Farm Life: A Day Off

With a 24/7 job, getting away can be exciting and rejuvenating.

A day off becomes an opportunity to do something a little different, get some errands done, or just act like an independent adult.

Today I went to an enjoyable yoga class at Yoga Great Barrington, in Massachusetts. I ended up coming back to the studio twice because I left multiple things there. Even though I'm pretty active on the farm, I feel very tight and sluggish. The moderate vinyasa class I attended was the perfect way to loosen up as I go into the home stretch here at camp.

One of my biggest goals for my day off was to get my engagement ring resized. I am an impatient and somewhat impulsive person. This led to me telling Jesse the wrong ring size way back last year during my nagging "When are we going to get married?" phase (and by phase, I mean most of our relationship). I've had the ring resized once before, and it was still too big. I'm currently using a ring guard to keep it on my finger. However, now that we have moved the wedding up (72 days!), I need to send the ring (of the right size) to Brilliant Earth to get the matching band made. Now I'm in time crunch mode. Unfortunately, this goal was not accomplished today.

Although I didn't get my errand completed, I did have a nice lunch at the Gypsy Joynt in Great Barrington. It has a funky atmosphere and seems like a good place for live music. I had a quesadilla and a glass of wine while I sat at the bar and read The Return of the King. As I was leaving, I noticed the man a few seats down the bar had been sketching me. That was a flattering surprise!

Now that I'm back on the farm, I plan to work on wedding planning, nap, and eat chocolate.

18 Things to do before you're 18

As told by TeeJay!

Farm Life: Butterfly on my Foot

This butterfly landed on my foot the other day. It appeared to be depositing a liquid from its backside, and then immediately drinking it up. Any ideas on what this behavior is?

Farm Life: Construction

I wrote about noises earlier this week. But that was a very general, everyday description. It was very true for last year. This year is very different.

The Hawthorne Valley Association is going through some big changes right now. Much of the central farm area is actually a construction zone! Two buildings have been demolished this year (one during camp), and they are expanding the farm store. Jackhammers have been hammering away at the wall of the store for days. Backhoes, roadrollers, and front loaders have become common sights.

Not quite the idyllic landscape you had imagined, right?

Farm Life: Noise

One of the most surprising things about the farm is how noisy it is. In photos and in my memory, I see rolling hills, bright sunshine, idyllic red barns, cows grazing in the distance. In reality, it has the sounds of business. 

The cows moo and bellow, waking me up early in the morning. The roosters crow at all hours of the day. Tractors and other heavy machinery clang and bang along. Generators and air conditioners keep the creamery running smoothly. Tractor trailers rumble around the farm store, picking up and dropping of their wares. 

And the people! Campers ages 10 to 16 screaming and hollering, running, the gravel crunching beneath their feet. Counselors’ conversations murmuring on the sidelines until they need the children's attention. Patrons of the store, visitors to the farm, all are wandering around speaking and laughing and calling. 

All this against the backdrop of the bits of the natural world we didn’t design. The wind rustles violently through the trees. Birds cheep and chirp and shriek all day. Frogs croak and peep, calling out with amazing strength. Creeks, brooks, and streams, bubble, babble, and burble day and night. Cicadas and grasshoppers sing.

It is so noisy here.

Farm Life: Rain

Rain is a strong presence here. 

I recall several years ago encountering a heavy rainstorm most days as I commutes home from my summer job. Like clockwork, rush hour and dark clouds would coincide. I vaguely associated summer afternoons with these storms. 

Now I am wholly aware of the clashing weather fronts most evenings. Around dinner time the clouds start to darken. Before we head back to field camp to sleep the thunder starts echoing off the hills that surround us. By bedtime it begins to rain. And that's if we are lucky. 

