I know you’ve all been waiting on the edge of your seat for the next installment of “A Day in the Life…”. Well, without further ado…
7:00 : Alarm goes off and I get up and make coffee and clean the kitchen. Blog a bit.
8:30 : Head over to the farm. Feed the laying hens and collect the eggs – chores I should have done last night but I ran out of daylight. The hens are hungry and half the pullets have escaped their enclosure and made their way across the field in desperation when they heard my 4-wheeler coming. Emmie and I catch/herd them all back toward their paddock. This takes a while. I feel bad for letting them get hungry. It affects their egg-laying when they don’t wake up to hot coffee and a warm breakfast.
10:00 : Wash the eggs I just collected and package them. I distribute some to our little self-service farm store because we always sell out quickly. The rest go in cases for Portland restaurants/bakeries. Talk to Fritz about my cold hands and lack of dry gloves situation. He suggests I dry my non-waterproof gloves next to the furnace in the wood shop every night. The man is a genius!
11:00 : Dig coolers out of the barn loft and start sorting frozen chicken out for Portland restaurant orders.
12:00 : Home for lunch. I eat more leftover chicken enchiladas than I probably should and then top it off with homemade guac and pita chips. I watch a bunch of SNL skits on YouTube and chat with Keith at work. It becomes clear to me that I am stalling because I don’t really want to get in the car and drive to Portland. I get so bored driving!
1:30 : Convince myself I better quit wasting time and so I start the trek to the Big City. I’m listening to East of Eden by John Steinbeck on audiobook. This is my favorite book of all time and I hang on every word of it. I think I could live on nothing but Steinbeck for the rest of my life, he’s that good. Hyperbole aside, I make it to Portland in good time, stopping only at Starbucks in Woodburn for a little afternoon perk-me-up. Coffee makes the world go ’round.
Deliveries go well. I’m selling Cornish Game Hens weekly to a sweet new restaurant in the Pearl District called The Parish. I haven’t eaten there yet, but I’m dying to. Oysters! Red Beans! Chicken-fried! They make absolutely everything from scratch – and it’s fun to hang out in their kitchen and watch the prep happen. One of the best parts of being a farmer is getting to walk through the back doors of some of the nicest restaurants in town and chat with the chefs while I unload my products. I always love to hear how they plan to serve my chicken or lamb. It feels good to know that such accomplished chefs are working their magic with the meat I’ve raised on my own little farm. It’s worth the drive to spend that time interacting with the chefs and kitchen staff.
4:00 : I’m back from Portland, unloading the coolers and unpacking the car in a hurry before the light fades. I feed another flake of hay to my fat little spoiled heifer who stands at the gate bawling. I call her The Pet because she has been following me around like a lost puppy every since the rest of her herd got sent to the butcher. It’s probably not such a good idea to name your cow that has a date with her Maker on the 21st, though.
I feed the layers again and collect the eggs. Emmie tears around the field like a lightening bolt, as per her usual routine.
6:00 : Off to the HOTV Social Run. Keith hosts this every week. We run 5-7 miles and then meet at a local brewpub for a pint or two afterward. It’s pretty freaking fabulous!
7:45 : Coffee date at the Beanery with a girlfriend. We stay there late and close the joint down. Party animals.
11:30 : Head hits the pillow and I’m out like a light.