Author

Cheyla

Christmas of 2000 was very fond as I recall it now so many years later. I’ll never forget, my brother and his family were home for the holiday and were all bunkered down in the living room at my momma’s. My sweet nephews were all snuggled up in their beds and pillow forts anxiously awaiting the moment to bestow they’re eyes upon what jolly ole saint Nicholas had brought them. Ross being the oldest at 8 could barely stand waiting, but Corbin knew one thing about Papa Geek, his grandfather, my step-father, and that was 1) he had quite the sense of humor and 2) we had best all stay in our beds until we were told to come out. The coffee pot was brewing and the scent filled the air with that Christmas morning smell that only that one day a year brings. I don’t know how, but for me that day smells just a tiny bit sweeter, and personally my heart feels so much lighter than all year. It’s a joy unspeakable that bubbles out of me every Christmas morning with the smile of what’s to come, and renewed hope that my Savior has been born. I cherish Christmas morning, I really do.


Tie Dye Onesies and Reindeer Antlers

I hear them down the hall, my mom and daddy-o, with their giggling and deep belly laughing. Which turned into my mom snorting when she laughed so hard and couldn’t contain herself as only she does, and did so often when that man was still with us this side of heaven. Then I see them as they begin down the hallway towards our living room. I can’t believe this. How? How did she convince him to do this or to wear THAT? And just like that they were standing in front of us all in their one piece tie dye onesies and reindeer antlers. The room was silent and then my brother, Chad, laughed so hard and so loud the room exploded. Two couple ole geezers dressed like Jerry Garcia at Woodstock if Woodstock would have been held at Christmas in 1969. I simply could NOT contain myself and laughter poured through our home.


Never Too Old to Play Dress Up

When I think about Christmas’ past, I often think of this moment, then I sit a moment to relive it as a young girl and to remind myself one is never too old to play dress up and make the children laugh. Let us remember we are never too old to find the joy in us at Christmas, and let it spill to overflowing love as we spend time with our families and friends.

Cherish your loved ones while they’re here, because one Christmas you will think fondly of them and smile, and perhaps a good laugh will follow.

May you know you’re loved at Christmas, and every day, by the One who came to be your Redeemer, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Merry Christmas,

Cheyla Breedlove Wheat Brothers Farms

December 5, 2017 1 comment
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I’d love to get real here for a moment if I may? Truth is it take real grit and a lot of gumption to be an early riser. It takes discipline to run a little farm, it takes dedication and loyalty and a lot of affection for animals and their well-being, but can I just say sometimes staying in bed with a warm cup of Dean & Deluca with the freshly printed NYT crisp in-between my fingers sounds more like a daydream in NYC as I realize that as the Rooster crows my day needs to get uh-goin’.

I feed 15 mouths before even the sun rises at times and then it’s off to tidy the ‘lil farm in the city and get that adorable blonde hair, blue-eyed angel boy of mine ready for class. I don’t mind because it’s hard word, honest work, work I believe many don’t choose anymore because it’s not instant or self-gratifying. I don’t receive many, if any, attaboys for the dirt under my fingers or the poop on my wellies that for the umpteenth time today need washin’.

Deep down I have always been a country girl. I don’t like trends and what connects me most is legacy and down home good cooking. I tried to be a city girl, I did, and for one hot minute I succeeded better than most, but in the end…I didn’t fit in. My dear friend, Melissa, would laugh as I left a very promising career in the (color bronzing world, aka salon tan) *insert eye roll at the tender age of 19 to go fishin’ at my favorite spot almost every day after I’d clock off in the beautiful area of Lake Roesiger Washington*.

“Chey, you’re going again?” Yes, I can’t miss my chance at the big one” This coming from a gal who to this day has a bass lure as keychain. City living was NOT the life for me, even if The beverly Hillbillies said it was for them, because here’s where the rubber meets the road, folks. You can take the girl outta the country, but you can’t take the country outta the girl.


Life is Good if You Simplify It

I love the smell of being in the mountains and the first tug on a pole as I’m fly fishing which I don’t do do as often as I would like. And the truth is, I’m a mediocre fisherman, but I nonetheless connect to God’s finest handiwork. And now as this journey begins this third and final week of owning my own little roadside — do my great granny proud — farm stand, I can tell you this, life is good if you simplify it.

