End of the Rainbow (CSA letter 5)

Oz Farm Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) letter, written in November.

It was late one Saturday night and the lights were still on in the Farm Kitchen, even as the hour hand passed the one o' clock mark, and the only sounds outside were those of owls hooting in the distance.

If, at 22 years of age, I had been going strong into the wee hours of the morning and living in a city, a stranger would suspect that some combination of alcohol, drugs, boys, and strobe lights were at play.

But alas, I was shelling beans, needle felting, and listening to pagan music.
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As Autumn runs her fingers across this land, delicately brushing leaves from the Alders and Maples and breathing frost onto the ground in the night, I find myself more grounded, more confident, more prepared than ever. The cold reminds me that Winter is coming, that my apprenticeship here will be over soon, and that in my remaining few weeks I must savor and store all I can from a season of plenty.

There is a mental calm and quiet I often experience when Nature become chaotic. It is as if the fast pace of the world around me is at last greater than that of my busy mind, and I can focus with intention.

Inspired by the Northern California Women's Herbal Symposium, the wonder-women of Roots Apothecary, and a persistent skin condition, I spend much of my free time harvesting, drying, and tending to herbs both wild and cultivated, and have several tinctures and infused concoctions transforming on the counter top.

And as I prepare to leave farm life and drag myself back to Academia, I am preparing for the garden that I will have wherever I settle. I can't help but prod Tarry and Alysoun for the how-to details of seed-saving. How do I dry tomato seeds? Should the eggplant be rotten before I cut into it? How likely is a pod of kale seeds to produce identical plants? The questions are endless, but I am affirming for myself once again that just doing it is the best way to learn.
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When I look back on my half a year here, I see myself arriving here, unsure if I was physically capable of the demand of farm work, aware of how little I knew about plants, and inexperienced in long-term remote living. I see the cycles of my emotions during my time here, the ebb and flow, the tides of the Pacific, the Moon above, the decomposing leaves below. I watch as I open up to new friends, challenge my beliefs, learn to play with children and communicate with trees, observe the waxing and waning of la luna, discover that "Maude" the wood rat stole my phone to decorate her nest under my tent floor. I see myself fearfully driving the manual farm truck on the 1 for the first time, handling a Kombucha mother, dancing in a tutu, pushing a wheelbarrow full of carrots. I see myself crying in confusion, crying in understanding, singing on top of a hill. I see mistakes, corrections, clarity. I see vegetables and a river. And apples, apples, apples.

I feel like a different person, like a tree with a new growth ring, the memories and history at my core, hidden by new perspectives and a stronger sense of self. I will carry with me the knowledge and skills I have acquired here, perpetually learning and teaching wherever I go, always with the mission of being in service to Life.

My deepest gratitude to each of you for playing a part in my growth, because each box of produce I filled, each bag of potatoes I dug from the Earth, each bunch of Rainbow Chard or beets I admired in the field as together we rotated around the Sun, the more I learned how to live well in this world.

May your health and happiness soar, and may you never cease to appreciate the beauty of everything around you.

Love and moonlight,
Farmer Moss

Funeral for Tito the Duck (CSA letter 4)

Oz Farm Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) letter, written in October.

As I waded into the cold, rushing Garcia carrying his lifeless feathered body, I turned around briefly towards the bank where a crowd of Oz apprentices stood watching silently.

Tito, also known as Franklin, was the most gentlemanly duck a farmer could hope for.
The only duck amongst a flock of chickens, Tito was a guy who took care of his lady duck girlfriends, and was always willing to take a peck at Little Cock (a remarkably small rooster with a big ego and sharp talons) when he got out of line.

And when Tito's final girlfriend disappeared one night, Tito was shaken like I've never seen a duck shaken before, and his human-like depth came through.

For weeks, Tito, with his shining heart of gold, escaped the coop and began a Great Quest to find his beloved. We would find him by the Farm Kitchen, by the parking lot, under Arielle's car, in the orchard, everywhere, always searching for her. His determination was impressive, and his obvious melancholy brought up strong emotions in us all, because the search for love is a universal constant.

