The Old Fashioned Way

This is a demon of a tool.  The weed-wacker.  oh, men and women a hundred years ago would have dreamed of such an amazing tool.  Something that ploughs down everything in it's way with a simple motor and a sharp blade.  But there is nothing simple about a weed-wacker.  I should preface this with the fact that I seem to have minimal patience for modern technology. It sucks my energy dry.  

The raspberries needed pruning.  we have 3 rows, 400 ft each of raspberries.  The traditional way of pruning raspberries is to get down on your hands and knees and take out those trusty pruning shears and go at it.  But Don, after spending 1200 ft on his knees decided the job could be done just as well with a weed wacker.  This is probably true, if you are someone who does not have some incredible mental block and great disdain for all things that hum extra loudly and whirr with frightening speed.  I was sent out at 11 am to do half of the raspberries.  By 11:30 I still could not get the machine to start and was getting more and more angry.  

I am not quick to anger, in most situations in life.  Rage is not an emotion I feel very often, really, almost never.  But when I am out in this big beautiful field, the sky blue, the birds singing everywhere, and a damn machine which refuses to work.  I feel angry...really really angry.  Cursing the person who invented such a ridiculous tool.  

Luckily I had my trusty pruners in my back pocket and began pruning by hand, as I waited for this machine to deflood.  Thinking the whole time, this would go so much faster and be so much more enjoyable if there were 10 of us with pruning shears, instead of me and the wretched machine which drowns out all things lovely.  

So by 12:00 with the weed-wacker still not working and only about 10 ft of raspberries gone I decided to head back and see if the situation could be remedied.  The whole time cursing the machine for never working for me.  I threw the weed-wacker over my shoulder and picked up my safety goggles and ear protection to take the 10 min walk back to the barn, after an hour of pointless work.  

An hour, of pointless work...which led to anger and frustration.  Because the machine would not work.  And so I say to hell with machines...bring on the hands of people I love and people who need work.  Bring on work which draws us together rather than create unrest within the individual.  May we touch the earth, be pricked by the raspberries, and walk 1200 ft on our knees with a friend.

or remember to push the safety clutch in when turning the weed-wacker on.

 

this is part of communal blogging with friends. see cutting the mustard and golden green and blue days for other posts on this topic.

Pig Muck

pig muck: grain, compost, cow manure, urine, pig shit all mixed together into a wonderful sloppy mess.

pig muck occurs when the pigs have not been given enough dry bedding.  why you may ask haven't they been given dry bedding.  oh for many reason.  1. pure laziness on my and don's part. the pigs do not take top priority on a farm, well not on our farm.  and 2. because the dry wood chips are wet due to rain.  so the other day when i thought i would remedy the muck by putting in more wood chips i wondered if it made sense with wet wood chips.  but there are consequences to not taking care of animals to the best of your ability.  as there are consequences to not taking care of anything in our lives.  unfortunately i received the brunt of the pig muck.  yesterday while watching gabriela and micah, i attempted to get the chores done.  i had been with the kids all day and so was wearing "street clothes" which means non-farm gear.  and why change for 20 mins. of chores?  well the pigs decided to be overly zealous for their scrumptious grain and greeted me with leaps of joy, something they never do, spraying pig muck everywhere...on my face, neck and on my clothes.  and well you see clean, non-manury clothes are a treasure on the farm.  and so this was one of those incredibly frustrating moments.  the 5 and 2 year old stood by puzzled by my sudden anger at the "darling" pigs. hmm...it was one of those momemnts when I thought do i really want to be in pig muck for the rest of my life.  well i don't, hence the lesson to be learned...give them a DRY PEN.  

also in the line of pig muck i have decided to tackle finances.  i hate numbers, money, finances in general.  and yet after years of thinking of it, preaching it to others and every once in awhile, during a moment of financial crisis embracing it, i have decided to keep track of all i spend money on.  i even have a nice little excel sheet which adds it all up for me.  and then a budget which tells me how much i am saving, spending, etc.  so i am intending to turn the muck of finances into something fertile.  i can not farm without getting a strong hold on this portion of my life.  so thank you dad, for years of encouragement in this direction.  you will be pleased to see this process in action.  and i am sure i will be surprised to see how many places i can cut down in my spending.  

so raise your glasses to the muck that surrounds us, and which gets all over us and drowns us in sorrows yet moves us into new realms.  Thank you pigs.

