Summer, Town Crier, Weddings

Jesse Blesch has started in on the painting of a signboard in the tavern that we're wildly excited about. When you walk into the public house, this week, you can see it being hand-lettered and I imagine over the next few weeks, you'll start to see the Hawk itself appearing feather by feather, hue by hue. Nothing beats that hand-painted-right-over-the-planks look. I just stand there and watch it sometimes.

Summer Day Camp is getting some pretty heavy bookings, but we keep getting requests for a week long overnight camp from the Orange County and San Diego parents--so, farm staff, if you're reading this, let's get together and plot it out. (As in today.)

The Strawberries are a' popping--big time. I think we had a lot of people anxious for cherries last weekend, but it was kind of nice to see the patch getting picked by LOTS of families last Saturday, and even a few here and there on a Monday. U-Pick Strawberries are a bargain family outing, and the new high fashion is thriftiness--so get hip. Pick a few strawberries.

All the really cool kids and moms take their dad to the Night Before Father's Day at the Old Packing Shed. There's still time to be one of them. Games, Music, Tributes to Pop! We have towering crates of glass-bottled Dad's Root beer stacked up and ready for you to swill too.

August is not my favorite month around here, (largely because it doesn't seem to be your favorite month around here), so I've decided to give you a little break from what our fearless leader is calling a "Deep Recession." Free music. Michael Wassbottten of the Mill Creek Boys and Freeman House are putting together double-header Americana music on Saturday nights from 5 to 9 PM. Two great bands will be featured at each show. You can pick raspberries and strawberries, enjoy our farm grill barbecue, shop for gifts in the general store, and hear some great music. There's nothing quite like live music on a Summer Saturday night, and the music is free. The barbecue isn't free, because I am not the federal government and I don't have that fancy paper they use to print money, but we will give great value for very off-Broadway prices. Keep checking back.

Mallory and Eric's wedding was something like an hour or two in a pleasant sidewalk cafe located right smack dab in the middle of heaven. I can't do it justice. I really didn't get to enjoy my own wedding, because an arctic storm was blasting through the packing shed, but I had so much fun talking to and dancing with our guests and basking in the joy of it all, that, I confess, I wish there were a wedding everyday around here. (Heah....) Normally, I prefer conversation, but I danced and made toasts and threw rice and got completely OUT of my normally introspective, cranky self. Mallory and Eric did it the right way--and it was cause for a celebration! Praise God.

Summer

I haven't been writing quite as much, because we've been doing some last minute summer planning, and I'm always traumatized by bulk emails, which I had to compose and send out yesterday. I realize that as you all proceed through your day, with your various challenges and personal trials, that a Riley's Farm update may or may not be helpful in making you feel better about life.

Suppose, for example, you're a warehouse foreman and a 40 foot semi-trailer has just damaged your loading door--and you have 30 minutes to find someone responsible to wait for the repair crew, or sit alone in the warehouse all night, guarding expensive imported European cheese and sausage baskets. Someone is reading your email in your office and they yell:

"Heah, Chuck, the strawberries are ready for u-pick at Riley's Farm."

"That's great," you respond, agitated, "but I have a 10 foot hole in the warehouse wall, Duane--and WHAT ARE YOU DOING READING MY EMAIL?"

"I signed you up for the updates, man. The Riley's Farm updates....so you'll know when the strawberries are ready..and when the Father's Day hoe-down thingy is."

"Duane? Have you got that repair crew?"

"I don't know what your talkin' about. Crandall says you're the repair crew. Heah, Riley's Farm has a summer camp."

I suppose our updates could you hit you at a good time, but I'm always afraid our emails will arrive sometime between two big emails you have to send your accountant, pronto, with two really big fat PDF files you can't get to attach, and your wife will be looking over your shoulder, and she'll see the little "Riley's Farm: Father's Day, Strawberries, Summer Camp" and she'll say, "ohh..read that one," and you'll say, "Heather. We've got 10 minutes to get this down to Peter or we're going to have trouble with the franchise tax board. We can do the Riley's Farm huckleberry thing later."

The point I'm trying to make is that you should make some time to celebrate. It will help you forget about the hole in the warehouse wall--and it will address another nagging reality brought home to your correspondent by these pictures of his son, over the years.

Life goes by too quickly.