We all could understand how Tito felt. He was not just a simple bird-brained duck, he was a guy with feelings, expressing himself through his wandering.

As a member of our small funeral party remarked, "Tito was a stand-up guy".

Rest in peace, Tito-Franklin. You were a swell duck.

With respect and reverence,
Farmer Moss

Baked Apple Deliciousness (straight from the Farm Kitchen)

DIRECTIONS:
Preheat oven to 350. Place 4-5 chopped apples, a handful of raisins, 2 tablespoons of brown sugar or honey, and at least 5 shakes of cinnamon in a glass baking pan. Mix in pan with hands. Add oats, nuts, and granola to top. Bake for 30-45 minutes or until apples are desired crunchy-softness.

Enjoy as is or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.


Pumpkin Soup (straight from the Farm Kitchen)

DIRECTIONS:
Preheat oven to 350. Cut pumpkin in 4 pieces and place on a baking sheet, removing seeds. Bake for 45 minutes or until soft. Scrape out cooled pumpkin and place into large pot of water. Puree pumpkin and potatoes if desired.
In frying pan, saute onions, garlic, carrots, bell peppers and other seasonal produce. Sprinkle salt and pepper all over. Stir contents into pot of pumpkin puree and reheat if needed.

Serve with toast and salad and a cup o' tea.

No Place like Homesickness (CSA letter 3)

Oz Farm Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) letter, written in July/August

Beauty-full CSA members,

There is nothing quite like leaving the farm to really, really appreciate living on the farm!

After 3 months as an apprentice at Oz, I had become homesick for the place of my upbringing (Chico) in more ways than I was even aware of, and 3 months was the longest I had ever been away. I missed places, and people, and those glorious, juicy orange globes they call "peaches" which don't grow in Oz's cool valley home.

I got restless, wanting to get out of the fog and back to the hot, sunny valley where I've spent most of my life. Back to a city, and out of quiet, rural isolation. Back to a place where a calendar can be filled with social events, farmers' markets most days of the week (peaches included!), and leisurely bike rides through the park.

At last, I made my break from the farm and drove East and North, right into the sweltering Sacramento Valley's blue sky stove top. By mid-day, my brain would click off from the heat shock, and at night I'd sweat and try to keep the mosquitoes at bay by covering myself with the thinnest sheet possible. I found city life to be too much; too many cars, too much pavement, too many people, too many text messages, too many distractions, too much going on. I ate a lot of processed food, and watched as my Oz Farm veggie supply dwindled until I had no tomatoes, no lettuce, no carrots left.

I was only gone a little more than a week, but it was enough time for me to realize how truly blessed I am to live the way I do, immersed in the natural rhythm and order of nature, surrounded not by a quantity, but a quality of good, hard-working people who put their hands in the soil every day, and allowing my mind to relax in the simple, secure and peaceful home I have here at Oz.

There are many treasures to be found in cities, but for mental and bodily health, simple beauty, and fresh air, you can't beat rural life.

(Oh yes, and the fresh farm food is alright too!)

I now look forward to my remaining 3 months as never before, and intend to savor every bit of it while I'm here. Please enjoy your veggies, and whatever you have here and now.

Blessings and gratitude,
Farmer Moss

Creamy Artichoke Dip (modified from allrecipes.com)

INGREDIENTS:
Cooked, chopped hearts and tender ends of your artichoke leaves
1 cup mayonnaise (or veganase, of course)
1 1/2 cups grated Parmesan cheese
1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese, softened
1 (4 ounce) can chopped green chile peppers (or fresh ones if you have them)
A sprinkling of chopped salad onion greens and cilantro

DIRECTIONS:
First boil whole artichokes submerged in a pot of salted water for 35-45 minutes or until a fork easily pokes into bottom of stem. Let cool, then cup up edible parts (bottoms of leaves, and the soft, delicious "heart" hiding under it all!)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
Mix all ingredients in a medium-sized bowl, leaving aside 1/2 cup of the Parmesan. Scoop the mixture into a pie pan or baking pan. Top with the remaining 1/2 cup of Parmesan.
Bake for 25 minutes or until bubbly and slightly browned. Serve warm. Dip your green beans or bits of cabbage in it!

