AGRICULTURE

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin April 10, 2025 Lisette sticking with 272 and Louisette – photo by Mark Scherzer Lisette Has Two MomsHi all, Mark here. Happy Passover and Good Palm Sunday.The title of this bulletin is “Lisette... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin January 20, 2025 The snow before the cold — photo by Mark Scherzer ResilienceHi all, Mark here.It’s the evening of January 19. For the first time this winter, enough snow is accumulating outside... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin January 3, 2025 I bottle feed a frail newborn as mom looks on — photo by Arthur Gary Where Have All the Shepherds Gone?Hi all, Mark here.As if to re-affirm our bond with... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin December 17, 2024 Enter the Season of Miracles — photo by Eric Rouleau A Season of MiraclesHi all, Mark here.Tis the season of miracles. This year, by cosmic design, Christmas and Hanukkah fall... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin December 12, 2024 Frozen in anticipation — photo by Mark Scherzer A Watched Pot Never BoilsHi all, Mark here.”Patience is a virtue.” I don’t know if that’s a view unique to the societies... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin November 25, 2024These need explaining — photo by Eric RouleauJust the Facts, PleaseHi all, Mark here.Most of my life I’ve cultivated an air of detached irony. I offer satiric commentary about the day’s news. I... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin November 7, 2024 A long road ahead — photo by Mark Scherzer The Risks and the BenefitsHi all, Mark here.It’s odd to feel hung over when you haven’t excessively drunk the night before.... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin September 28, 2024 A view clear to Canada? photo by Mark Scherzer The Logic of the SituationHi all, Mark here.I don’t know if it’s the warped workings of my brain or a reflection... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin September 12, 2024 Turkeys returning home from a visit to the fence photo by Mark Scherzer HomeHi all, Mark here.Home is a powerful magnet. When Dorothy tapped her shoes and intoned “There’s no... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin August 29, 2024Orhan and Lale, hanging in the barn photo by Mark ScherzerGetting the MessageHi all, Mark here.From time to time during my office day, I stick my head out of the bathroom window upstairs,... Read More ›

Turkana Farms, LLC  Mon, Aug 12, 9:32 AM (1 day ago) to me  TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin August 12, 2024Folies Campagnardes, Bouquet and photo by Michel BergerinThe Bounty Around UsHi all, Mark here.It's an odd time to be away from the... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin July 30, 2024 The first brave turkeys venture outdoors, Photo by Mark Scherzer Summer’s Turning PointHi all, Mark here.I’m certainly not the only person who’s been dwelling on life transitions lately. During several... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin July 10, 2024 The apricots’ one day season, Photo by Mark Scherzer To Everything There is a SeasonHi all, Mark here.Sorry for the late bulletin. Blame it on the after-effects, which always hit... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin June 25, 2024The sky at dinner at dusk from the porch, Photo by Mark ScherzerStopping at the Porch on a Sultry EveningHi all, Mark here.We need the long tail of the evening these days. The... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin June 10, 2024Sophie, font of wisdom, Photo by Mark ScherzerNo Kumbaya for SophieHi all, Mark here.Thanks to farming, I’ve largely abandoned the illusion that human society is somehow separate from the natural world. I’m comfortable... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin May 27, 2024 Tomatoes replace mugwort, Photo by Mark Scherzer Be PreparedHi all, Mark here.As my last bulletin may have suggested to you, I was not a successful Boy Scout. As reflected in... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin May 13, 2024 Newly arrived turkey poults eat egg yolks for fortification, Photo by Mark Scherzer One of Those MorningsHi all, Mark here.I am a creature of habit and an inveterate procrastinator. Both... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin April 29, 2024 Doodle recently the center of Macho Matt’s affection, Photo by Brian Galletly Getting Our Act Two TogetherHi all, Mark here.I have been holding back from telling the sheep, so as... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin April 14, 2024 Preparing to observe Photo by Steve Gutierrez In the Path of PartialityHi all, Mark here.It’s nearly a full week since the solar eclipse that had North America in a tizzy,... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin April 1, 2024 At long last, the piano readied to move Photo by Mark Scherzer A Dead GiveawayHi all, Mark here.If you read the popular press at all, you by now have heard... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin March 17, 2024The well fed hawk Photo by Mark ScherzerIt’s a Bird Eat Bird WorldHi all, and Happy St. Patrick’s Day. Mark here.Just after lunch on a perfect spring-like afternoon this past week, Eric and... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin March 3, 2024Eric soaks up apricity Photo by Mark ScherzerApricityHi all, Mark here.Feeling the warm winter sun on my face, working my muscles in a steady rhythm, I was able to fully internalize the new... Read More ›

  TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin February 19, 2024 Pullet eggs and other signs of spring Photo by Mark Scherzer Spring to LifeHi all, Mark here. Happy President’s Day.I don’t know how it happened, but over the last week... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin February 4, 2024Nilufer waits for a lift Photo by Mark ScherzerFor Those Who Need a Little Extra HelpHi all, Mark here.I have a bothersome earworm. In my case, it's not a song, but a radio... Read More ›

 TURKANA FARMS, LLCWinter Stasis, Photo by Mark ScherzerSheep Overboard!Hi all, Mark here.The farm seems frozen in place just now. We are in winter stasis. The young pullets that arrived in late August have not yet begun laying eggs. It is... Read More ›

TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin January 5, 2024Not quite at home in the country, circa 1954, Photo unattributedFrom the Start, at Two with NatureAn Introductory NoteThe morning of the third day of this new year found me packing up belongings in my New York apartment and loading them in my car, preparing to surrender the lease and sever my last official connection to New York City. I wasn't sentimental about it; I hadn't slept there in over three years.In the evening of the third day, back on the farm, a stranger called me. He wanted to connect because he had found on line a 2010 bulletin containing my youthful recollections of summers at a bungalow colony in the Catskills, the same one where he spent summers a generation later.I dug out that bulletin and after rereading it decided to reprint it this week. Not because of my innate laziness, but because I thought it was so appropriate, as I make this change, to be reminded of how strange it is for me to have chosen to be in the country full time. I hope those few of you who were reading this bulletin 14 years ago will excuse this little recycling of history. New years are for looking forward, but also looking back.Hi All, Mark here.An interest in farming did not come naturally to me. Mine is the enthusiasm of a convert. In fact, you might say my early life was characterized by a profound alienation from the natural world. I'm not sure I fully understand my own transformation, but any understanding has to start with knowing just how distanced from this world I was.My early childhood was spent in a six-story apartment building in the Bronx. There were some single family homes down the block, with tiny squares of grass and a tree or two, but the view from our window was overwhelmingly of concrete and asphalt. The same could be said of my nursery school and kindergarten, and of the walks to and fro. I'm told that when I was an infant and my parents placed me on the swath of grass in the middle of Pelham Parkway (in the nearby neighborhood where my mother's parents lived), I cried every time I made contact with the strange surface.From an early age, I did come in contact with a rural environment of sorts, but I think you could fairly say nature was something I had touched but not been touched by. We spent summers at Warman's Bungalow Colony, owned and operated by my grandfather and his brothers and sister, in Swan Lake, NY—the Catskills. It had once been a dairy farm, but its former agricultural features had all been transformed to new uses: the barn became the “casino,” site of circuit-riding borscht belt entertainments, bingo games, and itinerant dress sales; the annexed utility rooms became my Tante Jenny's grocery store and apartment; the chicken coop became the laundromat. And the pastures were populated by bungalows (called “kuch aleyn”, or “cook on your own” in Yiddish).The life of the bungalow colony was more or less that of an urban neighborhood plunked down in the country. I gravitated between Jenny's grocery, where my beloved great aunt would indulge me with chocolate marshmallow twists from the freezer, the “lake,” a former cow watering pond where we swam, and the tables set up in the cool shade in front of some of the older bungalows, where I would contentedly listen to the click of the tiles and calls of “one crack, two bam” as my mother and grandmother played endless games of mah jongg. (This was a matriarchy where the fathers appeared to great excitement Friday night and disappeared back to the City again on Sunday.)There was a farm that still operated up the road, but we never went there. Nor did we kids explore the surrounding woods, which seemed dangerous