It’s a chilly morning here in the Northeast, the fireplace is crackling and a pleasant woodsy aroma fills the old homestead. No sooner had I turned my calendar to September, that I was met with a chill that implied all that is coming our way. It’s palatable- the dogs are invigorated, there is an urgency in the bird’s calls, and the yellow jackets, who have short fuses in the best of times, have moved into full on end-of-season attack mode.
Our local town farmers market has grown so popular, that the parking lot is a free-for-all, and the long slow lines to pay for your vegetables can have the letters ‘A’ and ‘P’ bouncing through your head. This morning, choosing to avoid that back-to-the-earth stress, we decided to visit the last family farm left in our town, once an active farming community.
As you drive into Augustine’s Farm, you are met by their sign, almost hidden by sunflowers…a great omen…no marketing experts here. It is owned and farmed by Kathy and John Augustine who have worked their land for nearly sixty years. They’ve survived the vagaries of weather, hard farm work and a terrible 1996 tractor accident, that left John with a prosthetic leg. They farm ten acres, that fill the shelves of their charming market stand. Inside you’ll find excellent homegrown corn, melons and vegetables, as well as fresh eggs from their 150 chickens. They also produce their own honey. Unbelievably, Kathy finds time to make pies, too.