![]() With the first greens of garlic (it avoids the rush of farming). So, even though this year has been a wash (both financially and spiritually and sometimes a wash is good!), I will be here next year. And so, even though sometimes I would like to give it up, I can't. I have spent a lot of time on my hands and knees planting and weeding and no, I am not complaining, this has been my choice (and I love this part of it) the planting and weeding. Because I know that once I do, it'll be gone. He grows (he grew, now, he sells to those who grow but it's not the same). ![]() If so, he would probably still be loading up his 12MX, his pumpkin planter, of which we bought one and finally figured the thing out this year, and he'd be out there planting something, anything, for that is what he is, what he does. And I knew that he wished he had had this support when farming. We were massively flooded." "Ah, yes, but you had the support of the CSA," he said wistfully. "But I had to end the CSA early this year. "So, you're still doing this?" he asked incredulously. About double lines and shoe openers and needle-end lettuce seed. About air pressure and double disk openers. It was Dave who gave me the idea of breaking down each of the fields into smaller fields, like my garden, with multiple raised beds to plant and rotate crops with strips of grass to drive on. Dave spent hours on the phone with me discussing equipment and various options of various equipment, the combinations are countless. When I had nothing but a dream and some money from selling the laundro-mat and a very supportive husband. He was one of the first people that I talked to when I first started this venture. And even though I have had to plug my nose while cleaning up the barn and cabin and while driving to and from the farm, I am thinking about planters. (You can see why I never majored in science, the science of it escapes me entirely). But I keep remembering that little bit of science that I learned in high school, that the number of molecules in one vial of liquid when spread in all the ocean water would still be a lot. When I'm standing in the fields, it feels like I am standing by the ocean. And enjoy (which I need to do more of).I'd like to give the whole thing up. You've got to get both feet firmly planted on that surfboard and ride the rushing wave. In some ways, it's easier (there's more community support) and in some ways, it's more difficult (you can't just sit back, be conservative and let your boat float). ![]() ![]() And so, I am, farming (some people call it gardening but it's more than that, not really "farming" but farmeding or garming? we need some new language about this whole thing) like my mother and father did. Whatever you want your kids to be, however you want them to "turn out" do that. At least on the superficial conversational level. And I have also learned that it's best to not pay too much heed to my children. I'll never do that!" I haven't learned much in life. And if you told me that I would be growing vegetables in black dirt, I would have laughed and said "There is no way. And reading Henry Miller and Dostoyevsky. I moved into Manhattan and spent four glorious months doing nothing (workwise) and everything (NYC-wise) - museums, art galleries, off-off Broadway, Panchitos, Staten Island ferries, double features in air-conditioned theaters seeing James, Jimmy and Judy (Dean, Cliff and Davis). I worked that job for a little over a year, saved a bunch of money and quit. We would gasp in awe of the "power of the fax machine" which could send an entire page of information to Switzerland in just a minute or so compared to the slow. The telex business was quickly getting replaced by the revolutionary "fax" machine. I worked for Western Union International selling Telex (does anyone even remember what that is?) service, a dying business, to multi-nationals. Even though it was during a "recession" it was still easier then to find a job. I slept on my sister's couch in her NJ garden apartment for three weeks until I found a job and a place to live in Morristown, NJ in an old house on Western Avenue with three roommates. After graduating college early, I worked for Pizza Hut for one month, saved $300, packed my Volkswagen station wagon (I never craved cool cars) and headed east. Yes, I was one of four and we had 76 kids in our graduating class of '76. I attended a small, rural high school where the ratio of Future Farmers of America (FFA)to "college-bound" students (CBS, no just kidding!)was probably, no actually 72-4. He came to write (he is a writer of sports, particularly baseball, and covered the Mets for the Star-Ledger) and I came to leave the Midwest, particularly agriculture, behind.
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