In Which We Begin to Explore Farms. Biodynamically.

Today was the first true day of assistant-ship to my farming friend. Up we were, bright and early, to take leave of the city of Luxembourg and head out to its more suburban areas. About 25 minutes north (I THINK north. let's just say north) of the city we reached our first real farm - that of Anja, Tom, and their three ridiculously adorable children. Anja and Tom were in year 2 of a multi-year project of designing - absolutely from scratch - their own biodynamic farm. They had gathered most of the funding, the land, and the close-to-final architectural plans for the project. This NEW farm is to be located just down the street from the farm where they CURRENTLY reside, i.e. Tom's father's farm, which causes no end of heartache as although Tom's father is retired and has given over the operation to his son, he is still fully entrenched in the goings ons of daily activities and firmly refuses to reside anywhere but in the past. Needless to say, Tom and his family are eager to move into their own space. Farmer John, Anja and Tom spent around 5 hours exploring both their current situation and their future situation, and I, of course, spent most of MY time taking pictures of adorable animal noses.

I also managed to find a satanic baby goat...

...and a bunch of other goat butts to boot(ie).

As you can probably tell, my job is v. demanding.

After an entirely too satisfying lunch of these savory torts that I am determined to somehow mimic (one was made of beets and apples, the other of carrots and other shredded stuff), Anja led us to Schank-Haff, the next farm on our list (this one fully developed). At this particular biodynamic farm, they not only grew carrots and potatoes, but also had a dairy operation, a cheese-making facility, a farm store (open two days a week), and a small bakery. Their dairy cows, by the way, did nothing but stare.

We also spent a good amount of time ogling machinery. Okay, JOHN spent a good amount of time ogling machinery. That's, like, his thing. If that happens to be your thing as WELL, then remind me to send you photos. I can fuel your machinated dreams with potato pickers/sorters, carrot pickers/sorters, carrot washers, earth tillers, spikey things, rumbly things, etc.

I will show you ONE piece of machinery, however. This is called a football (in American that would be "soccer") car: I don't know how it works, exactly, but there's mesh for a windshield and something big attached to the front bumper. Hos's (the farmer and our host) son does this kind of thing as his hobby.

To prove to you I tell you only the truth, here is the starey dairy:

Also, there's a good reason for all that potato machinery mentioned above - freakin' so many potatoes my eyes almost fell out (or maybe the POTATO'S eyes almost fell out! Ah hahahahhahaaa!). This was just a small part of the whole (we were in the dedicated potato cellar):

Remember that show Chip and Dale Rescue Rangers? And then there was the slightly overweight mouse pilot who couldn't resist cheese, and when he smelled it his eyes would bulge, his moustache would sproing into a lightning bold-esque shape, and he would defy gravity and lift off the ground? Well anyway, this is some cheese:Oh my gosh and then THEY fed us TOO! I was smart and remembered to take a picture of the spread. In case you're like me, that slab to the right of the bread is not cheese, it is butter. Luckily they told me before I ate an entire hunk. Life is just tastier on farms (not pictured - apple cake and homemade whipped cream, i.e. the love of my life and the bane of my existence; though, let it be said, I drank raw milk all day and have had ZERO ISSUES. Psychological? Maybe).

And now? Now, I sit in a pink hotel, in a room with a lovely bed calling my name. I can ignore it no longer.