Day 2

Sunday was my first full day of work, and I learned the morning chores consist of feeding all the chickens and letting them out of the barn, (because they are indeed free range, and they're just more fun that way! I couldn't imagine being able to put them in a tiny cage for their whole life. They have such personality, and they're wonderful to be around–very calming. So BUY FREE RANGE. It's inhumane not to.) opening the greenhouse and watering the plants inside, and opening the corners of the high tunnels…which is a job I've learned to hate. I'm not tall enough to get it over the bend, so most of the time they just fall right back down after I raise them. It's frustrating, but I try my best.

Then, I weeded. And weeded and weeded and weeded. That was my only job for the day, and I went out into the field and weeded Edgar (the row with potatoes and tot-soy…and bolted lettuce, which I pulled along with the weeds) for about 7 hours total. I was by myself weeding a tiny forrest!

But I began to learn which stems were weeds and which were potatoes or tot-soy, just based on touch (I chose to weed without gloves).

I learned which weeds were easy to pull, such as wild amaranth, and which were not easy to pull.

I learned that dandelion roots are a singular cone shape, so if you tug it correctly, it's a satisfying weed to pull since you get the majority of the root.

I learned that I was brave enough to stick my bare arms into thick clumps of weeds, not knowing what plants of bugs were in there.

I learned to crush slugs with my bare hands, as slugs are not so good for plants.

I learned that plants bolt sometimes, because they feel threatened. A bolted plant is essentially a plant that is going to seed REALLY fast, so it doesn't produce the produce that we like to harvest. But you can collect the seed. Bolting is a survival mechanism, if the plant itself can't survive, then hopefully their seeds will, and their species will continue.

Working here makes it very apparent that plants are living things. You can't just plant something and hope it grows. Every plant is different, and they can get sick and weak due to different factors, just like us. For instance, the flood that happened before I came to Channery Hill is still having an effect on the plants. The ones that were in the path of the flood are more susceptible to pests because they're weaker and can't fend themselves as well.

Anyway, there was a LOT of bolted lettuce because lettuce thrives in a colder climate, so the heat agitates them, makes them nervous, and makes them go to seed early in the hope that their seeds will continue their species.

Everything on this earth is fighting to survive. Nothing living is passive. Not humans, not any other species of animals, not plants, and especially not weeds!

But, the final thing i learned that day was that I am a slow weeder… I didn't even get close to halfway down the 350 ft row during that 7 hours. Eh…maybe I'll learn and become quick.

Here's something else: I'm sitting there in the field alone weeding away in the sun, and i hear a siren, which to me, signifies that there's a tornado… huh. the sky is clear and the sun is out, so I just keep weeding! I later learn that it's a test siren that they turn on everyday at noon. Since I have no way to keep time out there, it's a nice way to know that lunch will be soon.

In the evening I met the prospective intern, Lauren. She's really nice and awesome with sebastian, and is thinking of beginning in September. I hope she does, it'd be great having another intern around once Jimmy leaves.

So, there was some rain in the evening and we sat on the porch and pet the kittens, then ate dinner and went to bed.

End of full day 1-here's some of the things I thought about as I sat all day weeding by myself:

I now know what real monsters are–they're the towering weeds that hold millions of tiny seed pods that, if nestled ever-so-gently by the wind, will fly all through your newly weeded potato patch and sprout before you can even gasp!

If I get tired and feel like giving up, I can turn around and look upon the vast and lush mountains and in that gaze I remember why I am truly doing this. It's to keep the natural beauty–not have it turned into a completely manmade world. Humans cannot create such beauty… but then I look back at my hand, and realizing there's a spider crawling there, I flick it away and begin to work again. My bare hands in natures soil.

My hands will never be clean again, and it's only day 2.

Things that used to freak me out or make me squirm are now just–eh!

Such as spiders crawling on my arms–slugs under my shirt on my back–moths in the shower with me–bees–foraging basically alone in a forest for blackberries, trudging through brush and thorns that rise above my head–sticking my hands into thick brush made up of unknown weeds and not knowing what I'm going to touch…

I no longer have that regret that at the end of the day, that I've accomplished nothing.

That is what I love.

And here is a CHICKEN SERIES!

If it's feeding time, you become a rock star, and they chase you. It's exciting!