Noodle-less Zucchini Noodles (straight from the farm kitchen)

This is the easiest thing you can do with zucchini besides eating it raw, but is nevertheless a great base for any number of pasta sauces. I like making pesto with any greens I can gather as a noodle topping. I have experimented with arugula, kale, chard and basil so far. Ever try making Braising Mix pesto with garlic and walnuts? Tell me how it goes!

INGREDIENTS: zucchini, salt

DIRECTIONS: Bring half a pot of water to a boil with a pinch of salt. Cut zucchini into long, somewhat thin strips, about the thickness of a permanent marker. Place zucchini strips into boiling water and cook, covered, until zucchini is soft, but before it turns to mush. Pour into strainer and top with your favorite sauce and freshly chopped tomatoes! Happy cooking!

Sacred Water (CSA letter 2)

Oz Farm Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) letter, written in June/July '11

Dearest CSA members,

As the sun's warm rays permeate the air and soil here at Oz, the towering sunflowers burst into full bloom, the tomatoes turn all the colors of fire on their climbing vines, and the sweat beads form over bended necks and hula hoes, I hear the messages Summer whispers through the warm breeze, and a suggestion becomes clear: water!

I feel so blessed to have both the Garcia River and Pacific Ocean so near to me. Both are powerful, sacred bodies of refreshing invigoration, and I can't get enough of either. There is little more enjoyable or healing than spending an afternoon wading, splashing, singing, crying and praying in the cool flowing waters around you.

Realizing I needed more ocean time last Sunday, I packed a small backpack full of snacks and drinking water, and was about to start walking the four miles to Manchester State Beach when fellow Oz resident Francis came by the farm kitchen. A relentless and convincing adventurer, Francis suggested a kayak trip instead, and within a half an hour we were paddling from the farm to the mouth of the Pacific, sun shining and birds chirping and gliding above us from start to finish. Six hours later, our fresh river water had turned salty, and I was sinking my limbs deep into the hot sand and watching the waves that join all rivers together.

Water is the basis of life, of our bodies, and of this special land and farm. Let's give our appreciation to whatever water is around us, and thank it for the life it makes possible.

Peace, love and crisp morning fog,
Farmer Moss

Indian Cabbage Egg Curry (from sagariscooking.com)

INGREDIENTS: 3 cups chopped cabbage, 1 cup chopped onions, 4 chopped garlic cloves,4 to 5 eggs, 4 tbs oil, salt, cilantro, 1 tsp cumin seeds and mustard seeds
FOR MASALA : 3 tbs fresh grated coconut , 4 to 5 small green chillis , 1 tsp cumin seeds
METHOD: Heat oil in a pan; add cumin seeds , mustard seeds and garlic. Fry for 1 min and add chopped onions. Sprinkle salt; mix well and cook for 5 min.
Add chopped cabbage. Mix and cook on medium low flame for 10 to 15 min (or until cabbage is cooked).
Meanwhile make a masala powder by grinding green chillis , coconut and cumin seeds. Once the cabbage is cooked , add ground masala and mix well. Then add cracked eggs directly into pan.
Add 2 tbs of water on the corners , cover pan completely, and cook on low flame for 10 min . Sprinkle cilantro on top and enjoy!

Saucy Mossy's "Fire Sauce" (straight from the farm kitchen)

INGREDIENTS: (all numbers are approximations; use your taste buds and good judgement) 1 cup spicy peppers, 1/3 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup vinegar, 4+ cloves garlic, 1 tbs salt.
Add all ingredients into a small pot, cover and cook on low heat until peppers are soft. Add water or oil as needed, and any desired spices (anything from fresh rosemary to tumeric, depending on your style. I'm all about experimenting in the kitchen). Allow to cool, then transfer to a food processor and blend into a puree.

