Alright, I am sitting down and forcing myself to write another blog rather than disappearing into a book, which is what I want to do.
By the way, are you reading my blog? Are you enjoying reading my blog? Would you like to continue reading my blog? Let me know! Leave a comment, send me an email, or comment on facebook. This blog is for you. I have my own journal—two of them, actually,—so I need some motivation to keep writing this. Motivation in the form of people reading it is good.
That said, what have I been up to these past two weeks? We’ve been in top transplanting mode, what with the nice weather and all. We almost emptied the greenhouse and coldframes of lettuce, radicchio, endive, scallions, onions, celeriac, fennel, swiss chard, cut flowers, parsley, broccoli, and kohlrabi, but filled it back up by seeding more scallions, watermelons, cucumbers, squash, lettuce, basil, brussels sprouts, cabbage, and chinese cabbage.
Whenever we are doing a long, tiring job, we joke “Who eats this stuff, anyway?” At first it was “Who eats endive?!” (Seriously, who does?) But after two 200-foot beds with three rows each of onions spaced six inches apart, it is “Who eats onions?!”
The highlight of last week was shearing sheep! The Unnamed Farmer had 8 sheep to shear, and we got to help him out. First you have to catch the danged thing. This is difficult, as they are perfectly terrified and will trample the lambs if they get too excited. Being the smallest, I claimed the smallest ewe and chased her around the pen. I grabbed hold of her—as she was running down the incline of the pen. I somehow managed to use her forward momentum to jettison myself into the crowd of my fellow interns, unfortunately dropping the ewe. I finally caught her by throwing myself at her, tumbling her onto her back. Once they get on their back they calm down quick, and I dragged her over to the shears. I propped her up, balancing her on her butt and leaning against my left leg. Then with heavy, loud, hot, wildly vibrating shears, I proceeded to give her a haircut she will not soon forget.
Before I was halfway done I thought my back was going to give out, bending over like that. I held her by the ear, pushing and pulling her into the right position. All the ewe’s instincts for movement seem to conflict with mine, and I yanked her around just as graceful as a sick cat. All in all, though, I don’t think I did too bad of a job. She had a few scraggly pieces of wool dragging on the ground as she escaped back to pasture, but I only cut her once, and golly, she was still alive!
One thing I found amusing was how the Unnamed Farmer referred to the parts of the animals. With the ewes it was “careful of her udder,” “watch out for her teats,” and “don’t cut her vulva,” which sure made me flinch, let me tell you. But when we sheared the ram it was “don’t cut his guy parts.” Guy parts? Really? Maybe he just didn’t want to visualize it quite that clearly. He had no such sensitivity for me.
Two weekends ago we all trooped down to East Troy for a meeting with a bunch of interns from other farms. There were some presenters and activities, but the real point was to meet other interns, and meet them we did. It was really fun to get to know other people who are doing the same things and thinking the same way as I am. It was also interesting to see how much older than me nearly all of them were. Most of them had stories about finishing college with a degree they didn’t want before they got into farming. It made me really glad that I have realized what I want before I rack up more debt and use up more time toward a degree that I ultimately do not want. The other interns were quite jealous of me, both for figuring things out while still young and because my parents already have land that I can go back to. The main concern for everyone else seemed to be how they would afford land, and I was made even more grateful for my parents’ foresight.
Last weekend was a double holiday, mother’s day and my father’s birthday. I got to go home and spend the whole weekend with my family. A lot of the people I have been spending time with lately have parents who have passed away, are unable or disinclined to help their kids or be an important part of their lives. Seeing this makes me so thankful for my family, for my wise and wonderful parents who willingly offer me security and unconditional support in whatever I choose to do, not to mention land to farm, and for my fun and talented sister who I love to talk to and spend time with. I know that you all are reading this, and I wanted to let you all know how fortunate I feel to have you.
Reading:
I’m on a big fiction kick lately, and I can’t decide if it is a good thing or not. It’s good in that I love it, but bad in that I am spending much of my free time reading, and my work time thinking about what I am reading. I am rediscovering my love of stories, once again. I think this is what I like about theater, telling stories. I have been wondering what I can do with this obsession, since writing is frustrating to me and simply reading stories does not satisfy my creative instincts. I have been thinking that perhaps I would like to study some form of traditional oral storytelling. I don’t know anything doing this, but I know that I love to tell stories and I like performing, so maybe it would be something I could look into.
Cooking:
Exciting adventures in oven roasting potatoes.
As well as lots of bread, granola, and rhubarb sauce.