Strip it to its roots. Look for that thing this week that one thing that makes you connect with those you love and what lights you up. I did just that moving home to Oregon “when was I most happiest” on that old farm in Central Point, Oregon, and I’ve poured all my love into giving back to a little valley that I love and that old house that built me where my favorite dog ran and where I learned to drive on an old dump truck and John Deere tractor by mowing those acres for pennies.

So if this week you find yourself out and about, pop in…I’ll be round these parts listening to old records and thinking of recipes as we head into the holidays. Christmas, folks, it’s coming and I for one cannot wait!

We hope you’ve enjoyed my soft launch/ grand opening. It’s been a learning curve of a three weeks, but don’t you worry, I’ll be open again during December for poinsettias, wreaths, and vintage goodies as well as some down home ciders, egg nogs, and cinnamon pine cones. My prayer is that this finds you well today, my friends, as we enjoy the last moments of our Autumn days and winter nestles in to our hearts.

Blessings Abundant,
Cheyla Breedlove Wheat Brothers Farms

October 25, 2017 0 comment
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Home is my absolute favorite place to be, and when I moved home to Oregon from the Seattle area, I knew I wanted a home to put roots down deep in something — to be able to work the land even in its smallest measurement. So I found this worn-down 1910 farmhouse smack dab in the the heart of our little community hub, and knew that all my experiences from being raised on a farm in Central Point, Oregon, that I could most certainly tackle this feat and turn it into a home.

So with that vigor that’s what I’ve done. The vision for my home was very real and personal upon me entering its humble doors. The almost 20′ laurel hedges surrounding the Wheat Brothers Farms creates a true “Orchard House” persona of years gone by (Orchard house is the home in little women). I truly believed and pictured myself putting up fences, painting, and shopping for local junk most would turn a nose up to, but I knew one thing my momma said to me about small living is to go up. Small spaces and creative decorating are a bit of jack that comes along with this ‘ole gal and I quite enjoy that about myself.

So as years pressed on and the vision became much like putting on bifocals, I decided to push forth into my next journey — the farm stand. I researched my home at our local historical society and found the original home owned by the Earhart family, who were in fact related to Amelia from PA, and had moved west with the gold rush in Jacksonville, Oregon. Along with the founder of the world famous Harry and David pear orchards, they settled in and began to grow several wheat varieties. One hundred and fifty-three acres as far as the eyes could see. The friends and family of the Earharts would soon establish a siphon of water out of bear creek to irrigate their crops, an excerpt from Portland tabloids is where the originals of our name is founded.

I wanted to to give back the home I had already duplicated “bearing very evidence of thrift”, a homage of loyalty to one families’ legacy. Their daughter, June, is quite recognized for her WW1 nursing efforts and what is the now the Medford Co-Op, was June’s original home across the street from the dirt Riverside Street at the turn of the century. The Earharts sons lived and tended the home I now reside in and the 153 acres of fine wheat.

On Tuesday we opened with great anticipation of goodness and gathering. The day prior, the wind was quite fierce and unpredictable as I began to set up, but opening day it was crisp and warm as autumn days warm your cheeks and as well-wishers and kind patrons came pouring in. Day two brought a refreshing sprinkle of rain to my ‘lil farm in the city. To my delight, another women passing by, stopped, and brought her own breath of fresh air — a local women who left me feeling grateful for her kind words. As she was departing with her goods, she stopped and congratulated me and told such a kind compliment — she told me how brave and ambitious I was. I was so encouraged by her words and thoughtfulness.

My great grandmother was a dear women with a gentleness about her that I shall never forget. She always wore an apron and a sweet smile with a few little chickens at her feet. For those who have stood outside my picket fences the past few years on a daily basis and shared stories with me about their granny’s farm or their own experiences in childhood of farm life, I commit this to you and your families’ heritages. Because farm life is simple life, but such a good life.


Acknowledgements

To My Great Granny

It’s because of you and the small, little memories of being such a small girl on your farm that I wear my apron each day.

To My Momma

Whose gift of hospitality never left those out in the cold, but always had a warm supper ready to serve without judgment, followed by a yummy desert. In my lifetime I’ve had the privilege of meeting diverse folks from all walks of life due to your very obedient, God-given heart of hospitality and warmth. You’re a good women.

October 17, 2017 1 comment
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Welcome to Wheat Brothers Farms, a local, family-owned farm in the heart of Medford, Oregon. Discover the history of the Earhart brothers and their impact on the Rogue Valley; buy local produce and home-made goods; and connect with loving community-minded people.

Stop by our cart in Medford to explore our products.

October 9, 2017 0 comment
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