Today, specifically this evening, I was finally inspired to blog. I know it may be crazy to think that I ever spent any time here not being inspired, but I suppose it has just taken an extra nudge from God to remind me of my fabulous life.
I began this morning by sleepily arguing with my roommates as to who would get up first. And when I say "arguing" I really mean groggily mentioning that the first one up gets the bathroom first. Kim and Lauren usually giggle in a quiet, slow way and we begin our mornings. They really are wonderful roommates. We get along so well and have a fun dynamic. Amazingly it takes all three of our alarms (all three going off at 7:30am) to wake us up enough to start our days. I sleep on the top bunk, so I justify getting out of bed the latest with my inconvenient location. I am usually exhausted, but who works on a farm and isn't?
I spent the morning researching country and region specific folktales and games to add to our country booklets. I think I made good progress. At lunch I spoke with my father, who is coming up to visit the farm and drop Hannah (my 15 year old sister) off to see me and experience the kind of work that Brentwood just doesn't provide. He will mainly be visiting his company's hospital in Worcester, which is conveniently no more than 25 minutes away from the farm.
I continued to voraciously read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. It's an amazing book about (as the author puts it) "eating deliberately" for a year with her family. I can't seem to put it down and I highly suggest it to everyone. If you think learning about small family farms and the stark contrast between them and big agribusiness isn't for you, then at least pick it up to read Kingsolver's style. It's very well-written and quite eye-opening.
Anyway, this afternoon I had a really nice experience. I received my first mail from my devoted Pop Pop in Florida. It was a short note, but full of sagacious quips and grandfatherly encouragement. I hopped down to the garden in giddiness. I was asked to come work in the garden for part of the day, since I didn't have a group to facilitate. I always jump at the opportunity to "play in the garden" as I say. I really love it. I have truly enjoyed conceptualizing, building, nurturing, and tending to my own garden at my Appalachia site, that getting to work in the main garden (about 2 acres) is like when your mom surprised you with a trip to the biggest playground in town. Our garden staff (many of them my stellar housemates) are cheery folks who get to move dirt and produce our kitchen's crops from seed to fruit. Today was a special day, because we were transplanting the last of our seedlings to plant out the garden. Planting out means that all of the rows are filled. Specifically we were doing all of the crops for the winter. Turnips, herbs, carrots, brassicas, okra, squash, eggplants, scallions, leeks, rutabaga and beets all appeared over the course of a few hours. The garden is one of those magical places on the farm where no livestock are walked or kept (at least, unless they decide to wander outside their pens). This means that there is nothing icky on the ground that would force us to keep on our shoes (read: manure).
Planting basil today with my feet in the nude was one of those things that just made my heart want to sing. I know you can just imagine me and my "hippie" friends (they'd laugh if you called them that) frolicking in the garden with no shoes, praising Mother Earth for the bountiful transplants, giggling and singing in merry agricultural bliss. Let me assure you, that while we are more than happy to be planting baby organic plants with good friends, the barefoot portion (not shared by everyone, by the way) is merely icing on the cake and not a requirement for work (but how awesome would that be?!). Technically, we're not allowed to go barefoot on the farm for reasons I mentioned above, but I feel as though it add just one more notch of happy to the atmosphere. I excitedly pushed off my shoes and peeled back my socks, eager to feel my toes sink into the warm, tilled soil. I planted about 7 kinds of basil and supplemented them with a fish emulsion to boost the nutrient content of the young plants' locale. All the while, my fellow friends and I chatted about everything from a new host couple (just out of college, YIPEE! They can actually RELATE to us!) to contra dancing, and how we plan to go this Friday night. That hour of gardening was my first moment of inspiration.
Afterwards, I herded the sheep from their pasture to the barn and helped Jen, another Ed Vol, conduct her Global Village Market, which is where all of the groups which are spending their night in one of our nine Village sites uses fake currency to buy their food for their dinner. It's a great lesson in scarcity and poverty in the face of need.
It was at this point that I thought it was a good idea to go for a run. A long run. It was a hot day, uncharacteristically hot for Central Massachusetts, even in July. The breeze was delicious, but the recent rain had added an element of humidity. I meandered down our road, past the blinking stop light (one of 6 or 7 in the entire town) and turned left, all the while guided by an ancient stone wall peeking through the Narnia-like forest. But Rutland is farmland. I didn't have to wait long to prove my point. Over the next crest was an impressive plot of earth. The corn around here is about knee high and extends for acres until the treeline impedes its progress or the quilt of green is interrupted for an egg yolk yellow farm house or a perfect white barn. Here is, if you couldn't guess, where my second twinge of inspiration came from.
The road became progressively narrower and twistier, but my legs were more than happy to explore its challenges and hidden treasures. It seemed as though around every bend I had a 50-50 chance of either meeting another centuries-old farmhouse (no exaggeration; Rutland was incorporated in 1722) or another field of the chlorophyll-saturated maize that seemed to be stretching its uncountable arms to soak up as much sun as the day would allow. Eventually, the road emptied onto a main road, from where I was able to trot back to Overlook Farm in fair time. I think that Rutland treats runners well, on the whole. Nearly every driver gives me a wide berth, but sadly, no one waves back. Although I do not miss the oppressive heat and choking humidity of Tennesseean summer running, the friendly waves are something I'll look forward to witnessing again.
