Nothing but smiles...

Woke up today in the funk that has been following me around for about a week now...got into work, late as usual, and started picking baby lettuces for a beautiful, organic salad mix that my boss sells at the Saturday markets. Certain that I was not going to be a happy camper with temps expected to hit the mid 80s, I kept to myself and sampled some Purslane (an edible weed with salty, delicious leaves) to give me enough energy to get through the morning. As a writer, I love to observe and listen...so that is what I did most of the morning as my fellow gardeners tediously clipped the baby greens and discussed this whole battle of food. One conversation that took my attention was regarding how us food activists, who are trying to take down Big Agriculture, need to be more vigilant. One of my more opinionated co-workers expressed how the extremists are absolutely necessary in this battle to get the American diet back on track. I really liked this statement. If it isn't obvious -- I am extreme. It seemed to validate my over-the-top views and made me realize that I am not alone. Suddenly, this funk I couldn't shake started to subside and unexpectedly, I smiled. After being bent over, picking baby lettuce all morning I got a slight break when I took the gator to help some of my other co-workers bring back the carrots they had picked. While picking up heavy buckets filled with water and carrots and loading them onto the gator, one of my co-workers commented on how strong I have gotten during my time at the farm. I guess she noticed a physical transformation I have been unaware of. Since I have been given the reputation as being the "delicate runt" of the group by my boss, her compliment made me feel really good and again, I smiled.

Moving on to lunch...three of the farm interns are going back to school so we sent them off with a long lunch and a little awards ceremony to recognize their strong points. We ate delicious cupcakes and I talked to the men on the farm about helping them bale a field of hay that had been sitting out to dry. I was planning my escape out of the garden that I have come to slightly resent since I feel I am only learning half of the story when it comes to farming.

Lunch came to an end and I was sent to pick tomatillos, tomatoes and peppers. As you know from previous posts, I have come to love bumblebees during my time at the farm (in fact, I saved one from a watery grave earlier in the morning -- one of my co-workers looked at me like I was crazy). Since the tomatoes are in bloom, the bumblebees were all around me as I harvested these juicy sandwich toppings. I am beginning to associate these fuzzy, little creatures with dogs. Yes, the dogs of the insect kingdom. They are so lovable, sweet and really will not sting without a GOOD reason (much like a dog that looks for love and it's sweet disposition keeps it from biting, unless absolutely necessary). I also enjoy the rare graze of the bumblebees furry, little body on my back as they fly from one of the flowers surrounding me to another. Needless to say, between the bumblebees and the uplifting conversation I was having with one of my co-workers as we picked, I smiled the whole time.

Then, came the last leg of the day and suddenly, one of the men appeared on a tractor, pulling a huge mechanical device. He hopped out and offered to show my co-workers and I how this contraption worked. It was a hay baler. This thing basically looked like something out of Willy Wonka's factory with spinning spikes that are used to pull the dried grass in, then some other spikes drop down and push the hay to the side where a large press comes out of nowhere and pushes the hay into a neatly shaped rectangle. The final touch of string to keep the rectangular bale together comes in and then the bale is shot out of a shoot into a big cage that is connected to the back of the hay baling machine. Writing about this device makes it sound really complicated, because, well...it is. I will provide a picture soon so you can get a better idea.

With the permission of the farm manager, two of my co-workers and I set off to bale some hay. The first step is to mow the field, but leave the grass clippings behind so they can dry out. Then, you rake the dried grass clippings into piles called "wind rows" and leave them there to dry some more. Next comes the hay baler (that Willy Wonka machine).

We got to the field for the final two steps and each got a chance to drive the baler and the rake. I was first on the baler...since I know how to drive stick, I was overly confident jumping on the massive John Deere tractor that was pulling the baler. Even if you know the gears, moving the stick is no easy task. My driving instructor basically had to do that part for me (so much for the compliment of strength that came earlier in the day). The driving part was pretty easy and once I saw where I needed to be on the row so the baler could collect the dried grass, it was smooth sailing. Since my eyes were planted on the ground in front of me, I did miss a funny moment when a bale of hay shot out and hit a boy in the back of the head. You see, these bales of hay are spit out the back of the baler into a cage, there, people riding in the cage collect the bales and stack them. A boy helping had his back turned (piling up the hay) when a bale shot out in his direction -- guess he should have been paying attention. The only part of this image (that I am sure belongs on America's Funniest Videos) that I got to see was the after shock of laughter coming from my driving instructor riding by my side that rose over the sound of the roaring tractor. After I baled one row, another co-worker jumped on for her turn. After that, I was off to take on the 50-year-old tractor that was pulling the rake around, readying the piles of grass to be collected by the baler. I actually preferred this tractor to the modern, John Deere. It's controls were simple and I did not even notice the lack of power steering (ha, I got my strength back). While I was riding it and trying to listen to the guidance from my new, more gentle driving instructor...I couldn't help but feel like I went back in time. I felt like a real farmer and nothing could take the grin off my face at that moment.