and forbidding. The one open area, at the far end of the property, contained the baseball field and handball court. I only occasionally played baseball. Standing far out in right field (for I was a terrible player relegated to where I would do the least damage), I experienced nature principally as the unpleasant buzz of swarming gnats in the hot sun.The only time, indeed, that I can remember venturing on foot into the “country” was to accompany my grandmother to a large scrubby field full of high bush blueberries across the road. I have vivid memories of the heat, the crescendos of katy-dids, and the scratches to our arms and legs as we filled large enamel cooking pots with the berries. Our discomforts were forgotten when we sat down to one of our favorite summer suppers, blueberries and sour cream.When I was part way through kindergarten, my family joined the exodus to the suburbs, in our case northern New Jersey. You might think this would have introduced me to nature and the outdoors, but in 1950s New Jersey the grass only existed to be mowed. We had no vegetable or even flower gardens, just the classic Ozzie and Harriet foundation plantings. The nearby woodlands, which had not yet been bulldozed for housing tracts, were not particularly dark or deep. While I did at times play there, I don't think I ever distinguished one tree or bush from another.Not until high school and the late 1960s did I begin to spend a significant amount of time out of doors. While I began to appreciate nature in a fashion, there was still a distance between me and my surroundings, viewing them as I did through the lens of an aspiring suburban hippie; that is to say, through a haze of marijuana smoke. “Grooving” on plant life in parks is a pretty narrow way of relating to it. I naively fashioned myself an anarchist, whose ideal was to live in a self-sufficient agricultural commune. Yet even on the verge of leaving home for college, I could not have told you what a string bean plant or a beet in the ground looked like.Leaving my suburban cocoon for college first made me aware of how constricted my relationship to the world of growing things had been. It was a revelation to visit the home of my best friend, George, and to be sent out to the asparagus patch in his back yard to pick spears for dinner. I had never before tasted asparagus, let alone known how it grew. While I reveled in such discoveries, the encounter with other young people who seemed comfortable with the natural world, veterans of Outward Bound or members of the hiking club, made me entirely ill at ease, giving me a tremendous feeling of inadequacy.My self-protective response was to adopt the persona of a staunch urban nihilist, espousing only half tongue-in-cheek a “pave the world” philosophy. Certainly I had the conventional appreciation of beautiful gardens and country landscapes, but only as a foil for what really mattered—the city and most of all New York City. And so I arrived at young adulthood, still alienated from nature, and a most unlikely future farmer in every way.I will leave my story here for now, only to marvel at how strange it is to find myself with the farm as my comfort zone.A forlorn, deteriorated "kuch aleyn" in 2004 at the former Warman's Bungalow Colony photo by Mark ScherzerAttention Christmas Tree DismantlersYour unsprayed Christmas trees, once denuded of decorations, become a welcome snack for the sheep. Feel free to drop yours by.WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKEggs are plentiful and about to get more so, as the new chickens I started in August will start laying soon.In the red meat department, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the not so red meat department, frozen heritage breed turkeys, raised on organic grain, see below, $12/lbIn the vegetable department:The garden is finished for the season. We can still dig: Horseradish root: $2/lb.In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozenWHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours.HOW ABOUT A NEW YEAR'S TURKEY?HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we raised Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates. We still have frozen a couple in the 8 to 9 lb range, and about 6 birds ranging from 11 to 15 lbs. They were delicious for Thanksgiving. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they got big enough to go out, $12 lbFARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM.FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/

TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin December 21, 2023 December Day Dusk Photo by Mark Scherzer Gathering Darkness, Glimmers of LightHi All, Mark here."Gathering darkness" is one of my favorite ways to describe the coming of dusk. In winter, this suggests being enveloped in a warm cocoon when daylight suddenly disappears.This last Sunday, however, dusk did not involve much gathering of darkness. Darkness, thanks to a bank of thick clouds advancing ahead of a major storm, defined the entire day. And though it was mid-December, it was so warm that no cocoon seemed necessary.Was it gloomy? Sure. A perfect match for the gloom induced by a world of war and disintegrating political stability. Was it also a worrisome reminder of dramatic climate change? You betcha!Oddly , the geopolitical situation -- that big-picture human behavior -- feels far more threatening and less manageable to me than the geophysical situation, the vast forces of nature. Why? Because the science of human behavior (the effects of religious ideology, group and personal identity, emotions like trust and distrust) is less understood than the science of physical processes. Also, human actions affect social and political institutions more immediately than they do climate. I don't think the climate is "out to get me" personally, but I fear some humans may be.Finally, at a time when every human institution seems headed in the direction of Armageddon, I can still appreciate and take advantage of the positive aspects of climate change, which are numerous.This fall, I could continue to shower outdoors (my preference) until right around an unusually warm Halloween. In most earlier years, I had to drain the pipes and turn off the outdoor water no later than the beginning of October.This winter, I've been relishing how the mild temperatures so far have made animal care considerably easier. I have not yet plugged in either the submersible tank de-icer in the sheep's water trough or the metal warming plate for the chickens' water tank. The surface ice on the sheep's trough, which sits outside the barn, has been thin and easily broken with a rock. The sheep and I both prefer operating this way. I, because it lowers the electric bill. They, because they prefer their drinking water cold.Even better, the pastures remain green. Moderate daytime temperatures mean fresh forage that lure the sheep out for late season grazing.They love their hay, but in the last couple of weeks they've taken their major meals outside; several times, I've found the hay I placed in the manger in the morning barely touched by evening. "Great," I think, counting my pennies. "The longer I can stretch the hay supply the better!"Last Sunday's and Monday's storm eventually brought an astonishing six inches of rain, the sort of deluge that we're told is becoming increasingly routine as a consequence of climate change. But I still found the bright side: "It sure beats 5 feet of snow. Nothing to complicate my upcoming departure to Quebec for Christmas with Eric and his family." And no trudging through snowdrifts to get to the barn for my soon-to- arrive volunteer farm sitters, Steve, followed by Arthur and Bernard.Some of you will undoubtedly tell me that I'm taking far too benign a view. Pathological positivity, like someone starving alone on a desert island proclaiming the benefits of the quiet atmosphere, or a newly bankrupt stockbroker bragging of his break from crass materialism. I'm not entirely in denial, even about the short-term effects. Mild winters mean too many insect and animal pests surviving. Early spring leads to premature opening of fruit buds and vulnerability to normal frosts, with crop losses like nearby orchards had this year. You will also tell me, no doubt, that climate change in the Hudson Valley cannot be viewed in isolation. While agricultural productivity may increase here, the effects elsewhere, in far more vulnerable parts of the world, will be devastating. And in the grand picture, apocalyptic for all.I acknowledge all that. I agree we must still fight climate change rather than just live as if it will all be hunky dory. The sheer erratic variation of weather patterns we are facing now means that careful planning may prove futile. But does that mean no joy can be found in moments of successful adjustment?Even as we drive toward dystopia, I cling to the expectation that with assiduous effort, modeled on how farmers have always farmed, we can learn to adapt to change in the short term. I've seen Eric's thinking as he gets drawn into the farming mindset. As I closed down the vegetable garden, he enumerated its successes and failures in his methodical way, calculating where production might usefully expand next season and where it might be cut back. It's how we deal with changes in conditions. Humans adapt.OK, maybe I am forcing an unwarranted positivity. But give me a break. I'm looking for glimmers of light in the gathering darkness. And, in a season dedicated to celebrating what light may be gleaned in dark times, I wish for all of you to enjoy similar moments of hope. Take it where you can get it. WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKEggs will continue be available while I'm traveling. Everything else comes back on sale after December 29, when I return. Then we again offer:In the red meat department, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the not so red meat department, frozen heritage breed turkeys, raised on organic grain, see below, $12/lbIn the vegetable department:The garden is finished for the season. We can still dig: Horseradish root: $2/lb.In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozen WHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours. HOW ABOUT A NEW YEAR'S TURKEY?HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we raised Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates. We still have frozen a couple in the 8 to 9 lb range, and about 6 birds ranging from 11 to 15 lbs. They were delicious for Thanksgiving. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they got big enough to go out, $12 lb FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email. HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM. FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/ ©2023 Turkana Farms, LLC | 110 Lasher Avenue, Germantown, NY 12526

TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin December 3, 2023 Entourage of Affection: Doodle, Sophie and Pepsche up front, Orhan and Skunkie behind Photo by Mark Scherzer Getting RealHi All, Mark here."They're so calm and so healthy looking!" Steve's reaction to the atmosphere in the barn, while here on a brief visit last week, mirrored my sense of things. The sheep do seem remarkably robust, cooperative, orderly, and affectionate.These days, it's a joy to be with the sheep. If they are in the barn when I enter, it is entirely predictable that the two closest to my entry door will be Sophie, a four year old ewe, and Doodle, the by now well-known one year old wether. Both were bottle-fed as lambs. Both are positioned to greet me, looking for a nuzzle, a scratch on the cheek, a hello. They are sometimes accompanied by the senior wether, Orhan, middle aged ewes Pepsche or Skunkie, or one or both of the two oldest ewes in the flock, Nilufer and Lale, who are now past breeding age.Lately, before I even clap my hands and yell "Outside", the rest of the flock pretty automatically files quietly out to the front vestibule as soon as I enter the barn.They know they are supposed to wait there. I shoo my little entourage of sheeply affection out to join them. Then I am then able to refill their water, put hay in the manger, replenish their mineral supplement, and distribute a grain treat in their bowls without them all fighting for access under my feet.Steve speculated that the atmosphere is peaceful thanks to the absence of feisty young ramlings this year. He's right that there's little of the chaotic aggression a couple of the young rams evidenced the prior year until they were sent to market.But is Steve describing the cause or the effect of the overall prevailing atmosphere? I'm not sure. There is still ample testosterone flowing in the flock. I don't always do a fully effective job of banding the testicles of the ram lambs I want to neuter. And there is one fully intact ram, Suleyman III, who I chose to keep as a breeder when he was born last March. Contrary to what you might expect if David Sedaris's essay in last week's New Yorker (The Violence of the Rams) is your idea of an authoritative treatise on sheep psychology, obnoxious ram behavior is not absolutely inevitable. Suleyman has a low-key demeanor, with a quiet authority and no apparent need to constantly prove his ramhood.I didn't say it to Steve, but I like to think that some of the calm atmosphere is conferred by me. Maybe I have unconsciously communicated my own overall contentedness with my life with Eric and my network of good friends to my animals, and it has affected their behavior. Or maybe they are benefiting from my conscious effort to convince them they live in a world of loving security. If looking out from the farm I see chaos, killing, hate and vitriol, then dammit I am going to make sure, for the part of the world I can influence, that order, nurturing and love rule here. And from this, I think, there will be ripple effects in the world at large.I will concede that impartial observers might not see things this way. They might see me as living in something of an eccentric farm fantasy world, and maybe they'd be right. Yesterday, for example, a cloudy Saturday afternoon when I could have been shopping for holiday gifts or insulating windows, I instead, to my great satisfaction, worked in the vegetable garden.The vegetable garden in December? Yup. Just before Thanksgiving, in a spate of house cleaning, I had decided it was time to remove from a hook in the kitchen two remaining bunches of garlic cloves that I had hung there many months ago.These were the smallest bulbs of my garlic harvest, far more trouble to peel and chop than it was worth for culinary purposes. I put them in a colander in the mud room, unsure what to do with them.Yesterday I noticed the colander sitting there. With an unstructured afternoon and relatively balmy temperatures in the 40s, I decided it would be lovely to plant those that still seemed viable. What pleasure: the zen of weeding and preparing the bed; the satisfaction of feeding the weeds to the chickens; the recovery of living seeds from a mess of otherwise compostable waste; and the creation for each clove of a cozy home in the dirt. My mind wandered where it would, which was apparently over my shoulder to pat my back.I gave myself credit in the first instance for not having used the cloves for cooking. To me, that represented maturity. There was a time when I would have carried a single idea -- like "raise what you eat" -- to such an extreme that I would have tried to use even those tiny cloves. But no, even good principles can be carried too far. Better, I ultimately realized, to use nice fat fresh garlic cloves from the market.Then I congratulated myself on using the uneaten cloves as seed garlic. Waste not, want not. I was saving and nurturing small bundles of life. Here, I thought, was my antidote to the death and destruction we contemplate daily.Feh, as my aunt Jennie used to say. Get real. My little garlic seeds may not produce anything at all. My little speculations on the cosmic benefits of what I do here are probably best understood as escapist fantasy. I think it's just my way of grappling with a world full of intractable conflicts that prey on my mind, in which the combatants all believe they have unassailably right views and I can contribute no attainable resolution, just anguished doubt.Stick to the basics. The farm produces some food. People need to eat. That much is undeniably good. Recycling my garlic Photo by Mark Scherzer WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKIn the red meat department, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the not so red meat department, frozen heritage breed turkeys, raised on organic grain, see below, $12/lbIn the vegetable department:The garden is finished for the season. We can still dig: Horseradish root: $2/lb.In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozen WHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours. HOW ABOUT A CHRISTMAS TURKEY?HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we raised Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates. We still have frozen a couple in the 8 to 9 lb range, and about 7 birds ranging from 11 to 15 lbs. They were delicious for Thanksgiving. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they got big enough to go out, $12 lb FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email. HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM. FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/

TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin November 13, 2023Matt begins the turkey sendoff Photo by Mark ScherzerNovember Days 2023Hi All, Mark here.Before dawn this very chilly morning, with just a subtle glow visible on the horizon and a heavy frost lining every blade of grass and branch, Macho Matt and I donned head lamps and trundled up to the barn to catch the turkeys while they were still asleep on their roosts. The idea was to confine them, with the least trauma possible, in the portable pen where they had started their journey here back in May. We kept them penned there until a trailer arrived a couple of hours later to bring them to the farm near Canajoharie where they will be processed.All went smoothly. They were groggy for the first stage, and, most likely because they were in familiar surroundings for the next couple of hours, they were almost all calm and composed through the second stage. That's when I got on my knees and crawled into the pen to catch them and hand them out to Matt. He, in turn, took them out two by two and boarded them onto the trailer.Matt came up from the City last night solely to help this morning. He had been here at the start of the season, building the turkeys' roosts in the new barn and setting up their pen. He had kept close tabs on them through visits, reports and pictures all summer. When I suggested that much as I appreciated the help, it was an awfully long way for an hour or two of loading, he responded "I wanted to close the circle. How better to experience the full cycle than to be part of the departure as well as the arrival?" It is, indeed a cycle of life, in which our livestock store up the energy of the pasture by grazing what is available to them in the summer, and then in turn make that energy available to us, in the form of meat, when harvested.The quiet that overtakes the farm when the gobbling chorus suddenly departs creates a kind of melancholy atmosphere which seems appropriate to the season. It fits with the shorter days, falling leaves, and withering vines in the garden, not to mention the state of war that weighs so heavily on us. The sense of melancholy, for me, is intensified because the turkeys have been a particularly joyous component of the farm family, and their presence had made for a great deal of entertainment.I resumed raising turkeys at the urging of my partner, Eric, to whom I had given a turkey within weeks of meeting him six years ago this month. I was so enamored of him after our first meeting that I wanted to give him a reason to come back