This summer we threw Wild Roots Weekend — a whole weekend of inviting people onto the farm with one simple pitch: slow down, explore the place, enjoy some time together. We printed an agenda and everything. It had an ice cream truck on it. People came.
Saturday, noon: let’s get this party started.
The agenda’s opening line was, verbatim, “Let’s get this party started!” — and to everyone’s credit, they did. Camps went up, lunch went out, and the farm filled with people in a way it never has before. By early afternoon the Swanky Scoop ice cream truck had rolled in, the indoor barn had become a build-your-own trucker hat operation, and people were blending their own herbal tea from herbs grown right here on the farm. We’d like to pretend this was all effortlessly organized. There was a laminated schedule. We were not effortless.
All day, everywhere.
In between the scheduled things, the farm did the entertaining on its own: the petting zoo (our regular cast, thrilled as ever to be admired), horseshoes and cornhole and pickleball and frisbee golf, blackberry picking behind the greenhouse — and, per the agenda’s official instructions, “wherever you see them” — and long walks down to the river. Watching people discover corners of this place we walk past every day was one of the quiet joys of the weekend.
The scarecrow building competition.
Let’s talk about the main event. The scarecrow competition was scheduled for 2:30 and started at 3:30, which is what we call farm time, and we make no apologies. What happened next can only be described as art. Personalities emerged. Wardrobe decisions were debated. Structural engineering opinions were held, loudly. The competition was fierce enough that we awarded actual prizes — first, second, and third — and the judging was taken exactly as seriously as you’d hope. The results now standing guard around this farm have more personality than some people we know. This was, hands down, our favorite part of the weekend.
The evening: music, dinner, fire, movie.
At four, cocktail hour opened at the outdoor barn with live music from Frank Giovetti, which made the whole farm feel like somewhere you’d pay to be. Appetizers at five, dinner at six — farm to table, made with love, as the agenda promised. Then s’mores around the fire at 7:30, and at eight, a movie on the lawn with everyone bundled up in blankets under the dark. There is something about watching a movie outside, on your own farm, surrounded by people you love, that we are not going to be able to put into words. So we’ll just say: eight o’clock, movie time, bring a blanket. Perfect.
Slow down, explore the farm, enjoy time together.— the whole plan, right there on the agenda
The bonus round: real camping.
Here’s the part we didn’t really think would happen — a whole bunch of people camped. Tents went up and just… stayed. And the part that got us right in the heart: for several families, this was their very first time camping. First tent, first campfire, first morning waking up outside — and it happened here. Getting to be the place where that happens is exactly why we bought this farm. One camper skipped the tent question entirely and slept in her car, which we have ruled, officially, still counts.
The farm at night with tents scattered across the grass was maybe our favorite view of the whole year. And it meant Sunday morning actually happened: cowboy coffee at 7 a.m. — rise and shine — followed by a pancake breakfast at eight. The turnout for coffee and pancakes was, frankly, outstanding. It turns out if you make coffee over a fire and put a griddle near it, people you thought were still asleep will materialize.
Relax. Explore. Laugh. Make memories.
That was the fine print at the bottom of the agenda, and honestly, that was the weekend. Thank you to everyone who came, built a scarecrow, pitched a tent — or reclined a driver’s seat — sang along, and stayed for pancakes. This farm makes the most sense to us when it’s full of people.
✎ Safe travels — and see you next time. The scarecrows are keeping watch. — Snoopy and Fam