 

so cute as they sleep...the little devils

outside the box

ah. so this was my brilliant idea. and now i have no idea what to write about.  it came about because i was thinking about how i am trying to do something each week that i would not normally do.  i am trying to think outside the box of my own life.  and have been somewhat successful with this.  going to a happy hour to connect farmers with foodies...not really my thing. but i don't know people here so may as well try.  and though i have a deep rooted fear of walking into a large group of people on my own, it was actually fine and i knew quite a few people there.  so i know it is important to do things outside our comfort zone.  and yet what else is there to say.  i realize that i like to meet people and put them into boxes.  i have all sorts of boxes for humanity, those i feel like are worth getting to know better, those who could be kindred spirits, those who do cool things, those who i find dull, oh it goes on and on.  and yet more and more i realize these boxes are all wrong.  i continue to make poor judgements.  the super christian who i think will drive me crazy ends up being a good solid soul.  the mean lady at the farm, ends up being thoughtful and insightful, and spends time with monks.  I like to think i don't compartmentalize humanity.  but i do.  i organize humanity so it will make sense to me and fit within my small frame of reference.  and so "outside the box" is a wish for me.  to see beyond the walls i have erected within my own life.  

this is part of a topic blogging with friends....

Notes from the Week

The Apple Tree Borer...

a beast among apple trees...sneaking inside the trunk, laying it's eggs...and the wee larvae gorge themselves on apple wood.  Leaving a dark hollow place where once young life use to be.  I have had my first encounter with this small destructive creature.  Ah, it too is just trying to survive.  And I am sure it has some purpose in this circle of life.  But there is something so disheartening about trying to revive a tree and finding another has found a home there.

 A challenge of the week...The Native American Plum Tree.  Just look at the picture and you may understand the problem.  

It was a bit like manuvering yourself through a thorn bush.  I am not convinced this tree is going to live.  It is brittle and seems to have a bit of a nasty streak in it. 

This was a tree I was dreading to prune...but I ended up just delighting in it.  Again...I may have removed too much....and yet it feels so good now.  I may not feel this way as warm weather comes and this lovely tree begins to shoot up lots of new growth.

Ah, and now for some signs of SPRING!

rising waters as the snow melts

buds...beautiful buds

green, our onions are popping up. winter will be over. and again there will be abundance.

Challenge

I spent my weekend with two children, 2 and 5.  It was spent outdoors in beautiful warm weather. And there were hikes and baking and reading...lots and lots of reading. Anyone who knows me, knows I love to read aloud.  It is a time for acting, for trying on new voices and exploring new roles. But also with reading aloud comes the children's desire to read the same book again and again and again. I remember this tendancy in myself, wanting to hear "goodnight moon", just one more time. Now if your children have impeccable taste, as I obviously had, this is fine. But for some reason children always seem to be a bit drawn to that book that just gets under my skin. This weekend that book was "the happy birthday" book by Dr. Seuss. I read it once, and thought...that is a dumb story...and then I read it again...was bored with the rhyme and annoyed with the repetition. Ah, how do I instill in the youth of today my fine taste?   I discovered up in my room I held a secret weapon. A special gift given to me before I left to spend time with the trees. I figured one Dr. Seuss should be able to be replaced with another, and so I brought out The Lorax. This book held power. I would finish it and they would say "again". It would be time to read and the 2 year old would chant, Lorax. I believe in over a 30 hr. period I read this book at least 8 times. And the joy was that I was thrilled to keep reading it. The rhymes are witty, the story compelling...and the end, each time I read it, chills ran up my spine...as only a really good book does. So, to all of you who spend days with children who love to read...and find yourself reading Dr. Seuss books that are boring and way too long... I recommend turning to The Lorax...here at my almost 30 years I have just discovered this treasure...but it seems to work magic on children, as well as me. Thank you Rachel.

note:
this entry is part of a theme blogging going on with 2 other friends...jeannie and rachel...you can see their blogs on my favorites...each week we will blog on thursday around a declared theme...join in if you like...next week "Outside the box".

...sprouting from the rich compost of experience accumulated deep within us

i am in a discussion group focused on voluntary simplicity.  it is fine.  but thus far the readings have not been overly challenging and much of me would rather hear the wisdom from the desert fathers, or others who are living radically simple lives.  mostly we are talking about having too many choices, buying too much stuff, having too many things...and this is all stuff i can relate to in my real life.  but here, here on a farm where my life is made up of a family and some apple trees and evenings pouring over books, my life feels simple.  and so in my self righteous way i read the readings, feeling annoyed that nothing really touches me, or challenges me.  and then i read this line.  "That commitment may grow slowly, sprouting from the rich compost of experience accumulated deep within us." i was moved...this is the richness of humanity, of life...of living...all that we are continues to nurture us, to be an intimate part of all that we are.  we are all dirt. what could be more simple than that.