around. Since then he had often heard me rhapsodize about the joys of turkey husbandry, hence his encouragement that I get back into the game. Eric took to the birds right away. Each time he arrived at the farm, they were his first visit, where he would delight in ululating a high pitched call to them and eliciting an always excited response, delighting me in return.Steve, upon whom fell the challenge of caring for them and rounding them up when Eric and I decamped the farm, was, at first, considerably less enthused. For months had had told me he found them lacking in a certain intelligence for flying one way over the 8 foot fence and not being able to figure out how to fly back. When the turkeys squabbled with each other, he found them not particularly likable.But this last Friday, when a large contingent decided to visit the house, roosting above the mud room and the chicken coop and exploring the back yard in turkey conversation, he confessed being enchanted by their beauty, their curiosity, and their sound. Yesterday, he texted to suggest we keep some back just to have around. I love being proved right!It is, of course, deeply conflicting to one day be admiring their beauty and laughing at their antics, and the next day to be speculating about whether their weights will match up with our orders. How do we reconcile loving them and eating them?My late partner, Peter, with whom I started the farm and the turkey raising endeavor, felt the best way to deal with the contradiction would be through poetry, not prose. I reprint here, with my slight modifications, his effort:“November Days” by Peter Davies(a dirge plays underneath)From my window I surveyed my farm, As I quietly scratched my right arm. The days they grew shorter, My thoughts turned to…slaughter.The trailer was parked in the yard. The frosts got increasingly hard. I struggled my darndest, But my thoughts turned to…harvest.The feed got increasingly expensive, I grew progressively pensive. Ah, my dear ones, I said Tis time you were…deadOinked the pigs to the turkeys: “Aprez vous”. The turkeys replied: “Googlie Goo”! The cows to the sheep mooed “Farewell”, The sheep answered back: “GO TO HELL”!The sad realization was mine That all poultry, pigs, sheep, and kine Are here not just to… need us But also to…feed us.And now, dear readers and listeners, it is your turn. The turkeys are here to feed us, and while the pace of orders has quickened dramatically in the last few days we still have birds we'd like to feed you. See the order form below.Turkeys in their hay filled home Photo by Steve GutierrezWHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKIn the red meat department, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the vegetable department:The garden is finished for the season. We can still dig: Horseradish root: $2/lb.In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozenWHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours.RESERVING YOUR THANKSGIVING TURKEYTURKEY RESERVATION FORM 2023 TURKANA FARMS, LLC 110 Lasher Ave Germantown, NY 12526 farm@turkanafarms.com 917-544-6464 Name__________________________ e-mail__________________________________ Address________________________________________ Phone__________________ Please check here if you would like to receive email offerings in season:______________HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we are raising Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates, which will range from 7 to 18 lbs. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they get big enough to go out, protected on perching bars all night. Slaughtered November 14, briefly frozen, delivered in Lower Manhattan November 20, or at the farm Nov. 20 to 22. . $12 lb plus $5 off premises pick up fee.Number desired: ___________ Approx. weight ________ Pick up place: ___at the farm; ___Lower Manhattan___a point along the Taconic Parkway Please send a deposit of $40 per bird to hold your reservation to Turkana Farms, 110 Lasher Ave., Germantown, NY, 12526. Make check out to Turkana Farms, LLC.(Yes this luddite farm still uses checks). The balance due will be paid at the time of the pick up.FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM.FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/

TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin October 29, 2023Turkeys stroll in a copse of trees Photo by Mark ScherzerWar and Thanksgiving PeaceHi All, Mark here.Ever since 1969, Thanksgiving has meant to me the coziness of home, a celebration of enveloping security. Maybe it represented that to me because Thanksgiving was the first time I returned home after leaving for College. Coming back to a world of parental supervision and support, I always brought with me friends who, because of distance from their homes, needed a surrogate family on that occasion. Our holiday was not highly formal. My mother, an elementary school teacher, offered a sort of "in loco parentis" familiarity I think some of my friends still remember fondly to this day.November weather contributes to the need for a homey, warm event. Thanksgiving is the first major holiday after summer when you really want to sharing a meal indoors.My association of the holiday with a certain cocooning embrace led me recently to confide to an old friend that I could not envision Thanksgiving this year. How could I celebrate it, wracked as I am by feelings of insecurity in war time? I don't know about you, but my daily anxieties about Ukraine have been magnified a thousand fold by the war in Israel and Gaza.The anxiety erupts frequently. Friday, Eric and I were at Irving Plaza in Manhattan. A packed house, almost all 30 or more years my junior, heard Charlotte Cardin, a young singer/songwriter from Québec. It was a phenomenal show, inducing a sort of ecstatic loss of reserve, with her adoring fans voicing the lyrics in her place during their favorite songs. I too was transported. But then I found myself, observing the swaying crowd, wondering whether the young ravers at Kibbutz Re'im had been similarly transported when Hamas invaded and killed 260 of them? What if we were attacked right then?Back at the farm Saturday, the abnormally warm weather had me working outside. But I questioned my privilege to engage in the most routine activity. How could I be glazing, washing and installing storm windows to make my house air tight when so many Gazans, if they had windows left, live in fear of their homes being collapsed on top of them?Yes, we are thousands of miles away from the trouble. But I fear that divisions over the war could cleave our society as deeply as Vietnam did and that it will lead to the same sort of scapegoating as unfairly happened then. I fear being one of the victims of that scapegoating.When I confided to my friend that Thanksgiving seemed impossible with the hovering worries of war, he laughed. He studies history for his work. "Don't you know," he said, "that Thanksgiving was decreed as a holiday by Abraham Lincoln in 1863, right in the middle of the Civil War?"No, I didn't know. Our national myth is that Thanksgiving started when the Puritan settlers of Plymouth, Massachusetts, shared a feast in 1621 with the Wampanoag who helped sustain them, and the holiday just continued. It's more complicated than that. Europeans before they settled here often had harvest festival meals. But the first recorded joint harvest meal between Europeans (Francisco Vásquez de Coronado) and Native Americans (the Teya people) was actually in 1541 in Texas. Government decreed thanksgivings occurred sporadically: in 1777 in all 13 original colonies, in 1789 (decreed by George Washington), and in 1815 (decreed by James Madison). Beginning in 1827, abolitionist author Sarah Josepha Hale began campaigning tirelessly for a nationally decreed annual holiday.Her efforts bore fruit only in 1863, after the Union was victorious in the Battle of Gettysburg, where 50,000 lives were lost. President Lincoln then declared the holiday, in these words penned by Secretary of State Seward:I ... invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, …to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November next, as a day of Thanksgiving... And I recommend to them that while offering up the ascriptions justly due to Him[i.e. God] …, they do also, with humble penitence for our national perverseness and disobedience, commend to his tender care all those who have become widows, orphans, mourners or sufferers in the lamentable civil strife in which we are unavoidably engaged, and fervently implore the interposition of the Almighty Hand to heal the wounds of the nation and to restore it as soon as may be consistent with Divine purposes to the full enjoyment of peace, harmony, tranquility and Union.We should do this year do as Lincoln suggested. Make the holiday an occasion to commit ourselves and our country to do what we can, after the terrible loss of life that will occur in these wars, for reconciliation and peaceful coexistence of the combatants. It is in the spirit of the holiday.And, because this is a farm bulletin, I ask you, in a crass commercial, to consider making Turkana Farms part of your holiday. After a five year hiatus, I once again raised heritage breed turkeys this year. They are slow growing birds, bred for flavor rather than fast growth or enormous breasts. They've been lovingly fed on the finest organic grain from Stone House Farm. They've spent the summer flying where they will, roaming freely in the pastures. Their darker meat and the fat they develop gives them a far richer flavor than your standard butterball. They make unforgettable centerpieces to your Thanksgiving feast.Raising them has been a joy. Processing them has become a challenge, because two nearby facilities have gone out of the poultry processing business (one of them out of business entirely). The birds will therefore be processed on November 14, and they will spend 5 days in a freezer before distribution, either in New York City on Monday, November 20, or at the farm from Monday to Wednesday. I still have unreserved birds, particularly the delectable small hens (7 to 9 lbs) which are ideal for cozier gatherings that to me best embody the holiday. I invite your reservations. Use the form below.Safely devoted fans Photo by Mark ScherzerWHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKIn the red meat department, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the greens department:Swiss chard: $3/bagGreen bell peppers: $1 each Frying peppers: 2 for $1 Jalapeno peppers: 3 for $1 Small hot chili peppers 6 for $1 Horseradish root: $2/lb. Sorrel: $3/bag Spearmint and regular mint $.75 a bunchIn the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozenWHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours.RESERVING YOUR THANKSGIVING TURKEYTURKEY RESERVATION FORM 2023 TURKANA FARMS, LLC 110 Lasher Ave Germantown, NY 12526 farm@turkanafarms.com 917-544-6464 Name__________________________ e-mail__________________________________ Address________________________________________ Phone__________________ Please check here if you would like to receive email offerings in season:______________HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we are raising Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates, which will range from 7 to 18 lbs. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they get big enough to go out, protected on perching bars all night. Slaughtered November 14, briefly frozen, delivered in Lower Manhattan November 20, or at the farm Nov. 20 to 22. . $12 lb plus $5 off premises pick up fee.Number desired: ___________ Approx. weight ________ Pick up place: ___at the farm; ___Lower Manhattan___a point along the Taconic Parkway Please send a deposit of $40 per bird to hold your reservation to Turkana Farms, 110 Lasher Ave., Germantown, NY, 12526. Make check out to Turkana Farms, LLC.(Yes this luddite farm still uses checks). The balance due will be paid at the time of the pick up.FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM.FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/ ©2023 Turkana Farms, LLC | 110 Lasher Avenue, Germantown, NY 12526

TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin October 15, 2023Two in One by Antoinette Schultze. Israel and Palestine? Photo by Eric RouleauBlind Rage: A Tale of Two StatesHi All, Mark here.This bulletin is generally intended to be a chronicle of my life through the prism of the farm; sweet tales of caring for animals and growing plants, while I tangentially remind you to buy the farm's products. But I haven't been mentally engaged with the farm this week. Instead, I have been obsessively following the awful events in Israel and Gaza.I address that situation knowing well that much ink has already been spilled, and you may find it not my place to chime in. I have the sort of visceral connection to Israel that comes from having a father who was a Holocaust survivor. When my parents married in 1948 (the year the state of Israel was founded) they debated moving there. But not only did I end up American, I have never even visited Israel.I also know that any expression of my views is likely to offend someone. All week I've had an heated debates with my friends. But those are hardly as anguished as the debate with myself that's been ping-ponging in my brain all week.When I first heard of Hamas's horrific pogrom, my white hot rage led me to say "bomb them to smithereens." Within a day, I did an about face. Horrified at some Israeli rhetoric about reducing Gaza to rubble, I told myself "It's wrong to respond to war crimes with bigger war crimes, like putting the civilian population under siege. And it's stupid, because It erodes Israel's legitimacy."But then I asked myself if I was ignoring the lessons of history. "Passivity can be suicide. If someone attacks you, hit back twice as hard, or you will be eradicated." You won't eradicate Hamas's ideology with force, but you may deter more such pogroms. So yes, hit back hard, but how?With each new snippet of news or opinion I had more questions to ask myself. Were Hamas's actions explicable as a natural reaction to years of oppression? No, I decided, there is nothing inevitable about barbaric savagery. National liberation movements can succeed without committing heinous crimes. Look at India or South Africa.Is this all about positioning for the terms of a two state solution? No, it seems neither party leading this fight wants to achieve that end, even if substantial numbers of Israelis and Palestinians do. On the Hamas side, I see banners decrying "75 years of occupation." That says it all. What was founded 75 years ago was a smaller Israel than the one with 1967 borders that on which all two state proposals have been based, so it is really the existence of Israel itself that is claimed to be an "occupation." For its part, the Netanyahu government has been doing everything in its power to make a two state solution impossible by grabbing ever more Palestinian land, and several cabinet ministers advocate annexing the West Bank.Thus, the war is being led on one side by an organization that wants to push the Jews into the sea and on the other side by a faction constantly scheming to push Palestinians off the land. The fears they engender feed off each other. No wonder both extremes believe that the only solution is for the other side not to exist.I not only debated myself but had imaginary confrontations with the progressive activists (my otherwise natural political allies) on elite college campuses who horrified me by celebrating Hamas's atrocities as "acts of resistance" before Israel took even the first step of retribution.They seem to advocate dismantling the Israeli state because it is a European colonizing settler entity. That strikes me as ignorant, prejudiced and hypocritical.Ignorant, because most Israeli Jews are not of European origin, but originate rather in the Middle East and North Africa. They came when Israel was founded because they were unwelcome or persecuted in their native lands. In that sense, the Palestinian Nakba was part of a redistribution of population internal to the region, a version of a not very pretty process that occurred widely in the 20th century as the empires that kept a lid on inter-communal tensions broke up (e.g. Turkey and Greece, Pakistan and India). Sure, substantial numbers also immigrated from Europe generations ago, but the current population of Israel was mostly born there.Prejudiced, because the dismantling of Israel means the surrender by Jews of their right of self-determination as a people. The neighboring countries in the Middle East are mostly ruled by Islamic super-majorities, who impose religiously inspired laws to the substantial prejudice of religious minorities. Yet these campus progressives only demand that Jews, and none of their Islamic neighbors, surrender their right of self-determination.Hypocritical, because we here in America are the ultimate European colonizing settler state, requiring the indigenous inhabitants to live according to our laws, but I haven't heard any serious proposals to dismantle our government or hand the land back to the First Nations. Nor do I see how the objection to European Jews seeking refuge in Israel is consistent with the progressives' more laudable view that being a safe haven for refugees from around the world is a proper national endeavor, particularly for our nation.By the end of the week, my head was spinning. Thankfully, in Friday's New York Times I found articulated opinions that really spoke to me: one by an Israeli reservist returning to fight for his country while refusing to regard Palestinians as his enemy; the other by UN Secretary General Gutteres, eloquently making the case why Israel's response cannot ignore the international law of war. I commend them to you.With others articulating for me opinions I felt I could adopt, I could finally focus my mind back on the farm. Today, observing my flocks of turkeys and sheep, it occurred to me that neither flock ever breaks down into warring tribes. If the human proclivity for tribal warfare reflects evolution at work in the human brain, I'm not sure that evolution has really made us more evolved.Material Energy by Peter Barrett: Precarious balances. Photo by Eric RouleauWHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKIn the red meat department, recently back from the processor, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the greens department:Swiss chard: $3/bagGreen bell peppers: $1 each Frying peppers: 2 for $1 Jalapeno peppers: 3 for $1 Small hot chili peppers 6 for $1 Horseradish root: $2/lb. Sorrel: $3/bag Spearmint and regular mint $.75 a bunch Garlic chives $.75 a bunch Green Shiso leaves 10 for $1 (10 cents each)In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozenWHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours.RESERVING YOUR THANKSGIVING TURKEYTURKEY RESERVATION FORM 2023 TURKANA FARMS, LLC 110 Lasher Ave Germantown, NY 12526 farm@turkanafarms.com 917-544-6464 Name__________________________ e-mail__________________________________ Address________________________________________ Phone__________________ Please check here if you would like to receive email offerings in season:______________HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we are raising Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates, which will range from 7 to 18 lbs. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they get big enough to go out, protected on perching bars all night. Slaughtered the Sunday or Monday before Thanksgiving, delivered fresh, not frozen, in Lower Manhattan, at points along the Taconic Parkway, or at the farm. $12 lb plus $5 off premises pick up fee. Note: These sell out early.Number desired: ___________ Approx. weight ________ Pick up place: ___at the farm; ___Lower Manhattan___a point along the Taconic Parkway Please send a deposit of $40 per bird to hold your reservation to Turkana Farms, 110 Lasher Ave., Germantown, NY, 12526. Make check out to Turkana Farms, LLC.(Yes this luddite farm still uses checks). The balance due will be paid at the time of the pick up.FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM.FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/ ©2023 Turkana Farms, LLC | 110 Lasher Avenue, Germantown, NY 12526

