True Stories from the Farmily, and a Word About Pumpkins.

ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a boy called Brussels Sprout — Brussel for short. He was a farmer’s nephew, and had a shaky start in life: tubes in his ears, a patch on one eye, and allergies to every food in the fridge. He couldn’t put on pounds.

Brussel came to the farm one day and helped us with planting. Since then his star has been rising. Just had a seventh birthday and ate his whole birthday dinner — hot dogs (burnt on the grill, please), cream corn, mango slices, pasta, rolls, and one black olive for each finger. Seems like things are looking up.

So, in honor of everyone named Brussel, come cut your own sprouts.

There once was a girl named Apple. A young woman, really. She worked here on the farm, doing orchard jobs and this and that. Last we heard, she sped off to Texas with a gentleman of the anarchist persuasion. Motorcycles and banjos and happy trails. But we still have apples in the orchard — Mutsu, Cortland, Northern Spy, and Rome Beauty. Season is dwindling, this is your chance.

So, in honor of everyone named Apple, come pick apples.

Last year, little Henry Quinn was being a grumpkin. We tried everything til we found out he is really a pumpkin! This year, we added more ‘kins — not Henry Quinn, but Kollman Henry Cummins. He is waiting for you at the bottom of this message.

So, in honor of kids named Henry, come claim your pumpkin.

Everyone knows about the great George Squashington. (For a dollar and a quarter you can see him twice.) But without his powdered wig and wooden teeth, he looks a little less presidential. Here he spends his days among the younger generation, telling tales about crushing the Redcoats and chopping down cherry trees.

So, in honor of everyone named Squashington, come claim your squash.

A long time ago, in a land far, far away — but not far from the original Ithaca — there were invisible beings in the sky. Or atop Mount Olympus, depending on which movie you watch. Anyway, these self-styled deities claimed exclusive rights to the good stuff: ambrosia. Well, we get our information from Wikipedia (like most farmers), and we haven’t found any prohibition therein about selling cider to mere mortals. So we are bringing Orchard Ambrosia to normal people for a small fee.

In honor of those who tell the gods to stop being snooty, come claim your cider.


How about this apple crisp? One of three lovely photos sent in by a customer, Genna Knight, after an outing to the farm.

Apple sauce by Genna and family. There is still time to be “putting up” food for winter. It’s an old country phrase that means canning and jarring.

Her littlest apple picker in the Dwarf Orchard. People went nuts at the big party and picked the Dwarf Orchard clean. But there ARE apples in the Vintage Orchard — a handful of trees that will get picked out soon! Come now.


The day before the recent frost, we scrambled into the pepper field and picked everything we could find. A great haul that saved a lot of crop. Now we’re swimming in peppers. Fill a 10-pound bag with a mix of bell peppers, sweet Italian peppers, and poblanos — and pay only $10. This Saturday and Sunday!

A lot of you had never seen Brussels Sprouts on the stalk before. How about broccoli? We’ll be stocking the stand with broccoli til the modest supply is gone. It is most delicious and cruciferous!

Tundra, Queen of the Farm, had got a bit smelly. Her “rolling habit” — rolling in any carcass she comes across — has that effect. Well this week she went on a big trip to the groomer. Haircut, bubble bath, and pedicure. Now she is worthy of her name again: white as the driven snow, soft as the moss on the steppe. She smells just great, ambrosial even. Zorro got the treatment, too.


Some of you guys sent such useful feedback about the Pigs-n-Apples Party. Without a doubt, your thoughts will make next year even better. But for the rest of you, should we have a party next year? Answer that question and a few others on this PARTY FEEDBACK FORM. You can also use the form to volunteer next year!


“Pumpicking.” That’s the word. Get out here and try it. Or try “pumpkinicking.” Or “Pumpicnicking.” Doesn’t matter what you call it — do it soon. Only 12 days til Halloween, and there will be lots of pumpkin hunters this weekend. Weather says partly sunny, which means it will be partly “crowdy.” Snooze you lose!

Hope to see you at The ‘Creek.

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