Different day, same clothes. I’ve been rotating between two tshirts and two pairs of jeans here. Everything gets so dirty I see no reason to bring in another outfit. I will take pics of the aftermath of which I’m sure my once blue jeans will be completely brown. Brown like oatmeal! Hot damn I’m great at segues…I heard everyone hustling and bustling in the kitchen since 7AM as my room is right off the side. I’m right by the backdoor that doesn’t lock, let alone ever even shut. This is something that a year ago would have totally freaked me out, but the fear of kidnapping is wearing off me…twenty years past how long it’s acceptable to have a fear of kidnapping, but still. So, I waited til 7:40AM to roll out of bed, roll out some some yoga stretches, roll into my dirty clothes, make oatmeal and head out.
Early morning to work in the ever boring Garden Center. From 8:08AM (8 minutes late, woops) to 12PM I seeded basil, cabbage, cauliflower and corn, hunched over these barrels filling the flats with dirt, seeding, covering, labeling and then sorting. My back is getting used to being hunched over and is actually improving my posture which makes the back pain at the time of seeding kind of bearable. I’ve notice I stand, sit and run straighter even after just these past three days.
We stopped for a half hour break to move seedlings onto the truck to be transplanted into the fields.
Winnie made lunch today: whole wheat pasta, summer squash, kale, and scrambled eggs. On the top is a hunk of bread and taleggio cheese that the newest apprentice I met today brought in from Brooklyn. It is a very soft, very stinky, very tasty cheese. This plate sums up almost everything I try to stay away from: pasta, bread, cheese. And it was all delicious.
After lunch it was back to the Garden Center. Here are my flats of basil soaking in the shade
Cedar watching on, a 6 month old border collie that is sweet as pie (an hour later she ate one of our flats…oops)
She ate a corn flat actually. One that looks like this. Note my withered wrinkly fingers. Farming is not skin friendly. My skin cannot be quench no matter how much jojoba oil and lotion I slather on them after work.
I only seeded corn for one flat before being stolen away to plant mums. This is a huge job. They are growing 6,000 mums. Myself, Reina and Dolores filled a hundred buckets here before moving to the dirt filer machine and filling anther hundred. We picked up those bags in the background and distributed amongst these hundred. I was thankful for some physical labor.
Then joined them up like so and planted three mums in each pot. This wound up only taking a couple hours.
The dirt filler is a filthy machine You put a bucket onto a conveyer belt that feeds through to the other side as it fills with dirt. I was on the receiving side and bc of the filler and the high winds, was caked in dirt. The sexy kind of farmers tan:
This was right next to the bee hives on the farm, the owner is taking an apiary class which is why we have fresh honey combs in the kitchen to use
Apparently volunteer hours are from 8AM-4PM…I learn this on my third day. but upon hearing this and them suggesting I take off (it was 5PM) I barely responded before turning to gather my things and head to the house. You don’t have to tell me to take early dismissal twice, and this meant I could take a long leisurely run before a decent dinner time. I walked back to the house, stopping again for those mulberries.
And set out for a run…except I could not get myself to lift off to a running pace and walked my lazy butt down the road
Finally reaching the dirt path I started to jog (the mosquitos attacking my face had a hand in my sudden motivation)
Watch it, hunters! Ain’t no fishing in these woods!
And finally…the beach. The beautiful, sunny, dusky, private beach.
It was so peaceful. The housemates had gone for ice cream, but I was happy to miss it bc I wouldn’t have been able to resist the temptation
Even the seaweed looked pretty
I collected some rocks along the way for some skippin’. Took in the beauty for a minute and then jogged myself along the beach and back
I hoped since I started on the beach, the run back would take at least 40 minutes. The race in a week or so is 9.3 miles which will take me I assume an hour an a half and I haven’t run for more than an hour in days. This looks like Vermont or Ireland. I don’t understand the Long Island haters out there when we have views like this:
The run only took twenty minutes. The mosquitos must have pepped up my pace. Tomorrow…tomorrow I will be good and run a long time and not indulge in Capn crunch and wine and ice cream…maybe?
Dinner was the remainder of random veggies I had from Monday evening and it was no bueno.
I would up eat half and scraping the rest. A cup of peanut butter capn crunch, pretzels and almond butter suited me much better than this, but probably out of shame and guilt I “forgot” to take a picture of the indulgence
I slept so soundly last night. Weird dreams, but at least it was uninterrupted. I still wake up exhausted each morning. Tonight I might have done some damage as the hill coming back from the beach is a bitch and I jogged most the way up it and I’m actually feeling sleepy. Tomorrow I best jog the whole damn thing. And I better not eat crap. I can’t leave having gained weight on a farm. Okie, hasta manana. Two more days left!
And as I crawled under my sheets and was ready to shut this down I got a huge whiff of pot…someone in this farmhouse is having a peaceful night.
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