The first heavy (“killing”) frost, no matter when it arrives, is the harbinger of our annual semi-retirement. This used to mean switching gears from farmer to pickleball playing, gym going, yoga class attending, playing at city folk. More recently, however, we’ve discovered the power of credit card miles and have been exploring realms further south. And we’ve got these young whipper snappers here that want to keep growing in the winter! So the first heavy frost, which didn’t arrive until late last week, now means a sudden scrambling to get all the soil testing done, crop analysis and next year’s crop planning completed, seeds ordered, structures winterized, pack shed moved to heated space, and fields turned to cover crops, and make sure all our inside beds are filled for winter production. Gone is the downshifting, the sleeping in, the slow progression toward hibernation. Instead, this fall frenzy of activity. At least mother nature was sympathetic this season. She swooped in, froze everything, then left to give us a gorgeous week of t-shirts and azure skies—a little breathing room to work long days to get everything accomplished before the cold returns for real.
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