Friday, December 18, 2009

Year's End, Blog's Beginning

I just found a very moldy pumpkin hidden in a corner of the MFF Value-Added facility. Worse than those jack-o-lanterns that cave in on themselves after a warm October afternoon! Ay. Between repeat endeavors with pumpkin-apple crisp (Pink Lady apples, no less) and a pumpkin bundt cake, I've personally enjoyed these little pie pumpkins all fall, thanks to Donna Jones. The pumpkins were one of about nine veggie crops Donna and her family grew to perfection this season...I'm already dreaming of what she'll put in the ground next year.

Donna checks on savoy and stonehead cabbage in June.


But I'm getting ahead of myself on this very first Madison Family Farms blog post. I'm long overdue in rolling this idea out, but here we are in the very quiet moment of the season when twiddling one's thumbs is an actual possibility, not just a pipe dream. So I took three hearty minutes and set up a home for Madison Farms' story. After all, I've told countless folks about our history and mission throughout my year as MFF Manager, but I want to share more with anyone listening. Most days I'm at a desk coordinating marketing, promotions, sales and delivery of goods out of Madison County and I get sort of like farmers who have been in the field alone all day. I need to ramble, rant and--of course--rave about what's happening, what MFF is a part of. So, we'll see what happens...what sort of stories we can conjure for those who are listening.

In the meantime, it's snowing. Actually snowing! I experienced a series of follies in getting my snow-unfriendly vehicle from Asheville to Marshall this morning and getting back should be even more adventurous. They're calling for 10-14", which makes this MFF Manager very happy. After all, I never saw more than an inch or two accumulate in Asheville throughout my first winter. But first, I should close up the books, throw away the moldy pumpkin, and bid farewell to the Value-Added Center for 2009 (you can find me reading Gone with the Wind in Cincinnati, Ohio until then).



"'Twas the night before Christmas, and at least until later
No cabbages were stirring, not even a tater..."