Dozer, the bulldog

Dozer, the bulldog
Dozer: He was the best dog on the planet.

Bonding

Bonding
The author of Mark's Work with Ellie Mae

Guess who's coming for dinner

Guess who's coming for dinner
Blue heron, sitting on the dock of our pond

HappyDay Farms bees are happy bees.

HappyDay Farms bees are happy bees.
Air-borne bees

BFF's forever

BFF's forever
Margie and Ellie Mae

Tomatoes and peppers are us.

Tomatoes and peppers are us.
Spicy salsa with roasted peppers, here at HappyDay Farms

Much love, John-Bryan

Much love, John-Bryan
Eric at 26 on the left, and John-Bryan in January of 1973.

Halloween fun

Halloween fun
SmallBoy and Dancing Girl

Our house

Our house
The snow season approaches...

Mahlon Masling Blue

Mahlon Masling Blue
My friend and brother.

Mark's E-mail address

bellspringsmark@gmail.com

Monday, December 12, 2016

Crusade of the Heart

Crusade of the Heart

I have a theory; unlike the majority of my theories, this one is based in reality and involves family. Nothing tightens the bowstrings of one’s heart more, than rising to the occasion to help a family member, and then seeing tangible results.

A farm exists and thrives on hard, physical labor; either you provide said labor or you are not a farmer very long. HappyDay Farms is no different and has made forward progress since its inception, because our family has worked together to forge this success.

Most farmers spend more than twelve hours a day, endeavoring to keep within hollering distance of some semblance of order, and they are only dragged off-farm, kicking and clawing. Such can also be said of HappyDay Farms, except that the forces doing the dragging were inordinately efficient at their task.

When “BossLady” received word from back in Ohio, that her Mama was sick, she did what had to be done to get Mama back in the win column. We are talking about a full-bore, three-month crusade of the heart, right here.
Married less than a month, BossLady went back East and fought through a maze of hospital red tape and downright terrifying implications from critical, life-dependent decisions made during her three-month stint. We here in Cali could do nothing more to help, than to assure her that matters here at home were well under control.

The head sod buster himself, a dude who used to leave the farm as frequently as Hilary Clinton gets elected President of the US, found himself roaming around NorCal like the proverbial buffalo. Politicking is a business not for the faint of heart, and the head sod buster has miles and miles of heart.

Our farm was in no position to call in the cavalry, an entity that has always had the unmitigated gall to insist on receiving remuneration for its services, as narrow-minded as that sounds.

Lacking the pecuniary measures to defray the cost of said help, being broke, the farm gestured to the few hardy of us who were still around. Even though the single-digit gesture was a tad on the uncouth side, those of us still walking, responded.

BossLady’s absence and the reason for it, motivated those of us still on-farm to great heights. I started pitch-forking in the beginning of March and did not stop until the end of May, and I up-planted ornamentals-everywhere. Flowers and BossLady are synonymous.

My better half disappeared into the trenches, cooking for those of us still here, planting seeds, up-planting the resulting starts, harvesting-always harvesting, and hammering the Laytonville Farmers Market.

Small Boy suddenly found himself having to oversee matters at the Pepper Pot, the main farm and the West Forty to boot. The task is so daunting as to boggle the mind and yet it all got done. One step at a time with one or two of those steps going backward, but he got the job done.
So easy to say now and only accomplished because there was huge motivation.

What is the result of this effort? The result has been a closeness and a camaraderie that have created the foundation for unparalleled success in our field: HappyDay Farms placed eleventh in the Emerald Cup competition just completed in Rosa.


Proving yet once again, Love is the greatest power.

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