Sophie Howard: "Waking up to Paradise"

Tryon Farm inspires many fine things, including now a second blog called "Waking up to Paradise" by my niece, Sophie Howard.  Here is the link:  http://wakinguptoparadise.blogspot.com/2012/01/all-my-friends-back-in-maryland-ask-me.html.  While yours truly is the senior blogger by a few days, my new rival has chosen a wonderful title and currently resides at Tryon Farm, a massive advantage.  Blog on, Sophie--the farm is big enough for both of us.

The Bonfire

What I like best about Tryon Farm isn't the homes or the people--both of which are excellent and some of which I'm related to--but the land that encompasses its 177 acres. When I'm visiting from New York with my wife and son, I take every chance I get to head outside and do something, anything. I can always find a project to do. There's tractors to start and chicken eggs to collect and trails to run. Sometimes I just head into the woods to clear my mind and see how many animals I can spot before they spot me.

Last fall my family hosted the Crescent Moon Festival at Tryon, and there was lots to do in preparation. Lucky for me, the job I most wanted to do was the one nobody else wanted: Build the bonfire. I quickly gathered my team in the late morning, and we all piled into the orange Kubota tractor. With my 4 year old son Cliff on my lap, and his young cousins Sophie and Gabe beside us, we rode into the forest to gather enough dry wood to make a giant bonfire.  The crew worked efficiently and soon the old wagon we towed behind the tractor was full of excellent long poles and sticks of all sizes that would insure a bonfire to live up to its name. Lucy the Dog joined us at this juncture and barked approvingly at our efforts. Not for nothing the woods around my sister Polly's house were now just that much neater.

With our wagon full and midday approaching, I knew our best course of action was lunch. The Tryon Farm Army definitely marches on its stomach, and we could not have been happier to find upon arriving at 31 Tryon Farm Lane that our noses were greeted by the intoxicating scent of grilled cheese. Grilled ham and cheese with avocado to be exact.  Served with cream of potato soup. Have I mentioned that my wife is a genius?!  Just a dozen or so minutes later, I was lingering over my soup and enjoying every last sip of its magic potato-ness, when Cliff walked back into the dining room wearing his work gloves.

"C'mon Dad! Let's get after it!" he said.

Perhaps I've taught him too well.

(Will, 1/20/12, Noonans at the farm: 3, goats not counted)

Why Do We Come to Tryon Farm?

I was on the beach last August chatting with a friend.  She remarked that she was leaving town shortly for Switzerland to join her husband, a professional  musician who was playing at a jazz festival.  There would be parties, music, special events, some international flair--the sort of thing you might see  pictures of in the Times' travel section.  "Wow.  Sounds great,"  was my response.  "Actually," she said, "I'd rather be right here."  "Here" for my friend was a little strip of bay beach, smaller than a decent suburban lawn, stuck at the end of the road in a little Long Island town you have never heard of.

For my family--my wife and three daughters, my parents, my brother and sisters and their children--the "here",  the special place, the place that pulls us to it is Tryon Farm in Michigan City, Indiana where my parents have a house at 31 Tryon Farm Lane.  Why do we come?  We come for the beauty of the farm, and to live in nature in a way that you cannot in the city or suburbs.  We come for the fields, the dunes, the woods, the wetlands,  and for Lake Michigan a bike ride away.  We come for a striking modern house filled with light, covered by a green roof. We come for a community of interesting neighbors who live at the farm. And, of course, we come for family, because my parents envisioned this farm becoming a community twenty years ago,  and nothing ties you to a place like building it.

David  (1/16/12, Noonans at the farm: Sarah, Gabe and Sophie)