AgriCulture: Your Guest is as Good as Mine by Eric Rouleau

As I ponder on my good fortune in time of great hardship, having become a somewhat permanent guest at Turkana Farms, I sense how little my own will controls my reality. Yes, I am a lucky man. Far away from the feared city, cozily sheltered in the Hudson Valley, I share space and spend time with warm, caring and generous people. I feel that the animals have also welcomed me. They have gotten used to my presence and, with bleats, clucks or grunts, tolerated my clumsy handling of the chores, done to attend to their daily needs. I don’t understand them as well as they understand me, it seems, but it doesn’t matter; our interactions nonetheless give a heartfelt purpose to my life. And we, together, contribute to put in order the beauty of this planet. That is simple and that is love.

Last week, I was invited to share my New York “pandemic” experience with the readers of “La Presse”, a Montreal newspaper. I was one of the five Quebecers to do so, having had been a resident of New York since the early 90’s. Apparently, the story struck a chord with the readers, especially the part in which I described my exodus from New York City. They had heard about this phenomenon and the collateral effects that city people like me were creating in rural communities. I assume that, in assessing their own fears, they may have read my escape as selfish, petty or reckless. I hope they were also able to read my concerns, my “tiraillement” and my overall gratitude. The article reached many members of my extended family and friends across Canada, giving them good news on my health and security, relieved that I was with friends and away from the “hot spot” that became New York City. They couldn’t wish me a better place to be than the farm of my friend, Mark.

Only few of the folks in Germantown know that I am here. They have been angels without knowing. The town workers, the grocers at local stores, the farmers, all providing services relentlessly, diligently and without much hesitation. Our long walks beyond Lasher Avenue have offered us great solace but it is the waving from the very rare passing cars that energized us the most. Often anonymous, sometimes without a clear picture of the people, the gentle waving of hands through the car windows presents a community in solidarity; neighbors who look after one-another, in its simplest but most effective expression. With its people, the draw of this town is its bucolic setting: a precious nook of Columbia County with boundless farmlands and spectacular views. It is like looking at masterpieces from landscape painters and that helps me keep my cool and peace. It gives me also great existential comfort, realizing that I may just be one of the small points in one of those landscapes.

I cherish my time at Turkana Farms. I love the smells, the sounds and the rhythm. The days follow a unique cadence dictated by the animals; I go from stillness to action in a heartbeat. I have nominated myself as the “Poulailler” master, feeding the chickens and collecting the eggs. I wash the eggs like they were Fabergé and place them in containers as gems in Cartier “écrin”. My conversations with the chickens, I admit, have condescending undertones but they don’t seem to care; they just want to perform their sassy dance around me. Troy and Mark are the bosses when it comes to the lambs and I am the helper. I nonetheless relish giving them (the lambs of course) the special “collation” they are so craving. Their excitement over that feed gives me a strange sense of belonging; a shepherd in training
so-to-speak. And then, there are the pigs, masters on their own with their overbearing presence, making us servants, for the most part, and making me, particularly, careful to preserve table scraps as perfect triage translates to their most pleasant delight.

This is my reality for the time being. Living in a farm and contributing to its operations a little bit. Sharing sweet moments with Mark, Troy and Victoria. Experiencing my first Seder meal and preparing for a quiet Easter. Pot-lucking dinners. And getting acquainted with the dog Esperanza, whose generous affection brings the most effective cure to desolation.

WHAT’S NEW THIS WEEK:

We, like many of you, have nothing much new to report in this timeless world of social isolation. What’s new this week a guest bulletin, written by Eric Rouleau, who had planned to come to visit for the weekend of March 20, but accelerated his visit and has made it his place to shelter in place ever since, to the great delight of we denizens of Turkana Farms. May you be as lucky as we are in our isolationships.

We give thanks for those who are recovering from Covid, send best wishes and love to those suffering or who have lost loved ones.

WHAT’S AVAILABLE THIS WEEK
Tiny hot matchbox peppers, $5.00 a string, dried and quite decorative.
Fresh dug horseradish root, $3/lb.
Sorrel, small leaves, small bunches, $1/bunch

EGGS: $5/doz, $3/doz (fun size)

MEATS: We keep some on hand, but it helps to order ahead in case we need to retrieve from our stash in the big commercial freezer. See below.

ROASTING CHICKENS – Nice fat Freedom Rangers, frozen, largish (6 to 7 lbs,), $6/lb.

LAMB: small loin chops, $14/lb.

PORK: Loin pork chops, $12/lb (2 to a pack, btwn 1 and 1.5 lbs),
Spare ribs and country ribs $7/lb
fresh ham roasts (2 to 3 lbs), $12/lb
smoked bacon, $12/lb

FARM PICKUPS:

Email us your order at [email protected], 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. Regular pickup times are Saturday and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. and 4 p.m. to 5 p.m., other days by arrangement. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to call at 518-537-3815 or email.