Market gardening this time of year in Texas is busy, beautiful, and bountiful. The rhythm switches from weekly harvests to daily harvests. The farm team works every morning to stay on top of the quickly ripening squash, cucumbers, and tomatoes. 

617 pounds. That’s how much patty pan squash we have harvested since May 11. Cucumbers? 242 pounds since May 18. Cherry tomatoes? Close to 100 pounds since May 19. We’re still early in the tomato crop, but any day now we’ll be weighing hundreds of pounds of heirlooms as well. Our walk-in cooler is brimming with crates and bags full of veggies. 

This is our best year for squash by far. When we get bumper crops like this, I always try to reflect on what could contribute to the success. This year I’ll point to the rain—the skies were good to the farm in the month of May. However, after six years of farming full-time, I’m convinced there are “off” years and “on” years for each crop that can’t be explained confidently. Perhaps it’s the patterns of the bees, average nighttime lows, less wind or more wind, or something beyond our comprehension … 

I’m so excited to send crates of veggies on the truck to Tiny Boxwoods to grace the tables at the restaurants and private parties. Tiny’s is baking our squash into a chocolate zucchini bread that is one of the tastiest treats I’ve ever had. We’re grateful for the bakeries and restaurants in the Tiny Boxwoods family for making delicious food out of our fresh vegetables. 

In my eyes, this is what market gardening is all about—taking advantage of the harvest when it arrives and being creative with the bounty. We’re working on developing preserved and value-added products. We have exciting new jarred items being cooked up at the farm as I write this. Think beautiful, delicious jars of pickles and sauces to fill your pantry alongside our broth, tallow, and honey. A way for us to extend the gift of the harvest long past the peak summer heat.

 If you haven’t visited our markets yet, stop by on Saturday mornings from 8 am to noon to enjoy the summer vegetables! It’s our way to provide a source of local, regenerative, and intentionally raised food to the people in our neighborhoods. Heirloom tomatoes, patty pan squash, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, basil, and more will be at their peak, fresh from the farm.

 We can’t wait to see you there! For now, I’m off to pick more cherry tomatoes. 

The first farm I worked on full-time was in Edna, Texas, about two hours south of Houston. The area was rural, and much of it agricultural. One of the neighbors down the country road had a big sign on their mailbox that said, “Pray For Rain.” That was the sign most of the year, but every now and then, when things were nice and wet and we were getting plenty of showers, it changed to, “Thank God For The Rain.”

For some reason, that sign has stuck in my memory as I’ve continued my farming journey. As each season passed, I could feel more and more the importance of rain for our soils, our farmers, and our communities. Sure, you can irrigate a pasture with big equipment, or irrigate a garden with drip tape or sprinklers, but nothing quite compares to a nice heavy rain or a steady string of showers.

Just weeks ago, our pastures were still brown. Despite our efforts to irrigate with a pasture water reel, it still was not enough. We needed the rain, and I’m grateful to say, as I write this, that the farm has been getting lots of it. Those spring showers are so vital to the health of our production, and as a bonus, my dog Basil enjoys romping in the quenched fields.

So this May, although there is plenty else happening to update you all on, I want to pause for a moment and be thankful for this rain. And let’s hope it keeps coming.

There’s not much more on my mind these days beyond tomatoes.

Just a couple of days ago, we finished planting over 800 tomato plants between two market gardens. Eight hundred plants. That’s 500 more than we typically put into production, making it our biggest year for tomatoes by far. What will we do with all those tomatoes? Get them into your kitchens, onto restaurant tables, and preserved in jars for enjoyment well past the harvest.

When you spend days on end planting one crop, your mind enters a certain state—the motions of pulling down twine, digging holes, clipping tomatoes, over and over again, become a sort of meditation. Although the hours are long, the body is strained, and the lists never seem to end, stress fades away with this kind of work. It reminds me of a quote from Arthur Brooks: “You know, my great grandfather probably never went home to his wife and said, ‘Honey, I had a panic attack behind the mule today.’” There’s something about the repetitive motions, constant movement, and time in the sun that feels aligned with how we’re meant to work. I’m grateful to have a job that lends itself to moments like this. The work is already paying off long before the actual harvest begins.

Also going into the garden this week are cucumbers, squash, basil, peppers, and one final round of lettuce. And the winter veg still hasn’t slowed down; carrots, beets, chard, and lettuce will continue to grace the Saturday market tables while we patiently wait for those first tomatoes to come off the vines.

I hope you’re as excited as we are.

We can finally see the first signs of spring all around the farm …

2026 is off to a cold start!