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soilsistersfarm

14th season growing cut flowers/medicinal herbs in Nevada City, CA. We acknowledge that we live, love and farm on the ancestral land of Nisenan Tribe.

Instagram post 17977068959253340

Instagram post 17977068959253340

I wrote this poem for my sister when she turned 17

I wrote this poem for my sister when she turned 17, exactly ten years ago. I was just 12 when she was born, with three older brothers, so at the time I felt like she was made specially for me. I'm still pretty sure she was. Flash forward and now my baby sister is a beautiful woman, married to the love of her life, and everything I wrote here remains true. I still hold her in my heart as all the ages she has been, which I feel like is what this poem captures so well.
Happy birthday @annieganz - I love you more.

for annie

who is this woman before me
curled up on the couch with a book,
reading glasses framing her flushed face?

she looks familiar, like the floating sounds of giggles
coming from the bathtub down the hall,
or the smell of garlic and floury steam rising from pasta,
olive oil on tiny hands,
the particular gesture
that accompanies pure contentment

---

apparently, i am the type to have heroes,
though seldom the famous,
or those that demonstrate
extravagant feats of fitness or fortitude

no, my heroes are luminescent,
they are the gleam revealed behind
eyes that choose to look out with courage and kindness
they are those ones that flair and fall
and then come back singing

they are inconspicuously setting the table,
folding their warm clothes on the bed,
brushing their teeth and washing their faces,
indistinguishable from the numerous all and everybody

but to me they are produced by the same force
that creates the gold that specks the river bottom
a potency forged by the time i have spent
admiring their growing bodies, the fine-tuning of their hearts

----

she has fallen asleep reading,
this sweet heroine, who even as she rests
is unfolding her life under the gaze of redwoods,
the beaming lights of the theater, the late afternoon sun
on her body as she runs and plays

an admiration tiptoes into the room, of the enduring nature
only found in sisterhood, and then i know (ah ha!) who this must be,
and thereby who i must be -
which is to say, i am the one
lucky enough to adore the other, to understand
that it takes the presence of our heroes
to wake us up to what we want to be.

maisie (may 12th, 2013)

last photo by @amandapoolphoto (thank you!)

black bear i was not expecting to run into you thi

black bear
i was not expecting
to run into you this morning
in the rain
on the bridge
over the creek
on this path
i walk so often.

i realize
you generally stay hidden
for good reason
on this land where there are more guns
than people -
i, have no excuse,
other than i sometimes forget
to walk out in the rain
alone,
and look up.

every moment
i could choose
to be touched by magic.
my daughter dances around my room
in silk scarves
while I write this.
comes over and
puts her head
on my shoulder
and i inhale her
butterscotch scent.
how can i long for more
than this?

but i do.
i want to see you again.
this evening i went back
to the bridge
over the creek
knowing you wouldn’t be there
but my heart beating hard
all the same.
the new leaves looked even greener
the sun cut through
the trees and i heard
two owls calling.

i am so full of longing
this season of spring
i want wild rivers
i want to hear the hawk and the canyon wren
i want a meadow of wild flowers
that reach to my shoulders
a high glacial basin
the reflection of peaks on a lake
and the cold naked thrill
of jumping in.

last night the full flower moon
was hidden by the clouds.
so this morning
when i saw you
emerging from the long winter,
the cold rush of the creek,
your wild forest spirit,
cinnamon wet fur and large paws,
and your eyes assessing me
in that brief moment -

after the shock, the disbelief,
i couldn’t stop laughing
as I walked home -

grateful for this wild earth,
this fragrant season,
this resilient home we share.

- maisie

Feels like May 1st around here (check out new poem

Feels like May 1st around here (check out new poem posted in our stories, eek). Apple trees are covered in blossoms, river is rushing with snow melt, clouds are breezing by. Gone are the days of Uno by the fire and craving hot chocolate. Here are the days of lizard-catching, zinnia planting, river hikes and bike rides.

Our website is now live with our annual dahlia tub

Our website is now live with our annual dahlia tuber sale - available this week and next week - for LOCAL pick up only (we will consider shipping for orders over 20 tubers )! Put in your order ASAP as many of the newer varieties will run out fast! We even have some cafe au lait tubers available <gasp> so check it out before they disappear (featured in this first photo, also in the 2023 Soil Sisters Farm Luscious Calendar). And yes, I used that as the first photo on purpose - insta loves to disappear posts from small-scale businesses trying to make a living by selling things they grow/make, thought this might draw some views ha ha.

Our prices are super reasonable, we are generous with the size of each tuber and # of eyes, and all our dahlias are grown, stored and divided by us here at Soil Sisters Farm. Plant these in the coming month and you'll have incredible blooms all summer and into the fall - just be sure to keep cutting the flowers if you want the abundance!

Orders (mix and match ok) for 10 tubers or more receive a 10% discount and orders for 25 tubers or more receive a 20% discount

Write us if you have any questions or requests for larger wholesale orders. If you are a fellow farm who's lost your stock, we're also open to getting you re-situated for a really low price or some fun trade.

And of course, our Summer CSA Flower Share is available on our site, might as well pick one of those up while you're ordering tubers ;)

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