TURKANA FARMS, LLCGreen E-Market Bulletin September 30, 2023Looking at the Sunny Side: Jerusalem Artichokes in Bloom Photo by Mark ScherzerThe Sunny Side of TownHi All, Mark here.With Yom Kippur over and Eric returned to the City, I started this week ready for my first extended stretch in months without company on the farm. I resolved with great energy to make dramatic progress on organizing EVERYTHING.Tuesday, I managed a packed office schedule, plus made progress on mucking the barn and harvesting vegetables. Tuesday night and Wednesday morning I finished updating a several-weeks-overdue chapter of a legal treatise. I followed that with a big feed run (for the critters and me). To be super-efficient, late Wednesday I consolidated two vaccinations (COVID and RSV) into a single drug store visit, and got back to the farm before dusk.Chores that evening went well. After shooing most of the turkeys into their side of the barn through the north door, and heading the sheep off from following the turkeys in to devour their grain, I noticed a blue slate hen outside the east door, strangely immobile.As I approached, I saw that a single length of twine had gotten wrapped around one ankle and several toes, and then around the other ankle. The strand connecting her legs acted like shackles. Unable to advance a single leg independently, she just stood still.Catching her was easy, the rest of the rescue much tougher. Kneeling, I clutched the hen to my chest as she struggled against me. As my right hand held her foot, my left hand carefully sawed through the twine with a pocket knife. Several times, as I tried to wield the knife without cutting her, she broke free. When she did, a large tom began attacking her because she moved so strangely. For all their wonderful qualities, turkeys tend to attack and kill any of their flock who move erratically or otherwise appear to be sick.Ultimately I disentangled her, but I feared that she might have sprained a foot in one of the breakout attempts, making her vulnerable to further attack. She walked gingerly at first, but when I returned from feeding the sheep 20 minutes later, she was moving so normally I couldn't pick her out from flock. I was elated, energized by my success.My energy lasted until I was overtaken by headache, chills, and fatigue late that evening. I regretted getting both vaccinations at once. By Thursday morning I was too weak to carry the newly purchased 50 lb. feed sacks from the car to the barn. I recalled George Atkinson, a retired Livingston dairy farmer, telling us how he had no choice but to milk his cows when he had the flu. Shivering with fever, he would alternatively milk and stick his head out the barn door to vomit. I thought: "George was a stronger man than I."As my energy plummeted, so did my mood. I ruminated about Ukraine, the looming government shutdown, the coming presidential election. I worried about a big check, "in the mail" for the last month, that had not yet arrived. Then, with my head still throbbing Thursday afternoon, Macho Matt linked me to a New York Times article about Germantown (["Germantown, N.Y.: An Upstate Haven That Beckons Creatives"])(https://www.nytimes.com/2023/09/27/realestate/germantown-upstate-ny.html?). Its principal message bummed me out. The backwater I moved to some 23 years ago is now a trendy magnet destination. Having come here to get away from it all, it seems that the "all", celebrities and luxury goods included, has caught up with me.The article flashed me back to shopping with my late partner, Peter, at Marder's, a garden center near our former Sag Harbor "country" home. Dressed in gardening duds rather than the gauzy summer whites featured by most fellow shoppers, we were often mistaken for the help. When a fancy dame imperiously asked "Take these plants out to my car, please," it was a signal moment, helping us realize we did not feel so at home in the Hamptons and should consider moving upstate.To be sure, articles like the one in the Times, meant to appeal to property shoppers from the City, could be written, changing only names and a few details, about dozens of Hudson Valley hamlets. Still, I wondered whether Germantown would soon become too Hamptons-like for me. I happily buy artisanal cheeses and fresh baguettes at Otto's Market. It sure beats the messy store, four iterations ago, I found upon moving here, with produce choice as minimal as the corner bodega where my grandmother shopped in Washington Heights. But Main Street is distinctly up-market. We've got designer goods at what a neighbor calls the Hundred Dollar store, but no place that sells fresh meats or fish, no drug store, no basic hardware. A recent New Yorker cartoon summed up the feeling. Two city visitors phoning from a "Weekend Upstate" main street: "There's four antique stores, three quirky cafés, one shop that sells only socks and another that only sells socks and maple syrup, and nothing opens until noon."Also, I'm glad that the hostility we faced from some quarters as the first gay couple on our street has become less acceptable in a more racially, ethnically and sexually diverse community. But I have no particular desire to live in "Gaymen Town," as one interviewee dubbed it.As my health and mood have recovered, my concerns about this article have diminished. First, I have to acknowledge being part of the very Hamptonization I'm complaining about, by moving here with my city tastes. Gentrifiers don't get to freeze time at their arrival. Also, I think there's too much territory, and too much of a real non-resort economy in the Hudson Valley, for glitzy City culture to completely overwhelm the local one. With old and new populations so evenly balanced, the Democrats running for Town Board tout their collaboration with their Republican fellow board members to solve local problems -- refreshingly different from the take-no-prisoners polarization in Congress.After all our recent rain, I'm looking at the sunny side. Overall, Germantown seems in a pretty good place, and I intend to stick around.WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKIn the red meat department, recently back from the processor, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the greens department:Swiss chard: $3/baggreen zucchini, $1 each Green bell peppers: $1 each Frying peppers: 2 for $1 Jalapeno peppers: 3 for $1 Small hot chili peppers 6 for $1 Horseradish root: $2/lb. Sorrel: $3/bag Spearmint and regular mint $.75 a bunch Garlic chives $.75 a bunch Green Shiso leaves 10 for $1 (10 cents each)In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozenWHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours.RESERVING YOUR THANKSGIVING TURKEYTURKEY RESERVATION FORM 2023 TURKANA FARMS, LLC 110 Lasher Ave Germantown, NY 12526 farm@turkanafarms.com 917-544-6464 Name__________________________ e-mail__________________________________ Address________________________________________ Phone__________________ Please check here if you would like to receive email offerings in season:______________HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we are raising Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates, which will range from 7 to 18 lbs. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they get big enough to go out, protected on perching bars all night. Slaughtered the Sunday or Monday before Thanksgiving, delivered fresh, not frozen, in Lower Manhattan, at points along the Taconic Parkway, or at the farm. $12 lb plus $5 off premises pick up fee. Note: These sell out early.Number desired: ___________ Approx. weight ________ Pick up place: ___at the farm; ___Lower Manhattan___a point along the Taconic Parkway Please send a deposit of $40 per bird to hold your reservation to Turkana Farms, 110 Lasher Ave., Germantown, NY, 12526. Make check out to Turkana Farms, LLC.(Yes this luddite farm still uses checks). The balance due will be paid at the time of the pick up.FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email.HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM.FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/

TURKANA FARMS, LLC Green E-Market Bulletin September 17, 2023 Leader of the Flock: Back from the Far Pasture Photo by Mark Scherzer A Partial ReflectionHi All, Mark here.Saturday morning didn't start so well. The expensive self-propelled lawnmower I bought last May, just back from repairs two weeks ago because some parts in the engine were missing, making it idle too fast, had to go back again. Now the electric starter, one of its most attractive features, was completely dead.As I loaded the mower into the car, I heard several turkeys uttering distress calls up near the barn. Such calls often happen when a turkey flies over the eight-foot fence and can't figure out the way back to its mates because it is right up against that fence. But they generally lack urgency; the tone conveys frustration. The calls this morning were louder, more constant and had a desperate quality, demanding immediate attention.Approaching the barn, I saw just four turkeys. They were fine. So why the distress? It took just seconds to figure it out that they weren't looking through a fence wanting to join the rest of the flock. Rather, all the others had disappeared. Their deep distress was fear that they had become flockless.I feared the same. I saw no turkeys in their yard or the nearby pasture. None were in the barn. Other than these four, there was turkey silence. Had they decamped into the woods or onto the road? What would I do with only four turkeys left when I had customer orders already in hand? “Am I being punished,” I wondered fleetingly, “for working on Rosh Hashanah instead of praying in synagogue?”Just days before