A freeze finally came on December 1st. We knew it was coming eventually but this has been a long, warm Fall here (Yes, Fort Worth actually had a Fall longer than a weekend!). The dip below 32 degrees ended a great season for our tomatoes and peppers. Opal’s Farm produced over half a ton of tomatoes this year and over 225 pounds of peppers this year. The bad news is that they won’t return until Spring. The good news is that we have plenty left for market this week!
We won’t be at our usual place at Cowtown Farmers Market this week. Instead, we’ll be at 1050 Evans Ave, Fort Worth, (76104 if you’re using GPS!) from 11:00 AM to 4:00 PM for the Evans Avenue Plaza Marketplace held by the Fort Worth Association of Federated Women’s Clubs. Please come by and check us out. Come and support local small business!
Later that evening we’ll be outside the Tributary Café (2813 Race Street) for the Race Street Holiday Open Street. We’ll also be there the following Saturday evening as well. We love our friends at the Tributary Café (Chef Mike – your gumbo and fried green tomatoes are awesome!) and can’t wait to see you all there.
Today is a very important day — the first ever International Day of Awareness of Food Loss and Waste! “Globally, around 14 percent of food produced is lost between harvest and retail” … “When food is lost or wasted, all the resources that were used to produce this food – including water, land, energy, labour and capital – go to waste.” In the United States, 30-40% of the food supply goes to waste, while millions of people remain food insecure. (from our friends at http://www.thefarmlinkproject.org)
We combat food waste every day at Opal’s Farm. Nothing leaves our farm unless it’s the man-made trash we collect from the Trinity River (and what the wind blows in!). Everything is either sold, donated, or composted. We collect food that would normally be thrown away from outside sources to build our compost, increase crop yields, and feed more community members.
What we do to combat waste may seem insignificant, but when it’s combined with what you do and what you do and what you do, it begins to affect overall food waste. On this first ever International Day of Awareness of Food Loss and Waste, we ask you to join the fight. We can all make a difference!
Stacey Harwood, one of our great volunteers has taken over as Volunteer Coordinator. Her passion and energy for Opal’s Farm is extraordinary. When Stacey first came out to the farm, she introduced herself and let me know right of the bat that she had no experience farming. It’s a couple of weeks later and she’s become quite the farmer! She’s organizing the volunteer day and getting busy. She wants to let everyone know that no experience is necessary – simply come, see, and enjoy!
Just a quick reminder that North Texas Giving Day Now is coming up Tuesday, May 5th. It’s a special North Texas Giving Day in conjunction with campaigns globally for Covid-19 relief. You can always donate via Facebook or our website, www.unityunlimited.org.
I try to write every day, whether I feel inspired or not. I’m told that such a practice will make me a better writer; that quality content will become more frequent. Lord knows I need that. Some nights though – after a long hard day at the farm – I come home, turn on the stereo (the computer actually), and sit down to do paperwork and answer emails. That’s not happening tonight though; the paperwork and emails I mean. Bonnie Raitt’s “I Can’t Make You Love Me”, The Beatles’ “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, and Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic” put an end to that. There’s nothing left to do but lean back, breath deeply, and enjoy the music.
I never fit in. It’s the oft told tale of being on the outside looking in. I’m not sure why really. I was blessed to have a great family. My sister and I are both adopted – wanted and loved dearly by the couple that became our parents. I didn’t come from a broken home. Mom and Dad celebrated fifty-three years of marriage before Dad passed. There’s no abuse that I know of; at least not physically or emotionally. Growing up in a fundamentalist Christian home I went to church three times a week, learned about a rather arbitrary God, and tried to live up to impossible standards of piety. That is spiritual abuse, but that’s another story…
The one vivid and undisputable memory was the music. It was always present. Saturday evenings were devoted to Lawrence Welk (my Dad’s favorite) and country music shows like “Live from Panther Hall” and Porter Waggoner (featuring a young Dolly Parton; my Mom’s favorite). Perry Como, Mitch Miller’s Sing-along, and Andy Williams filled the rest of the week.
