Waiting for Rain
July 1, 2008
The month of June was unbelievably hot and filled with drama and excitement here on the farm. As we move into July, we are all glancing to the south and east with hope as the clouds start to build promising relief. I spent all winter complaining about being cold and pining for summer and now, here I am, complaining about the heat. Not good.
Our Garlic and Onion Festival on the 20th and 21st was a hit! The turnout was impressive and took us a little off guard. The media gave us a lot of attention the week prior to the event and apparently, folks were looking for something to do. We are no strangers to large numbers of people here. We have hosted a few weddings with 300 guests in attendance and our busiest day of our Fall Festival in October has seen 500+ cars in the pasture/parking lot. We did not expect such a response to garlic and onions in the heat of June but the cars kept coming. We were especially thrilled to see so many folks from Tubac, Amado and Arivaca here to enjoy the evenings! Our staff, which had already worked a full day of harvesting and cultivating in the merciless heat kicked it into high gear and clocked in some overtime to help out. After the sun went down, the temperature dropped - a little. Folks stuck around for live music and many enjoyed the summer solstice moon Friday night from the back of the hay wagon. I was grinning from ear to ear that evening as I was apologizing for running out of food and the headache that had been threatening all day began to throb. It is always a gamble when we put on a new event. We had invited restaurants to participate but had to tell them that it was a gamble for them, too. “There might be 200 people,” Stewart explained,” or there might be 20.” Not many were willing to commit based on that information. The two that did were very pleased. Primo Restaurant provided delicious samples of grass fed beef with onions and a garlic aioli sauce and Adrian’s from Nogales cooked up a delicious traditional carne asada. Next year we will have a lot more confidence and this event promises to only get better. My headache continued through the night and I felt nauseous the next day. Apparently there was a secret staff meeting when I wasn’t around because no one would do anything for me or answer my questions on Saturday unless I earned it by drinking at least a ½ a bottle of water first. The event was a success, but the heat during the day leading up to the festivities was brutal brought with it drama and desperation.
A few years ago I was out riding horses with my sister-in-law, Alex. It was the first real hot day in June and we headed out at about 2:00 in the afternoon with no water (..and I’m a college graduate…?) We headed for the foothills and were having a great time until we got to the railroad tracks. All of a sudden, my body went limp. I couldn’t hold myself up and I slid right off the horse. I had to close my eyes because my pupils had completely dilated and were not filtering out the sun – I was blinded by bright, white light. Alex directed me to a bush where there was a little shade, tied my horse to it and galloped back to the farm for help. I was dizzy and confused yet vaguely aware that if a train were to come by before she got back my horse would completely loose it. Fortunately, that didn’t happen and the railroad track access road provided an easy rescue by car.
As the festivities were getting underway last Friday a young teenage boy appeared at the barbed wire fence behind the stage we had set up. He spoke perfect English and was asking for our help. He was an immigrant and had left his grandmother in the shade near the railroad tracks. He pointed towards the foothills in the distance where his grandmother laid waiting - in the general area where I had awaited my rescue. I imagined her there under a pathetic bush barely shading her from the sun. He said that he thought she was dying. The boy was hot, tired and scared. Music was playing, people were eating and laughing and dancing as he anxiously waited for help. 911 connected me with border patrol. When the officer arrived, I saw the boy run and for a moment thought that he was running away. But the boy ran to him. To save his grandmother, the boy had to weigh the consequences. Her condition had to get to the point that he knew she was in trouble. Then he had to leave her and hope that he would find someone who would help. Ultimately, of course, his rescuers would send him back to the starting point of his journey. Later we saw a rescue helicopter in the hills. I don’t know if the grandmother survived. The heat is deadly and decisions made can be the choice of life or death.
A week prior, my beloved horse, Cody was stolen out of one of the pastures. Under the watchful eyes of the border patrol checkpoint, which is positioned above the pastures of our property, the two men made a choice to expose themselves when they walked into the fields and caught the horse. With all of the people working here and the border patrol looking down on us from the checkpoint, it is surprising that no one noticed two guys with machine guns riding double on Cody with a piece of wire around his nose. The horse is in his twenties and was not up for a fast ride with 2 people on his back, but what followed was a happy ending made possible by a rural version of neighborhood watch. First, at the Montosa Road crossing, Laurinda Oswald from the Reventon Ranch saw the travelers and called David Parker, her ranch manager, to report a stolen horse. They were intercepted by the border patrol at Elephant Head Road, 7 miles form here and one gun-toting thief was caught. Now, standing there wondering what to do with the sweaty, exhausted animal, Charlie Kestler, the man I bought the horse from 10 years ago, drove by. After a follow-up phone call, Dave Parker was there with his horse trailer and Cody was returned to us before sundown!! He was a little beat up, dehydrated and tired, but he was okay.
Last night we watched the burning Tumacacori Mountains from our rooftop. We saw huge chunks of fire falling and twisting and swirling in the distance. A strong wind encouraged the flames. It was beautiful and menacing at once. It seems that over the past few years, the blazing frying pan that is our desert in June erupts in flames. Hotshots brave unimaginable temperatures to fight off the blaze, looking, I am sure, to the sky for the coming of the monsoons.
As I am writing this, it is the end of June. The heat is stagnant in the farm office and I look out the window to where everyone else is seeding pumpkins in the blazing sun. I notice a haze in the sky and I think, “rain?” but then I smell smoke from the mountains south. I took a break from writing to take vegetable scraps to the sheep and as I was walking to their corral I heard a clap of thunder. It startled the lambs that were hearing the sound for the first time and I felt a drop of rain. Now I have returned to my computer and there is actually a cool breeze coming through. It is raining. I can already smell the distinct odor of smoke from a fire that has been dowsed with water. I am going to go out and stand in the rain. Relief is here!
Hopefully I won’t soon be complaining about hail, floods, mold, mosquitoes … who am I trying to fool?
Despite our huge crowds for our festival, we have plenty of onions and garlic left for sale at the farm.
Roasted Garlic
Peel off loose papery skins on garlic and slice off the bottom section to expose the cloves, keeping head intact. Drizzle with olive oil and bake, sliced side down on a baking sheet. Cover the dish with foil and bake at 350°F (175°C) for one hour. Uncover the dish and bake at the same temperature for another 15 minutes.
Great on French bread with brie!
Agua Linda Farm is a 63 acre family run farm in Amado Arizona. Go to www.AguaLindaFarm.net for more information or contact Stewart and Laurel Loew at 398-3218 or email stewart@AguaLindaFarm.net. The farm is open to the public Saturdays 9 AM – 3PM and Sundays noon to 3 PM.
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