Now that I am writing and sharing my day with you, I am still smiling. The funk is gone. My boyfriend always tells me when I am worrying or in a negative state of mind, "Dude, God always hooks it up. Everything is going to happen just as it should because it's God's plan -- it's perfect, it's all there ever is." These tractor lessons to get me out of the garden to learn more about farming could not have come at a better time. This day of one smile after another, just reminded me what I am working on this organic farm for -- to learn. What I want out of this life is to be able to live with the Earth and God, not conform and be like everyone else. I am my own person. What I have become a part of at this farm is important to me and will make a difference in my life (and others'). What comes next? I have no idea, but right now I am okay with the mystery:)

Some delicious Purslane. This edible weed has succulent leaves and is probably growing in your own garden or backyard. Throw it in a salad for a natural, salty kick. It's sooo good, really!

Lost...

If you have been reading this blog, you can see I talk a good game. But, a feeling of confusion and being completely lost in life has been haunting me...

On one hand I have started this whole quest to "save the world" by starting with the most fundamental need -- food. I know I will look back at my experience on the organic farm fondly, but right now I have just been frustrated. I am not learning enough about the animals. Apparently that's a man's job because all the men work with the livestock and the women are left to toil away in the garden. I got a job on a diverse, organic farm for a reason. That reason was not to only learn about half of what we omnivores eat. Yes, I know how to grow my own food when sooo many people do not, but I am feeling a little disappointed. Maybe the next farm will be better, maybe I will subscribe to WWOOF (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms) and travel -- I have no idea. Lately, I am lost on what to do about my life as a whole.

When I see my friends, they ask, "Well, now that you are working on the farm...what are you going to do next?" Do you have any idea how terrifying that question is for me? The reason why it scares is because I don't have a next move. Yes, I have not completely left journalism. I am broadening my writing abilities everyday and writing for more and more publications. I plan to add these freelancing experiences to my portfolio, but what the hell am I going to do with my portfolio? I have no answers.

It seems every next move I come up with has to do with "saving the world." This mindset has not only stressed me out, it has made me forget about myself. What am I going to do to better myself and my career? Going back to school has crossed my mind, but for what?

My feelings of absolute confusion and being lost in my own thoughts has led to me being completely apathetic. I know I have work to do, I know I have to make money, I know I have deadlines...but right now -- I just don't care. What the f is wrong with me?!

I know this blog is really me just repeating what's going on in my mind out loud and is terribly depressing, but I really feel so lost. I have run out of ideas. Are these quests to try and change the direction our country is heading in just me avoiding growing up and conforming? I can't even answer what I want out of life anymore. As someone who has always been so sure of myself and what I want, this is a scary realization. Is it just a phase? Is it time to just get a "good" job? Or should I just suck it up and let time and God tell? I have no answers, hopefully that's just a part of youth...but, then again, I am not young anymore...

Nature Girl

It's official, I have become a bonafide hippie ass, nature lover...and, I have come to terms with this.

Many Eastern religions/practices believe that you can draw energy in from an outside source or, better yet, the earth. While working on the farm, I have not only formed a closer bond with the outdoors, but also all the creatures that come with the territory (i.e. insects). There are numerous times when I feel like I have worked to the point of absolute physical exhaustion and there is no chance that I can even pick up that hoe, let alone finish what ever row I may be getting ready to plant in. During those moments, without thought, I just look up. The thick woods that surround me, the turkey vulture flying overhead, the glimpse of the white belt of a Galloway through the woods, suddenly it all makes sense...

It's not new news that we have problems all around us -- the economy is collapsing, the free market is becoming more and more evil everyday, all of our politicians are soulless puppets, and to top it off, our own planet seems to be turning against us too. Regardless of how corrupt things have become, I can't help but feel this glint that there is hope. One day, while I was complaining about how hopeless it all seems, one of my co-workers (with far more life experience than myself) said the simplest statement which suddenly made my own bitching come to a halt, "Just be an activist." So simple, right? She then continued to say, "The civil rights movement seemed hopeless, women's' suffrage seemed hopeless; it didn't happen overnight. Those movements still happened because they remained activist."

This is not another one of my "preachy" posts, I am just asking that more people look up. The hardest days can suddenly become so perfect with a pretty flower, a rainbow popping up, or just a sweet sunset. The hippies were not just a phase, I see activism shining so bright in everyone I work with at the farms and all of my friends. We can see that a more loving, peaceful world is around the corner...there is just a HUGE bend to get around:) So, take the time to just look up, take the time to go for a walk after a horrible day at work and breath in the smells and fresh air. Meditation and stopping your mind from endless thought can easily be accomplished from taking in the "awe" of the world around us. The activism and your path to try and "save the world" will follow...

Another day, another sore back...

