rains did come just in time to avert disaster.  But, lack of water is not the total story, more explanation is needed.

A recent article in the The Grower, a publication for Ontario fruit and vegetable growers spoke of the drought’s effect on the three important plant nutrients, nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium, N, P and K.    Dry soil conditions affect the availability of these nutrients to the plant.   For nitrogen, dry soil reduces the soil microbe activity of breaking down organic matter.  Remember soil is a huge “factory” of bugs, bacteria and other organisms all helping feed the plants.

Phosphorus is also affected.  It moves from higher concentrations in the soil to lower concentration in the roots, but as soil becomes drier, the rate of diffusion goes down because the water film around the soil particles is thinner.   Likewise with potassium, as the clay particles shrink the K becomes trapped within the layers of the soil particles.  It could be said water is like the lubricant which helps get the nutrients from the soil particles to the roots, no water equals nutrient deprived plants.

We know that animals or humans who are malnourished during their “youth” or growing phase will be permanently affected.  They do not reach full potential in size and their health suffers later in life. Plants are affected in a similar fashion. Crops which suffer water stress will be shorter, yield less and are more susceptible to attack from insects or diseases.

To summarize, water stress was not the only problem, plants simply did not get the nutrients needed to produce a good yield.

A final look, I checked the Ottawa rainfall data for May 1 to September 5.  The 30 year normal is 357mm, for 2016 we received 321mm.  Years from now some statistician will say, sounds like an average year, only 10% below normal rainfall. As they say, sometimes it is not what you do, but how you do it.  2016 may have had near normal rainfall, but most of it came too late, and in big rainfall events where most of it ran off the fields.   2016 was not a normal year, or at least I hope it is not the new normal.

Until next time

Bob

Sept 8,2016

Temporary fence (white electric tape) provides new pasture for cows from what was a June hayfield.

Sweet Million cherry tomatoes

Everyone is getting ripe. If you want volumes of tomatoes for preserving or freezing, this is the week.

 

The last planting of our three bean varieties, Royal Burgundy, Lewis (green) and Gold Dust (yellow).

The last planting of cucumbers starting to bloom, if we do not get an early frost, cucumbers for the e

Distance and closeness make the heart grow fonder…..

 

Family ties, they may loosen, come apart, get in knots and tangles, be cut, get re-tied, there is nothing stronger and can go through so much life as our family ties to each other.

Thirty six years ago I moved away from my family’s home in Southern Ontario. An eight hour drive does put a long stretch between going home on the weekend to see your folks. Adding to the mileage, the ownership and responsibility of a running farm and Bob’s full time off- the- farm job made thinking of taking a weekend trip less likely. We didn’t get to my family home more than twice a year. My parents would often come during the summer to spend a few days getting to see the grandkids in action. Phone calls just couldn’t replace being there in the 1980’s and 1990’s, pre email and Skype. Being that far from home means special events and just everyday events are lost to you. The calls, letters and parcels certainly helped, but there is regret not being closer to loved ones, and now some family members have passed away.

Family connections when challenged with long work hours, kid’s teen years, elderly parents/grandparents illnesses and deaths, youth’s strong opinions that don’t match yours, age differences and a variety of other moments that come into play can put a wrench in a family. Hanging in there, taking small steps to regain what was lost has proven to shine over hard situations through the years for us.

So when Bob and I have a family weekend with our adult kids back home, chatting and catching up on news and a family meal together, our hearts are full. It doesn’t need to be over many hours or days; much is expressed just by sharing the same space for a while. As our years of farming continue, we plan to make a priority for time to be available to see our kids and travel to their homes when their lives get too busy to take the hours of driving to ours.

Family, it needs attention. The relationship thrives on memories acquired by being together doing things or doing nothing but talking to each other. A family wedding is in the makings, and other natural family changes are occurring, so it is our time to put family first again, as when they were small children. Some things shouldn’t be missed and many things cannot be replaced.

A good reminder to love the ones you love while you can.