Label your hot sauce with "FIRE" as a warning to the weak! Use in very small doses or add more liquid to dilute. Happy cooking!

Don't Forget to Sing (CSA Letter 1)

Oz Farm Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) letter, written in May '11

"Sow the seeds of your heart/
In the soil of the Earth and don't stray far/
Give them life and water and a blessing/
And don't forget to sing, sing..."
-"Lean in" by MaMuse (a female folk-singing duo from Chico, CA)

Dearest CSA members, vegetable connoisseurs, and coast-dwellers,

Michelle ("Moss") here, with a word about your box o' veggies this week. They may be contaminated... with good vibes, a touch of laughter, and a bit of song.

I am a life-loving, bicycle-riding, fresh-flowers-in-my-hair Northern California native who has been on a series of educational adventures for the past year since taking a leave of absence from CSU, Chico. Those adventures include WWOOFing, bike touring, a couple months exploring Guatemala, and volunteering on Common Vision's Fruit Tree Tour which turned urban school yards into fruit orchards via a veggie-oil bus caravan.

And now, in the final stretch of my year off, I am STOKED to be an apprentice here at Oz Farm!

At Oz, we put love into everything we do, and your veggies are no exception. On Fruit Tree Tour, we asked the kids we worked with what 5 things plants need to grow. Most guessed the first four easily- water, air, sun and soil- but the last and most important one of all...?

That's right: love.

If your veggies taste a little richer, a little sweeter, or your smile grows a little wider with every bite, it isn't just because you're putting healthy and delicious, locally and organically grown food into your bodily temple. It's the love, too.

And believe me, we will not forget to sing to them!
Peace and sunshine,
-Moss

Fava Beans (mariquita.com)
2 pound favas, taken out of the pods
1-4 cloves of garlic, chopped AND/OR:
1/2 cup onions, chopped
olive oil

Put the light green favas (that have been removed from the pod) into boiling water for 1-2 minutes. Remove immediately; rinse in cold water. Take the outer shell off each fava bean, so that you have just the bright emerald green bean. Then cook just the inner brighter green beans in the heated oil with the garlic for 2-3 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Chickpea Spinach Soup (mariquita.com)
2 tbsp olive oil
4 crushed garlic cloves
1 chopped leek or onion
1 tsp ground cumin
2 tsp coriander powder
3 big potatoes peeled and chopped
16 oz cooked (or canned) chick peas/garbanzo beans
5 cups vegetable stock
1 tbsp corn starch
2/3 cups heavy cream or half and half
2 tbsp sesame seed paste
1 bunch spinach, washed and roughly chopped
red chile powder

Heat oil and cook the garlic and onion until soft. Stir the cumin and coriander and cook. Add the stock and the potatoes. Bring to a boil and simmer. Add the chick peas and simmer until both are soft. Blend the sesame seed paste, cream and the corn starch. Add the chile powder and mix into the soup. Add the spinach and bring to a boil. Keep stirring. Simmer for 5 minutes, add the salt and pepper and serve.

The Modern Savage

The Modern Savage (written in May)

Chomping on an organic Jonagold apple,
Perched on a wooden post, reeking of sweat,
Dressed in a plastic bag skirt,
And watching the vultures soar over the Pacific,
I am the Modern Savage.

When not even a caffeine boost
And the widest Granny Gear you ever did see
Could help me,
I watched my leather sandals
Do-si-do beneath me as my wheels turned
In smooth revolutions
And I crept up the highway beside civilized motor-mobiles.

At the top, Wild Radish flowers bloom a vibrant yellow
Deeper and richer than the sun
And dance to the music of icy waves
Lashing at jagged rocks.

When I look into them,
It is impossible
Impossible
To feel anything less
Than unconditional love and compassion for every being on this planet.