I had seen the turkeys cross the fence line to the far northern section of pasture beyond the shale road and graze there, requiring me to trek out, open the gate and, in my role as flock leader, to march them back in (see pic above). I speculated that they might have gone there again, only further, invisible behind the ridge. But when I marched out they weren't there!Increasingly nervous, I turned back and went southwest toward the former pig pasture. Still silence. But as I descended the hill, finally two white forms appeared running out of the brush, one's beak locked on the other's neck, a battle for supremacy in motion. A few seconds later, dozens more materialized, like humans, gathering to watch the brawl. I heaved a sigh of relief. I had not been deserted. Really, it was a little silly for me to worry about divine punishment. Rosh Hashanah is just the start of ten days of repentance in the Jewish calendar. Not until Yom Kippur would the balance of my good and evil deeds get toted up, and my punishment, if any dictated.Nota bene: If the turkeys are to stick around, they need to feel wanted. It's not too early to start focusing on your Thanksgiving plans. If you have not yet reserved your bird, now would be a good time.From the time of the turkeys' reappearance, my very idiosyncratic Rosh Hashanah improved. I perhaps should explain that my parents taught me to be an atheist. Yet they sent me to orthodox Hebrew school and I was bar mitzvahed in an orthodox shul, which my parents explained to me as a mark of respect for my grandparents. That education left me with the residual disposition, even as a nonbeliever, to engage in a period of reflection at this time of year, contemplating my good deeds and my bad ones, and resolving how to improve. More than sitting in a crowded room struggling to read Hebrew words I don't understand, it is in the repetitive, intellectually undemanding farm work of weeding, shoveling, hauling and planting that my mind manages to enter a meditative, reflective state.What came to mind when I entered this zone? To begin with, context. It's easier to be good when things are good, and I had to recognize the good fortune I've enjoyed. The farm sustains me both as a process and with its products. I was struck yesterday, as I cleared vines off the raspberry patch and uncovered a bounty of raspberries, and again as I harvested corn from a stalk that just volunteered to grow next to the garden, how much it gives even when I don't do the work it really demands.I am joined on that farm by a very loose kind of intermittent family, some inherited but mostly assembled without my having had much intentionality about it. The cast of characters you've met in this bulletin is a contemporary approximation of the fantasies of living on a hippie collective I entertained but never had the nerve to pursue in my youth. As my brother-in-law said as he departed his last visit, “It's always nice to visit the commune.”Beyond that, I've had the enormous luck to love a man who loves me back and with whom I am building a life. I've enjoyed good health and my age has not yet significantly diminished my function.Have I done enough good acts to merit that good fortune? Honestly, probably not. Pressed to come up with some novel good acts of the preceding year, only one stood out: Belatedly, I've started to frankly express my appreciation to those who have made my current life possible. My default expression as a younger man was self-indulgently “woe is me.” Now, it is more often “thank you.”The thanks go not only to my friends and loved ones. In May, I visited my now 91-year-old, still very vital college mentor, an anthropology professor whom I thanked for teaching me the analytic skills I have used to navigate ever since. More recently, I tracked down my high school French teacher, now 78 and living in New Mexico, who in her first teaching job some 56 years ago taught us the pop songs of artists like Gilbert Bécaud. I thanked her for a little piece of stored knowledge that helped me endear myself to Eric by being able to sing along. We've struck up a correspondence, and she's once again improving my French.An afternoon focused on my good acts was necessarily short. It left plenty of opportunity over the next nine days to ruminate on the bad ones, which I may or may not share in a subsequent bulletin. Corn volunteers among the mugwort Photo by Mark Scherzer WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEKIn the red meat department, recently back from the processor, frozen lamb:Butterflied legs of lamb $16/lb Rib or Loin chops (packs of 2) $14/lb Small racks of lamb $14/lb Riblets (breast of lamb) $8/lb Lamb shanks (packs of 2) $12/lbIn the greens department:Swiss chard: $3/baggreen zucchini, $1 each Petite Green bell peppers $1.00 each Cucumbers: Suhyo long or regular slicing $1 each Green bell peppers: $1 each Frying peppers: 2 for $1 Jalapeno peppers: 3 for $1 Horseradish root: $2/lb. Sorrel: $3/bag Spearmint and regular mint $.75 a bunch Garlic chives $.75 a bunch Green Shiso leaves 10 for $1 (10 cents each)In the yellow and white palette: Eggs: $6/dozen WHAT ELSE IS AVAILABLE THIS WEEK - AN 1878 SQUARE GRAND PIANO FREEThat's right folks, I have finally as of July 27 received a Department of Environmental Conservation permit to transfer this antique piano, with its ivory keys. It has a venerable history and I want to find it a good home. You'd just need to come get it. Please email me at markscherzer@gmail.com or call at 917-544-6464 if you'd like to make it yours. RESERVING YOUR THANKSGIVING TURKEYTURKEY RESERVATION FORM 2023 TURKANA FARMS, LLC 110 Lasher Ave Germantown, NY 12526 farm@turkanafarms.com 917-544-6464 Name__________________________ e-mail__________________________________ Address________________________________________ Phone__________________ Please check here if you would like to receive email offerings in season:______________HERITAGE BREED TURKEYS: This year we are raising Holland Whites, Chocolates and Blue Slates, which will range from 7 to 18 lbs. Fed on organic feed, pastured all day once they get big enough to go out, protected on perching bars all night. Slaughtered the Sunday or Monday before Thanksgiving, delivered fresh, not frozen, in Lower Manhattan, at points along the Taconic Parkway, or at the farm. $12 lb plus $5 off premises pick up fee. Note: These sell out early.Number desired: ___________ Approx. weight ________ Pick up place: ___at the farm; ___Lower Manhattan___a point along the Taconic Parkway Please send a deposit of $40 per bird to hold your reservation to Turkana Farms, 110 Lasher Ave., Germantown, NY, 12526. Make check out to Turkana Farms, LLC.(Yes this luddite farm still uses checks). The balance due will be paid at the time of the pick up. FARM PICKUPS:Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464 or email. HEAR OUR SHOWIf you'd enjoy hearing these bulletins out loud instead of reading them, we broadcast them on Robin Hood Radio, the nation's smallest NPR station. You can find it on FM 91.9, AM 1020, WBSL-FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School" or streaming on the web at www.robinhoodradio.com, where podcasts of past broadcasts are also available under the title AgriCulture in the "On Demand" section. FM 91.7 "The Voice of Berkshire School"can be heard from just south of Pittsfield to the CT border. You can hear the station on WHDD FM 91.9 from Ashley Falls, MA down through the Cornwalls and in NY from just south of Hillsdale down to Dover Plains. You can hear the station on AM1020 from Stockbridge, MA to Kent and from Poughkeepsie to Pawling to Kent, Goshen, Torrington, Norfolk, and Ashley. Recently added for those in the Route 22 corridor from Ancram down to Pawling is FM frequency 97.5 And of course you can listen in our own neighborhood of Southwestern Columbia and Northwestern Dutchess County, where it is being broadcast from Annandale on Hudson, 88.1 FM. FOLLOW USThe bulletins may also now be found in written form on line as well, at the Germantown, NY, portal ofhttp://imby.com/germantown/userblogs/agriculture-turkana-farms/

Hi All, Mark here. I loved the look of agriculture long before I ever had a farm. Yesterday I was struck by the geometric artistry of long rows of corn, lined up like so many soldiers in formation, undulating over a hill nearby. It recalled to my mind other images filed away in my album of landscape "greatest hits": potato fields I would bike past some thirty five years ago, all in white or purple bloom, gently sloping toward the ocean on the East End of Long Island; endless rows of perfect sunflowers along the roads of Thrace, injecting a bright vital energy into an otherwise dull flat landscape. These scenes are painted on a wide canvas, planted by machine, and using plants that have been developed to replicate each other as exactly as possible. I don't know whether pesticides, herbicides or insecticides are used to keep the spaces between the planted rows weed-free and bare. Nonetheless, the plants that compose the tableau are magnificent living things and the visual effect of their uniform arrangement appeals to me in much the same way that a Busby Berkeley production number does. From the chaos of living organisms, a sense of order and harmony achieved. The closest my farm comes to the tableaux I find so appealing is the pasture. The pasture is not comprised of just one type of plant. A variety of grasses, grains, clovers, and legumes all mix chaotically. They are, however, chewed down to the visual uniformity of a carpet by the sheep and cows that graze there. It's the same sort of order we achieve in the yard by mowing the grass. The view of pasture with the woods behind looks planned, ordered, and beautiful. This is so even though the margin between pasture and woodland is shifting, contested territory and the woodland itself is also a chaotic mix of whatever can opportunistically seed itself and enter into a sort of jostling coexistence, or even symbiosis, with the trees, bushes