During our training week, we had a particularly bad storm. It started to rain while we were eating dinner. It showed no signs of letting up by nightfall. Instead of slogging back to camp, we stayed in the main house for the evening. That was the right call. Both streams in the valley flooded. The waters flowed through camp, under the platforms and foundations, and even washed our footbridge off its supports. Had we spent the night out there, we would have been stranded until the waters receded enough to cross the stream. 

It hasn't been that bad since, but some weeks it seems that our shady little glen in the woods will never dry completely, or the muddy puddles on our path will never go away. Slowly the sun will dry up the earth, despite our silent pessimism. But until then we pull on our rain jackets and boots and splash through the day. 

Farm Life: Cows

A focal point of the farm is the cows. They’re highly visible most of the time, grazing in one of the many pastures here. They demand attention as they amble in and out of the dairy barn for milking. They call out as they walk, more of a bellow than a moo. 

They’re a focal point for the week for me. Once a week I am the counselor on early morning duty. I wake up two campers at 4:00 AM and we walk from our cabins and tents in the woods to the center of the farm. 

The first week or two of camp, in June, the sun is already peeking out from behind the mountains, illuminating our walk. By July, our morning is mostly dark. This is one of those times when I feel most connected to the cycle of the earth, the constant changing of seasons.

We meet a farmer or apprentice at the barn and walk out to the pasture with them. 

I remember visiting my relatives’ dairy farm years ago. One morning I got up early with them to help with the cows. I recall not understanding why the cows were outside all night - didn’t they live in the barn? Who leaves their animals outside all the time?

When we reach the pasture, several of the cows being to walk towards us. They know what it means when we arrive. The farmer opens the gate and the campers and I begin to walk the perimeter of the enclosed area. 

“C’mon cows!”

“Let’s go cows!”

As we walk the cows begin to stand up and amble toward the exit, toward the barn. Some need a little tap from us to get moving, others are eager to leave.  Some are too eager, overstepping the subtle hierarchy of the herd. A more senior cow is always there to shove them aside with the side of their horns. We must make sure we are not in their way when they do.

We follow the cows down the lane and begin the day.

Farm Life: Packing

Packing for camp this year was much easier than last year. 

Last year I overpacked a little. I brought my hiking shoes and several pairs of pants, among other things. The consequence of my ignorance was that when the mold and mildew settled in our tent, a result of a particularly wet summer, my extra unused clothes were prime location for those tiny organisms. I had to scrub mold off my boots! I sent them home with Jesse the next time he visited.

This year I knew better. I packed far less. In an average week I wear 1-2 pairs of shorts and maybe a pair of jeans, depending on the weather. I’ll wear a shirt or tank top 2 days in a row most of the time. As for shoes, I am almost always in my Keens. 

My Keen Clearwater CNX were one of my first purchases last year after coming to the farm. Within a few days of arriving my old Columbia sandals literally fell apart. I splurged and bought the thin-soled Keens based on my experiences in rivers (stubbed toes) and on what I saw at the farm. It seemed that every farmer had a pair of Keens, Tevas, or Chacos. 

I find my Keens are the perfect everyday shoe here. My feet get air, rocks and dirt are removed easily. I can slip them on and off in a few seconds, and they are lightweight. I live in my Keens here.

Keens don’t cut it for barn duty, though. I would not want to step in a pile of manure with sandals. For those days I wear my boots. A simple pair of boots works well enough, but I’m considering investing in a pair of Muck or Bog brand boots, as my current pair has developed holes after only one year. There is something to be said for investing in high quality items, and there’s a reason so many of the farmers around me wear these more expensive boots. 

Another change from last year is I don’t keep my clothes in my tent. We are lucky to have space in the counselor room to store our stuff this year. It’s a much better place for my personal items.

It’s interesting to look back on last summer and to look ahead for this summer, and think about how little I use or need on the farm. No one cares what you look like - some days you literally have poop all over you. Thus there’s less of a need to change outfits. You change your clothes when they get dirty. And you don’t want to dress too nicely because you’ll probably end up with poop and/or dirt all over you.