My earliest and fondest memories were of singing in the car while on the way to South Texas to visit my uncle’s ranch each summer. My Dad would prop me up on his lap and let me take the steering wheel of our ’64 Oldsmobile 88 as we rocketed down the highway (there were no such things as seat belts and the car seat consisted of his arm across my chest when we had to come to a sudden stop…). Man, that car would fly. We would be running at ninety miles an hour and Dad would be singing all the way.
Dad had varied tastes. He’d belt out 1940s Big Band hits on minute, Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys, or bluegrass hymns the next. Many years later he told me that my Uncle Bynam, who was killed in World War Two, was the singer in his family. After hearing Dad, I respectfully disagree…
Melodies filled the car, the miles faded into the rearview mirror, and all was perfect in my little world. Dad’s lap, my driving (okay, steering – I couldn’t reach the pedals), and the songs made that Oldsmobile a piece of heaven on Earth. I can still hear him sing “I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck…” or “Mares eat oats and does eat oats…” some five decades later.
I outgrew Dad’s lap and at sixteen, found my own seat behind the wheel of a ’68 Chevy Impala Sport Coupe. Dad’s singing was replaced by an eight-track tape deck blasting everything from The Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Steely Dan to Jackson Browne, Neil Young, and Cat Stevens. My tastes were as varied as Dad’s. My part-time job was next door to Independent Records (the Top 100 albums were on sale for 3.99!). When I got paid on Saturday mornings, I made haste to cash my check so I could buy new albums. My purchases were always dependent on whatever adolescent challenges I was facing that week. Some of you know what I mean…
The eight-track gave way to cassette tapes, CDs, and later to MP3s and streaming services. The ‘67 Chevy has been replaced by my old farm truck. I drive the speed limit most of the time. My feet have reached the pedals for fifty years or so. Every now and then you just have to crank it up to ninety, crank up, the stereo, and keep an eye out for State Troopers, even when you’re sitting at your desk…
The clouds grew dark and heavy this morning. Maybe the promised rain was coming after all. The weather folks said it would be here Thursday, moved it to Friday, and then assured us it was coming Saturday or maybe Sunday mid-morning – but hey, this is Texas. I’d about given up hope when I heard the distant roll of thunder. Maybe?
The short version is I didn’t get but a two-minute light sprinkle on the westside, but the farm was soaked by a fifteen-minute downpour. I won’t have another day of hand-watering ahead of me. Let me explain…
The drainplug on our pump shot out of my hand on Friday and rolled into the river rendering the pump useless until I can get the part Monday. Normally this wouldn’t be a problem, but we just planted three hundred new additional tomato and pepper plants; all of which need to be watered in. Saturday afternoon found me hauling water from the Trinity River up the levee (two five-gallon buckets at a time) and watering the plants one at a time. I’ll do what needs to be done but I’m especially grateful for the shower today…
Opal’s Farm was at the Cowtown Farmers Market for the first time this year. The forecasted rain stayed away and the sun made our first Saturday back even more spectacular. We had sugar snap carrots, and radishes available and were sold out by 1030 AM. We saw several old friends and met many more new ones. We’re always grateful for our regular customers. We missed you guys over the last three months. We’re also grateful to all the new folks we met Saturday and hope to see each of one of you every week. Better yet, come by the farm and give us a hand or take a tour.
The potatoes and onions love the rain
I need to give as shout out to our volunteers this week. We couldn’t have gone to market without your help. Our volunteers are amazing! The number of volunteer hours has skyrocketed in the last three weeks. I hope you can come out and join us!
Tomatoes, Jalapenos, and Anaheim Chili Peppers are in. We were able to get Spaghetti Squash and Cucumbers in as well. Everything else is going great guns and it looks to be an excellent Spring for Opal’s Farm.
Just a word to our friends and customers at Cowtown Farmers Market:
We want you to know how much you are appreciated. So many of you have wanted to support Opal’s vision. Every purchase you make and the donations you give bring fresh produce to the people who need it the most – neighborhoods that have been forgotten by the big grocery store chains, neighborhoods that suffer disproportionate health problems because their only food choices are highly processed canned and junk food full of empty calories. Your dollars not only provide you with the best in locally grown, nutritious fruits and vegetables, but your neighbors as well.
Thank you for being a part of Opal’s Farm! We love you all and hope to see you next week!
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