and undergrowth already there. From a distance, even the chaos of the woodland fades into a pleasing uniformity. It's a kind of visual order I would love to see everywhere, but which I've only partially achieved in the areas like the vegetable garden where the results are reliant on my personal efforts. You may remember that one of my major goals for this season was to reconfigure the vegetable garden according to a more Cartesian, rational plan that Eric and I developed together. The plan involved new boundaries, new fencing to keep out groundhogs and rabbits, and replacing most of the existing circular planting beds with new rectangular beds. It required digging up a whole lot of sod and removing enormous stands of mugwort and other weeds I had allowed to invade in fallow areas in the past couple of years. It was a far more ambitious undertaking than I had anticipated. By some measures, we've made great strides. The fencing has been almost entirely finished and for the past several weeks has succeeded in keeping out groundhogs and all but one pesky rabbit. Plants like Swiss chard, broccoli and parsley that didn't survive the critters' gnawing last year have been doing well this year. Of the 24 planting beds we planned for the main garden, 18 have been created and planted. Where about 20 tomato plants struggled last year in the tomato patch, this year there are over 75, and half a dozen tomatillos as well. The little orange sungold tomatoes are already coming in regularly, and I harvested the first ripe Black Krim last week. My summer counteroffensive against the mugwort, however, bears some resemblance to the Ukrainian counteroffensive in the Donbas. I am making some discernible progress and will ultimately emerge victorious, but the weed is entrenched. Mugwort has been eliminated from more than 75% of the tomato patch and the north end of the vegetable garden proper, but in the main garden the southwest corner, and the east side between the pumpkins and the zucchini are all still in enemy hands. Even from a distance, aggressive patches of mugwort stand as a rebuke to the landscaped look I so desperately wanted to achieve this year.Eric thinks my commitment to doing it all by hand is what stands between me and achieving my garden goals. He is right. I have no good response for this. I apparently crave the Sisyphian challenge, and must grasp at a small measure of vindication by appreciating each tiny patch of order I create. And eating the results. Last Sunday, along with the first Black Krim tomato, I brought in the first impossibly shiny yellow Golden Rod zucchinis, and the first cucumbers (both standard Marketmore slicing cucumber and suhyo long, a Chinese variety with a bumpy skin and a curvy growth habit). We are harvesting blackberries in great profusion. In gratitude to macho Matt, who installed a new mailbox and fixed a gate affected by the recent storms during a recent visit, I was able to make the kind of vegetarian meal he prefers largely from the garden: Swiss chard leaves stuffed with a rice mixture that included our own turnips and herbs, braised chard stems, a Turkish salad of chopped tomato, suhyo cucumber and onion, and cacik, the cucumber, yoghurt and mint dish. It's not yet the summer harvest of my dreams, but it's by a large margin better than last year. I've been plagued by dreams this week of actions uncompleted -- last night it was trying unsuccessfully to reach a hardware store before it closed, the night before it was having my plate cleared before I could finish eating a poppy seed muffin. I can't help but think these are in part displaced fears about whether I will ever close the gap between my ambitions and actualization in the garden. But, I tell myself, the season is not over. There are six more beds I can dig, fall vegetables like collard greens, daikon radish and spinach to plant. And by next year, I tell myself, we will surely have the vegetable garden we've been dreaming of.

A deadly chewed rhubarb leaf Photo by Mark Scherzer "It's just like Checkov's gun!" Steve practically hooted into the telephone. As if my call was all about the plot of some comedic play, and not serious business. It was not exactly the reaction I expected after I called him to say I was afraid I might have killed Doodle, the sweet lamb who was rejected by his mother at birth while Steve was minding the farm last July, and has bonded with us human caregivers, Steve in particular, ever since. To be fair, Steve didn't hoot derisively until he had figured out, through an extended discussion of the circumstances, that Doodle's demise was highly unlikely. I had told him that I had been doing chores Tuesday evening and was transferring a cartload of compost to the vegetable garden with Doodle in my company, as is typically the case when I'm near the barn. I wanted to dump some nourishment on a planting bed I was preparing near the rhubarb patch. And before I knew it, I saw out of the corner of my eye Doodle munching on a rhubarb leaf. Knowing that rhubarb leaves are poisonous to humans, I yelled out and ran over, trying unsuccessfully to get whatever he was munching out of his mouth, and rushed him out of the garden. Extremely concerned, I immediately texted Gillian, the wonderful vet, who is particularly expert in sheep matters. She texted me back right away, confirming that rhubarb leaves are poisonous to sheep too. They can cause sudden kidney failure and death soon after ingestion, or kidney problems in the following days. She advised that I should give Doodle 60 ml of mineral oil by mouth to prevent absorption and that in the following days I should monitor his urination to be sure he was not developing kidney stones. (To be honest, I wasn't quite sure how I would do this. I am rarely around to see Doodle urinate, and I'm not sure if I followed him for a couple of hours I would see him pee, or would know if the quantity or quality of urine was different from normal.) Fortuitously, I knew I had some mineral oil, because I had come across a container the day before in the garage. I'm not sure why I had it originally or why it was in the garage, but I was able to get it right away and measure out 60 ml into one of the baby bottles that I had previously used to feed Doodle his milk replacer. I used a nipple with an exceptionally large opening, in the expectation that I might have to pour it down his throat. I didn't have to, because at 9 months old he still remembered exactly how to drink from a baby bottle once I got it in his mouth. But because of the large opening, during the process of getting it into his mouth a fair proportion of it had dripped out on my hand. Determined that I had to give him more quickly, I headed back to the house. It helped expedite matters that Doodle was all too happy to tag along with me. We walked right into the kitchen, and he took the bottle with the additional 20 ml of mineral oil without complaint. "People kill the things they love," was the refrain that went continuously through my mind. I was extremely concerned, so I googled as much as I could quickly find about sheep and rhubarb leaves. I was pleased to find several accounts of people whose sheep had ingested rhubarb leaves without apparent consequences, and to find that in order for the oxalic acid in rhubarb leaves to have significant effect on a human being, one would have to eat about 2 lbs of leaves. Even extrapolating down to Doodle's size of about 35 lbs, it began to seem highly unlikely that the small portion of one rhubarb leaf he had been able to eat in the less than a minute we were there could do him significant damage. Though my fears were somewhat quelled, I felt compelled to let Steve know about the situation. While I play the parental role on a daily basis, it was Steve who cared for him right after birth, got Gillian involved to save him from certain death back then, and who comes closest to being Doodle's birth mother. A couple of weeks ago, while Steve was again visiting, it was remarkable to see how they communed, with Doodle nuzzling him and seeming to try to nurse on Steve's shirt. If I were to cause Doodle's death, I don't think Steve would forgive me. I was relieved that once he heard the whole story and determined that Doodle was in no real danger, Steve saw the comedy in the situation. And he really let me have it. "You know how Chekhov displays that gun innocently at the beginning of Uncle Vanya, and you just know that the gun is going to go off later on? Well," he said, "this is the same thing. Every goddamned time we go to the vegetable garden, you point out to me that the leaves on the rhubarb are poisonous. Every time. As if you think I'd eat them! You were basically setting it up that something had to happen with those leaves, and that something finally happened. Thank God, just like in Uncle Vanya, nobody really got hurt." Not that Steve hasn't asked for daily reports on Doodle's condition ever since. But as I've told him, Doodle four days later continues to be perfectly fine. He is now forever banished from the vegetable garden, however. One shot of Chekhov's gun is enough. Doodle Nuzzles Steve, selfie by Steve Gutierrez WHAT'S AVAILABLE THIS WEEK Horseradish root: $2/lb. Sorrel: $3/bag Rhubarb: $5/lb EGGS ARE BACK! Nature destroys but it also regenerates. Egg production is back in full swing. $6/dozen Lambs went to market. If you ordered, stay tuned for pickup. + Coming soon: Mint FARM PICKUPS: Email us your order at farm@turkanafarms.com, and let us know when you'd like to pick up your order. It will be put out for you on the side screened porch of the farmhouse (110 Lasher Ave., Germantown) in a bag. You can leave cash or a check in the now famous pineapple on the porch table. Because I'm now here full time, we're abandoning regular pick-up times. Let us know when you want your order any day between 10 and 5, and unless there are unusual circumstances we'll be able to ready it to your convenience. If you have questions, don't hesitate to call or text at 917-544-6464