The bees, too, understand,
And the seagulls
And the tall grass.

We are all savages
On this inconceivably precious land.

Homeless as the Wind

Written in mid-May

It's 4:20 PM in the tiny coastal town of Mendocino and I'm high- so very, very high- on life.

I am seated on a wooden bench overlooking the Pacific on which lovers have carved their forevers together with knives. J + A? B + R?

I left my mark on the bench not by blade, by dropping a few Birthday Brownie crumbs here (although I'll probably sweep them off before I leave; my mother taught me well.)
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The ocean has kept me company all day, sending magic and a cool breeze through my lopsided hair and gloved fingers, and Salsa's slow-spinning wheels as I rode from my new home at Oz Farm in Point Arena (ozfarm.com), to Mendocino for an overnight bike camping trip on my birthday weekend.

I sang out loud (loudly, no less) and swung my sandaled feet off the pedals jubilantly as I coasted down the hills of the sometimes smooth and shouldered, sometimes shockingly narrow and winding Highway 1. Then would come the bottom of the hill, and the subsequent heavy, meditative breathing, the concentration, the quick glances into my helmet mirror, the clicking of my gears, and the steady increase in heart rate for the ascent.
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This weekend's trip is a birthday present from me to me.

I treated myself to exercise and fresh air, to reflective "me time", to the delicious sights and smells of springtime, and a few tasty treats along the way. I even got a new locally-crafted hemp and huckleberry wood necklace from a homeless man in Mendocino who, along with his companions, would barely let me leave lest I miss one of their many long stories.

I shouldn't call them "homeless", really. Most so-called "homeless" people I've met seem to reject the word as offensive, with its connotations of filfth and poverty, and of no place to go.

But the travelers and the houseless and the nomadic people I've met in my own journeys have been anything but poor; they are always rich in character, in stories, in friends, in skills, in creativity, and many are artists and musicians. They find ways to get by without a permanent residency, and often do it with style (one houseless man I met in Arcata built a bicycle-pulled covered wagon living structure, and was running for City Council when I met him).

And filfth? I cannot deny that some travelers have limited access to showers, but I can attest to the clear minds of the majority I have met. They are not all muttering old fools, but people with diverse backgrounds who often take to the streets by choice. Sometimes this is because they are fed up with society, or with an economic system that makes it almost impossible for anyone to be both financially and spiritually wealthy, or they just couldn't deal with a torrential downpour of unfortunate circumstances. I try not to assume anymore. People just are.
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I sometimes feel like a sneaky anthropologist unrightfully winning trust and access to knowledge of an ancient people who are all but invisible to the mainstream culture. I guess I don't have a house or a car or a "real" job either, but when I pull up on a bicycle laden with panniers and sleeping gear, I sure look the part of someone who jumped off the radar screen ages ago.

But still, I feel a little dishonest about where I come from.

I can slip into conversation with the bums on the sidewalk, and then turn around, sit up a little straighter, and chat with a dentist or business owner (although this is becoming more and more unnatural a transition). I've lived both worlds. I've been coddled and doted upon with material things, and tasted olives on a silver spoon. I've been surrounded by people more interested in the stock market than the fate of the natural world, and by those who care more about how their hair and makeup look than how petrochemicals are affecting their local watershed.
Then I renounced an old way of being, took up everything from dumpster-diving to renting a canvas tent in a backyard for 9 months, and declared my independence.

Am I an imposter dressed in thrift store clothes that smell like sweat and biodegradable peppermint soap, or am I an admirable amphibian simply choosing land over water?
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Tomorrow I will bike South, back through fields of cows and elegant wildflowers, back home to Oz Farm, a certified organic CSA and farmers' market production farm where I'll be an apprentice at for the next three months until I return to school in the Fall.

Then it's back to the depressing grind of a failing and restrictive academic system, devoid of all life and value...

(Just kidding. I'll make the grind radical- you'll see.)

Peace.
-Moss