Today started out like any other day on the farm -- I rolled in about a half hour late to see all of my co-workers all ready knee deep in their tasks. Tuesdays are picking days and as the season continues, there is more to pick so my tardiness (although expected of "the girl who drives in all the way from Akron") is always embarrassing. To make up for lost time, I quickly got a basket, wet it down, grabbed a rag, wet that down and started picking Nasturtiums. Nasturtiums are an edible flower that are good for adding a "kick" to your usually mundane salad. Since we can't wash them (not sure why not yet), we have to keep them moist and beautiful -- this is where the wet wooden basket and towel to cover them with come in. In fact, on picking days, everything we harvest must be sheltered from the sun. Apparently direct sunlight on a plant that has just been pulled from its life source (the dirt, the plants' stem, etc) results in almost instant wilting. The wilting is not only unattractive, but I think it results in some loss of nutrients as well. Since most people who visit farmers' markets expect the produce sold to resemble that of the gassed and shipped produce you see at the grocery store, my boss insists that beauty and appearance are key. So...we follow orders.

Once I was finished picking the Nasturtiums, I then had to weed and "dead head" the almost overwhelming rows of them that remained -- the ones I did not even walk past before my basket was full of these gorgeous flowers. Although I was assisted by one of my co-workers, this task took all morning. It was rather uneventful and I spent most of my time politely asking passing bumblebees not to sting me while I pulled out all of the dead flowers and tackled the never ending task of weeding. Apparently people driving by were also able to see just how daunting this task was -- a driver of a pick-up truck who really wanted to know about the cows relayed a message from his passenger to me saying, "My Ma said you got yer hands full over dere, I hope they're payin' ya by the hour." I politely gave him a thumbs up to say "yes" although I really wanted to raise another finger and tell them to get out of the truck and help me if they're so entertained. My annoyance was quickly subsided as I continued to observe how patient the bumble and honeybees were with me as I tore through their environment. You see, we have to pick off the dead flowers, because those are stealing energy from the plant. If the dead flowers go, the plant then takes this hint to start producing new, young flowers for us to eat and sell at the market. This is really the same reason why people prune their plants by tearing off the bottom leaves -- push the energy upward to produce more of the...well, produce.

Next, up was lunch under the tree. After being bent over flowers all day all I wanted to do was lay down and straighten my back. I attempted eating and laying down for a moment when no one was paying attention -- it didn't go well.

Arrrrgh back to work, still with a sore back. What was next? Take a guess...more weeding. This time in the rows of tomatoes in neatly spaced raised beds. If you don't know what raised beds are, they are basically rows of raised dirt with hoses along each side and plastic covering them. We plant the tomatoes like this because their roots like to stay warm and moist while their stems prefer to be dry. Plus, tomatoes tend to be a haven for diseases, so watering them where they meet the soil is the best solution to avoid diseases spreading. If you water tomatoes from the top down (like you do with most plants), any disease on their leaves will work its way down to the roots -- infecting the whole plant. This weeding task was a little nerve wracking, because, for one, you felt like you were in the middle of a beehive. Numerous bumblebees were working diligently pollinating the tomatoes' flowers to produce some of those juicy sandwich toppings. My other concern also had to do with the bugs, but much bigger ones -- tomato worms. These beasts of a worm are cute at first (even for their size - about as big as your index finger with a little more girth), but their stinger that sits up from their back trumps any bumblebees.' Hence my irrational fear of bumping into one. Fortunately, I did not run into any of these worms and the bumblebees were more concerned with the nectar of the tomatoes' flowers than me...even if some were right next to my head, collecting pollen on their hind legs and taking off to the next, nearby flower.

After we pulled all the weeds, the next step was to bend over some more, pick up the piles, throw them into a cart, wheel them over to a compost pile, bend over some more and throw them on top of the heap of compost. At first we were taking these piles down a steep hill into the woods. During this venture back to the shade, I couldn't help but think about rumors of black bears that apparently are known to wander the area where the farm is located -- I did not see any. However, on one trip back I did nibble on a couple blackberries and venture down to the river to try and recollect any energy I had left by meditating on the water that rushed past. An hour after that five minute break of solitude, I was back to running on fumes and shear ambition, bending over, collecting piles of weeds, hauling the cart to the nearest compost pile, bending over, collecting piles of weeds and throwing them on top of the compost...ugh. As the day came to a close, I later found out that this order to collect the pulled weeds and throw them in the compost pile was an unnecessary order from one of my co-workers -- the always pleasant Martha. For a moment, I pictured myself jumping on her back much like a lion does to a caribou and clawing at her...but, she is too sweet and was obviously mistaken so that urge subsided. Instead, I continued bending over, collecting weeds, putting them in a cart, taking it over to the nearest compost pile, bending over, picking the weeds BACK up and throwing them on top of the heap of composting organic matter.

The day finally ended with the discovery of a tomato worm. Since we are an organic farm, we do not spray anything to keep these worms off the tomatoes. Instead, it was fed to the chickens who play tag with these juicy treats by passing them around to each other and pecking at the worm until this once scary creature transforms from a game to dinner. So, regardless of my almost completely stiff back, at least the chickens had a good evening:)