By the way, I carefully inspected my gorgeous garden, only to joyously discover that I already have six little booger-colored fruits and that my peppers are going to flower! I know that y'all are dying to find out how my collard and okra and tobacco are doing, so I'll keep you updated, don't worry. :) By the way, I carefully inspected my gorgeous garden, only to joyously discover that I already have six little booger-colored fruits and that my peppers are going to flower! I know that y'all are dying to find out how my collard and okra and tobacco are doing, so I'll keep you updated, don't worry. :)
Once again, I've planned a short(ish) post in my head, yet desperately failed. Good on you if you made it through this. I can hardly believe that I'll be gone from the farm in less than a month for blasted ResLife training. Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike my job, I just wish I was around to witness the quite literal fruits of my labor and hang out with my new (are they still new?) friends just a little longer. I have so much more to learn. It's going to be hard to part from this blessed place. I keep telling myself to work hard (right, like that's hard for me- do you know me? ha!) because it will regrettably be over sooner than I think. Alas, I've had a successful day. You may ask, how, Chelsea, do you classify a successful day? I'll tell you, my patient fans. I am exhausted, but in a good way. In a way that lets me know my body and mind worked hard and to their respective potentials. I have dirt that is embedded underneath my fingernails, and the hint of thrill before my shower taunts me: is it just dirt from the garden, or did I actually tan today? Nine times out of ten, it's good ol' Massachusetts mud. I can dream. I catch up with my housemates over leftovers from the kitchen, and post an outrageously long stream-of-consciousness reflection, and go to bed. I'll probably sleep through the roosters tomorrow (my brain has mostly adapted to their masculine wake-up calls to the hens and the rest of God's creation) but I'll be up in time to harvest (6:30 or so). It's been a good day on the farm.
Don't forget to write!
216 Wachusett St.
Rutland, MA 01543
In peace and sustainability,
Chelsea
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Only 4 weeks left?!?
Okay, so I've come to more than a few conclusions:
-I love local farms and their produce and animals.
-Rural Massachusetts is just as pretty as rural Tennessee.
-This farm is not truly sustainable, but it's getting there.
-Garlic scapes are delicious.
-Chickens are smarter than turkeys, but just barely.
-I think I want to go to law school (to save the world).
I wish that could sum up everything that's been swimming through my mind over the past few days, but of course, that only touches the surface. Quite a lot has happened on the farm.
This past weekend was the International Fair, where about 1,800 people showed up on the farm to walk around, pet the animals, see demonstrations, and make Chelsea's World Famous Butter Churning Exhibition. But seriously, I really liked the fair. Although it was busy as hell (not that running a simultaneous garden, farm, and educational center isn't on a daily basis), let's add a few hundred people, make sure the cows escape at least once, and have the most torrential downpour I've ever seen (or swam in). It was an incredible weekend! I think the farm did really well, and I liked showing people how to make butter ("Can I have the recipe? This is really good!" Me: "Sure, all you do is agitate heavy cream until it separates." Them: "Seriously though, it must be a really hard process, what do you do?" Me: "Add heavy cream to a mason jar and give it to your kid to shake around. Rinse and refrigerate." Them: "AMAZING!"). What's really amazing is how commercial food production has completely removed this practice from daily lives. Insert here my schpiel on big agribusiness and marketing scams and how they've degraded the state of the American and World's diets in the past 80 years. Blah, local farming is the way to go.
Lately, there's been a lot of talk amongst the residential vols at how much the farm talks like we're sustainable and using rotational grazing, etc. Well, here's my thought on it all. I know that we're not totally sustainable. Anyone who would take a close look at the farm would see that, too. However, this place is the closest to sustainable that I've ever lived in. On the whole, I'd say folks here are incredibly conscious of their carbon footprints, and that reaching sustainability is a long-term goal at the end of a slow process. That is not all to say that it's unattainable or idealistic, rather, that small committments together add up to making an enormous difference, and I think that our patrons and farm visitors notice that. I try to be optimistic when this topic comes up in fireside conversations, because it's easy to get down on this place when it's all that you see and do. Overall, I'm proud to call myself an employee and resident of the farm. Of course it's not perfect, but neither is the world, and that's why Heifer does what it does.
Here is why chickens > turkeys. Our gardeners are struggling with an invasive bug called the Colorado Potato Beetle. They spent the better part of the morning pulling them and their larvae off our crop. At lunch time, we sought to host a Colorado Potato Beetle feast. Who better to invite than our poultry friends? So, we ventured over to their coop and ceremoniously laid the protein-laden beetles in full view of the turkey chicks. Nothing. Not even a few pecks. Here are crawling hundreds of tasty, nutritious snacks that any impoverished Peruvian turkey chick would LOVE to eat, but our stuff American heritage breed turkeys will have none of it. Scene Two: Insert our chicken chicks and the beetles we scooped up from the turkey tractor (we don't waste anything, not even our invasive species!). Count 10 seconds. Bugs are gone. Victory! That is why chickens are marginally smarter than turkeys.