To be continued,

Sue

Sept 1, 2016

 

Salad Days at last week’s market raised $600 for the Wakefield Food Pantry. Left to right at the table, salad helpers Linda Bardell and Annick Hardie, and Master Salad Chef Gill Heginbottom.

Little Victor and Poppy have joined the herd on pasture.

Victor has some catching up to do, the calves at left are 3 ½ months older than him. They do grow fast.

Sully the bull is getting a morning face-lick from a cow friend.  Cows daily lick their calves and often another cow.

A good pumpkin crop needs lots of nutrients, lots of heat and lots of water, we got two out of three, so while the pumpkins are ripe, many will be small this year.

 

 

My Olympic “experience”

 

Many of you will remember the 1976 Montreal Olympics, a few of you may even have attended – let me know if you did.

Summer of 1976 was my last summer in university. I was to graduate in December ‘76 from McGill’s agriculture faculty, Macdonald College in Ste-Anne- de-Bellevue. That summer I set myself the goal of becoming fluent in French, the route was to work on a dairy farm in St Etienne de Beauharnois (south shore Montreal)..

Growing up I was a track and field and Olympic nut, knew names, world records etc by heart, so an Olympics in Montreal was a dream come true.  I rented a colour TV for my room at the farm and every night after milking that is where I was.   I had thought tickets for track events would be impossible, that was the case for finals, but part way through the games I realized morning tickets for heats could be purchased walk up to the Big “O” many mornings.  I phoned my roommate in Montreal and we hatched the plan to attend morning track events the last Friday of the games.

Former residents will remember during the 1970s Montreal labour unions would go strike anytime, anyplace, for any reason.  So right on cue the bus drivers went on strike during the Olympics, fortunately Metro and trains were still running.

In the 1970s hitchhiking was very common.  From the farm usually I hitchhiked, through Chateauguay, Caughnawaga, and across the famous (infamous) Mercier Bridge to Montreal (remember that bridge during the Oka crisis). Except this Thursday I left the farm late, then it poured rain, in Chateauguay, result a $20 taxi ride to Montreal, a day’s salary.

Friday morning we made it to the Big O, the atmosphere was amazing, and even an unfinished Olympic Stadium was an impressive sight. My dream of seeing an Olympics had come true. The one event I remember vividly was the 4×100 metre relay heats with the eventual gold medal winner USSR star sprinter Valeri Borzov.  In hindsight I am sure he, like many / most of the Russians and East Germans, were on whatever the drug of the day was.  No wonder Canada did not win a single gold, remember Greg Joy’s silver medal high jump!

But for me the real event was to get back to the farm Sunday night. Sunday evening was the closing ceremonies, and literally every Montreal resident was in front of their TV, the roads were deserted – not good for hitchhiking. After about a 2 ½  hour ordeal I got from Montreal to Chateauguay  (20 minute drive) and started walking the 20 km to the farm. The only person on the road was a teenager trying out his moped bike, after passing at least 3 times, he offered me a ride to the farm.

Seeing the Olympics was amazing, but thanks to one of those “wacko” Montreal unions, the real event of the weekend for thousands of visitors was simply getting to and from the games. Fortunately with time those memories, the bus strike and the huge Olympic cost over-runs have been , almost forgotten.

Enjoy the Games, celebrate the excellence of the athletes and try to forget the politics.

Until next time

Bob

August 11, 2016

 

Our newest to the herd, Victor! His first few days after his long and difficult birth meant he needed Bob to help him steady himself enough to be able to nurse his mother. He has lots of spunk as you can see there is a bit of a struggle holding him for this photo a week ago.

 

Here is Victor today, a week later holding his own, nursing and taking a bottle of milk formula once a day to supplement his mothers limited milk production as she is a young heifer. I had time this morning to observe him as he came up to the gate to check me out, looking for a bottle of milk, then he went on to practise his back kick and some “rodeo” moves as his mother ate quietly her meal of hay, always watchful of where he is and attentive.

 

 

The long wait for this summer’s tomatoes is over, tomatoes 3x/day is the usual routine for us at this time of year.

 

 Our favourite place to be on a Saturday morning, Wakefield Market.

