What can I say. My summer was a great story. I dropped everything, drove 1000 miles east, traded a studio apartment for a one room cabin, a refrigerator for a cooler with ice, clean(ish) tap water for rainwater, plumbing for a hole in the ground, and temperature control for full-fledged environmental volatility. I can make the living situation at the farm sound vicious and character-defining but in the end, though it was certainly a challenge, it was nothing more than honest. We knew exactly where our water came from: the giant water tank behind the kitchen. (We knew exactly where the mosquitoes came from: the giant water tank behind the kitchen.) All bug bites aside, the true value of life on the farm came in the form of appreciation. Appreciation for the fruits of our labor, the power of the sun, the power of shade, lessons learned, the skills acquired, weather nuances, the farmers' patience. Although each day started and ended with sore muscles and exhaustion, they also came sprinkled with new experience and appreciation. There were days of monotony of course but if the weeding just wasn't doing it for you, the company would have plenty of stories to tell to keep things interesting.
Hugging the cabin goodbye
Six months can sound short or long depending on what you're doing. This year, six months felt shorter than a carrot. Shorter than a swim in the pond. It was cold, it was warm, it was hot, it was warm, it was cold, and in the meantime 30 different crops aged from infancy to old age and dea...compost. A lot can happen in that time and a lot can be achieved. The skills and knowledge I learned are innumerable. Pruning, seeding, transplanting, weeding, watering, hoeing, fixing, tinkering, canning, welding, harvesting, chainsawing, stick-shifting, pest-controlling, haying, concrete-mixing and pouring, cinder block stacking, mortaring, roof building, arboring, blueberrying. I'm not even using real verbs anymore. Those are just the things I can put a name to. How do you define an experience that had no real start or end? Everyday experiences, like knowing when the big blue clouds are actually going to rain or if they're just for show or watching and understanding a crop's life cycle. Those are lessons that are observed not taught, and are sometimes the most valuable.
Of course, I don't know everything about farming, that takes a little bit longer than six months. But I did get a sense for the work, the lifestyle, the sacrifice, and the reward. None of which is easy but all of which is satisfying. I can truthfully say, that farming is something I want to have in my life, not necessarily as a career but as a fact of life. I'm back home now but I'm not moving on just yet. I can always get back to the farm through a taste of one of the wonderful sweet potatoes or canned peaches that came with me all the way from Virginia (probably not considered local anymore). I can also try to play mandolin like the folks on the street at the Floyd Friday Night Jamboree or attempt to dance the flatfoot way. I have to say, though, it's pretty hard to make Kansas look like the Appalachian Mountains. Nevertheless, it's an experience that will stay with me and one day I'll bring it all back around.
Thanks to any and all of my faithful readers (mom) I've had during the past year. From now on, this blog will be a documentation of my experience at Yestermorrow Design/Build School in Vermont plus anything else I come up with. Enjoy!