Finally, I think that I want to go to law school. It is all very theoretical at this point, but I am tossing around the idea of doing my Peace Corps tour after graduating from Maryville, then coming back with the Fellows/USA program and getting reduced tuition at a law school. I think I want to look into advocacy or human rights. I feel so behind! I am in the process of ordering some LSAT books now. I hope I can get some good studying in before school kicks back up. Which reminds me. Today is July. In less than 5 weeks I will be back in Maryville for Residence Life training. I can't believe it. I really can't. I still have so much more to learn, so much family to visit up here, so much World left to save, so much to see and experience and make and do! Time's a wasting!
Happy Summering!
Chelsea
Chelsea Barker
c/o Overlook Farm
216 Wachusett St.
Rutland, MA 01543
(You should test out that address to make sure it works by sending me a letter or package or something.... hint. hint.. :) )
-I love local farms and their produce and animals.
-Rural Massachusetts is just as pretty as rural Tennessee.
-This farm is not truly sustainable, but it's getting there.
-Garlic scapes are delicious.
-Chickens are smarter than turkeys, but just barely.
-I think I want to go to law school (to save the world).
I wish that could sum up everything that's been swimming through my mind over the past few days, but of course, that only touches the surface. Quite a lot has happened on the farm.
This past weekend was the International Fair, where about 1,800 people showed up on the farm to walk around, pet the animals, see demonstrations, and make Chelsea's World Famous Butter Churning Exhibition. But seriously, I really liked the fair. Although it was busy as hell (not that running a simultaneous garden, farm, and educational center isn't on a daily basis), let's add a few hundred people, make sure the cows escape at least once, and have the most torrential downpour I've ever seen (or swam in). It was an incredible weekend! I think the farm did really well, and I liked showing people how to make butter ("Can I have the recipe? This is really good!" Me: "Sure, all you do is agitate heavy cream until it separates." Them: "Seriously though, it must be a really hard process, what do you do?" Me: "Add heavy cream to a mason jar and give it to your kid to shake around. Rinse and refrigerate." Them: "AMAZING!"). What's really amazing is how commercial food production has completely removed this practice from daily lives. Insert here my schpiel on big agribusiness and marketing scams and how they've degraded the state of the American and World's diets in the past 80 years. Blah, local farming is the way to go.
Lately, there's been a lot of talk amongst the residential vols at how much the farm talks like we're sustainable and using rotational grazing, etc. Well, here's my thought on it all. I know that we're not totally sustainable. Anyone who would take a close look at the farm would see that, too. However, this place is the closest to sustainable that I've ever lived in. On the whole, I'd say folks here are incredibly conscious of their carbon footprints, and that reaching sustainability is a long-term goal at the end of a slow process. That is not all to say that it's unattainable or idealistic, rather, that small committments together add up to making an enormous difference, and I think that our patrons and farm visitors notice that. I try to be optimistic when this topic comes up in fireside conversations, because it's easy to get down on this place when it's all that you see and do. Overall, I'm proud to call myself an employee and resident of the farm. Of course it's not perfect, but neither is the world, and that's why Heifer does what it does.
Here is why chickens > turkeys. Our gardeners are struggling with an invasive bug called the Colorado Potato Beetle. They spent the better part of the morning pulling them and their larvae off our crop. At lunch time, we sought to host a Colorado Potato Beetle feast. Who better to invite than our poultry friends? So, we ventured over to their coop and ceremoniously laid the protein-laden beetles in full view of the turkey chicks. Nothing. Not even a few pecks. Here are crawling hundreds of tasty, nutritious snacks that any impoverished Peruvian turkey chick would LOVE to eat, but our stuff American heritage breed turkeys will have none of it. Scene Two: Insert our chicken chicks and the beetles we scooped up from the turkey tractor (we don't waste anything, not even our invasive species!). Count 10 seconds. Bugs are gone. Victory! That is why chickens are marginally smarter than turkeys.
Finally, I think that I want to go to law school. It is all very theoretical at this point, but I am tossing around the idea of doing my Peace Corps tour after graduating from Maryville, then coming back with the Fellows/USA program and getting reduced tuition at a law school. I think I want to look into advocacy or human rights. I feel so behind! I am in the process of ordering some LSAT books now. I hope I can get some good studying in before school kicks back up. Which reminds me. Today is July. In less than 5 weeks I will be back in Maryville for Residence Life training. I can't believe it. I really can't. I still have so much more to learn, so much family to visit up here, so much World left to save, so much to see and experience and make and do! Time's a wasting!
Happy Summering!
Chelsea
Chelsea Barker
c/o Overlook Farm
216 Wachusett St.
Rutland, MA 01543
(You should test out that address to make sure it works by sending me a letter or package or something.... hint. hint.. :) )
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