Creating:
I am frustrated by sock gauge.
That’s all. Ta ta for now.
~mortalasabee
I like the updates :)
ReplyDeleteAbout sheep shearing: I saw a pretty amazing sheep shearer at the Wi Sheep and Wool festival last fall. From catching the poor thing to having the fleece sheared off took less than a minute. It was a performance of grace and strength and precision, really a thing of beauty.
Yes! Keep writing. I love it when you talk about radichios (what are they exactly? Do rams have any?)
ReplyDeletePlease keep writing. I'm really enjoying this. I especially like hearing about the food you're making.
ReplyDeleteI love your blog, too. I think you ought to consider combining your love of performing and your interest in storytelling to create a "Traveling Farmer" program for kids to get them interested in eating and growing their own organic foods. It is something to do in the winter months when you can't be out in the field. You could incorporate some lighting in this and use what some of what you did learn in college. Then you could even branch out into written storytelling in children's books. Your imagery is great. "Chocolate cake soil" "Who eats endive, anyway?" "Sheep jettisoning you into the crowd". You could make a story out of each of those.
ReplyDeleteYes, keep writing! I love hearing about your farm experiences and living the farm life vicariously through your writings. Any pictures of the shorn sheep? :) Thanks for sharing your experiences!
ReplyDeleteplease keep writing! It's great! And I like the Baroness's suggestions - I'm working on figuring a way to use music/performance with nutrition. Maybe we can collaborate and teach kids and people about good gardening AND healthy eating practices. :) (andrea b.y.)
ReplyDeleteKeep up your blogging! Having grown up on a farm myself, the experiences and topics you write about have strong resonance, and are wonderful to hear from a person able to articulate them so well. You say that writing is frustrating --- one would not know it from how flowing and natural your writing reads.
ReplyDeleteThe straight forward and "matter-of-fact" way rural people deal with the "earthy", even gross or cruel aspects of farming is interesting --- and maybe problematic at times, in retrospect. My father didn't think a thing about it, and neither did I especially, when he would send me out to bury a dead hog that had been laying in the summer sun for three days, and was now a maggot hotel and a nearly retching stench. Or when we would corral a litter of weaner pigs in the hog house, and without benefit of even local anesthetics, grab and castrate each little male pig with a pocket knife. It was extremely dusty from the piglets scrambling about, our faces would turn brown as the dust settled in the sweat, there was loud squealing, and in response the sow would often try to jump in through the window we had propped opened to get a little air circulation --- my Dad would just bash the sow on the nose with a 2x4 he kept handy for that purpose, and on we went after a good laugh, especially if it was a close call. I suppose it could be argued that rural "matter-of-fact-ness", taken to an extreme degree, is part of how we end up with gigantic beef feed lots and total-confinement hog operations, etc. On the other hand, why be pointlessly squeamish about the physical and biological realities to which the urban vs rural divide in our society makes so many of us oblivious? As my wife Sue Ann might have said, who wore flip-flops while milking the cows, "Its just dirt".
I just discovered endive this fall and planted some in my garden. So yea, I eat endive. I loved your sheep shearing experience. I am not a blogger but I know it must take energy. How long are your work days? When do you find time for yourself? I agree with baronessVon Reed. Hers, is a great suggestion. You have a gift for story telling. When I read your blogs I laugh out loud. Keep it up if you can.
ReplyDeleteWow, I'm glad I sent out that little plea for attention. It's really good to hear from so many people. I can't respond to all of you, but thanks to each and every one of you for your comments! You have ensured that I will indeed keep on writing.
ReplyDeleteI am so jealous you got to sheer sheep. The stupid sheerer I got to observe insisted that only fully-trained, burly people of the male persuasion would ever be able to sheer sheep. And here you got one on the first go. (And HE almost killed one of Bob's sheep with a gouge to the neck!)
ReplyDelete"All the ewe’s instincts for movement seem to conflict with mine, and I yanked her around just as graceful as a sick cat."
...is that so, indeed.
You know how I feel about stories. I'd love it if you continued to write...I know what you mean about the frustration, though. It's never stopped plaguing me. I also know what you mean about the creative urge, and theatre. ALSO, recently I was thinking that I remembered Lorece telling me something about there being classes or lessons you could take in oral storytelling through the SCA. If you don't end up on a boat this winter, we could check it out together, maybe?
Love you! So very, very much. Can you believe we were all four together for all four birthdays this year? I have no idea when that last happened. Dad/s birthday/mother's day was great. I have the pictures of your three and Martha as the background to my computer at work. *grin*
-M