 

 

 

All in a day’s work

 

August 2016

This week I was going to write about our new farm sign, you can see photo below, but then we had one of those days.  It started with a trip to Carp for baler parts, second time on 2 days, then attending a private interment at our cemetery (that happens when you are committee member) to spending the afternoon in the hayfield as James raked and I baled hay.

So the end of day trip with Sue on our ATV to check the cattle was supposed to be a leisurely event. One glance and something was odd, far away a cow was stretched out on the ground as if trying to calve. But our last cow calved the end of May.  Beef females usually start to cycle about a year of age, and are bred to calve at age 24 months, after a 9 month gestation. But once in awhile things happen early. There was about a two week window last fall when bull and 7 month old heifer could get together.  Let’s just call it a teenage pregnancy.

So here we have a 16 month old heifer in full labour, two hooves exposed and the calf’s swollen tongue. Not a good sign, an indication of a long labour.  I figured we would be delivering a dead calf, and the goal was to save the cow.  We brought the heifer home, and after some hard work, and a very difficult delivery with help from James and Sue, we were surprised to deliver a live calf.

For a newborn it is important to get a meal of colostrum as soon as possible. During the first 48 hours of life the calf can absorb antibodies which will give it disease resistance in those early months of life.  But this little guy is tired and will not be up for a few hours so I decide to try some powdered colostrum as an emergency measure.  Usually a newborn calf will a swollen tongue will resist nursing or have great difficulty, but to my huge surprise the little guy nurses like a pro and I have to go mix a second bottle.  Likewise young cows are often poor mothers, confused and frightened by the traumatic experience they had just lived through.  They show little interest for the calf the first few hours, but this cow licks off her calf and is very maternal.

Sometimes Mother Nature gives us a break, given the situation at 6:30pm, a healthy hungry calf, and a young cow that cares for her calf was the last thing I predicted for the end of the evening.    It amazes me how some animals can survive through great stress, but others die in what seems like a minor incident.

We will have to find a special name for this little fellow who keeps surprising me with his will to live. Just another little miracle which makes all the long days on the farm worthwhile.

Until next time, Bob

 

James and Bob installing the new farm sign.

The finished product from    www.signit-signs.com/

of Williamstown, Ontario.

Summer savoury and garlic drying in our woodshed

Environmentally friendly lawnmowers.

We move our temporary fence to the orchard / garden to give the sheep more grass during a dry summer.

Garden tools and summer views

July  2016

As Bob has a working respect for his John Deere tractor, I have come to rely on a couple new purchases Bob ordered this Spring for me. The Big Wheel, as I call her is a handy, easy to use and excellent tool to cultivate and clear out weeds in between rows. Surprisingly, it pushes through the soil without much effort. The other item is the bright green stool , which I use for picking beans, many hours on that stool has made my job more enjoyable, fits well between the rows, good height and comfortable. Flip it and you get to weed without your knees on the ground. Golden years are well here with occasional farmer aches and pains, this nifty stool relieves some of them.

Always  pleasant when you order a piece of equipment/tool that actually does what it boasts in the catalogue.

The small sized step ladder is from my father’s cellar, sturdy and perfect for fitting in amongst the tomatoes to add more twine to string up growing stems and fruit. He would be glad to know it is still useful for us.

New or old anything that makes daily life easier is a keeper.

Sue

 

My Dad’s old but still good stepladder, the big wheel cultivator and garden stool, below. 

 

As with so many comic strips, they often speak the truth. I had to think of Lily and her best friend Tucker who comes to visit her quite often on the farm. Lying on the lawn is a big part of their relationship especially as they gracefully grow old together.

Marie’s dog Tucker, foreground, on his farm vacation, while Lily keeps cool on the “magnificent” lawn.

We love this view from the pasture across the Blackburn Creek, looking east to the back of our barns. Cattle are contented eating their late afternoon tea.

One of my favourite “royal” coloured gladiolas this summer. Old fashioned flowers for an old fashioned farmer.

Baby faced pansies make me smile every morning, and it seems this small bee is finding something to enjoy with their pollen