Monday, April 2, 2012

Farm Sitting

This week I am farm sitting for a local CSA family as they deal with a family crisis.  Their newborn daughter (born at home) had to be rushed the hospital due to breathing problems, and then to Seattle where she remains hooked up to a huge machine. It is hard to even think about how difficult that must be for them, so of course I am eager to help any way I can.

It is heartening to see how people pitch in when its really needed.  The neighbors here in Eagle have been great, and all sorts of folks have been helping the Hasselblads deal with this. On the farm, I have been trying to keep the option of running the CSA this year available.

So far that has meant building greenhouse vents, coordinating compost delivery, planting 500+ tomatoes, and tending dogs and goats. I must admit I enjoy the oddly strict freedom of farming: there are so many things to do, but no one telling me what those things are.  I see the appeal. All the work I do feels rewarding, even as I know the pay off is months away, and still subject to failure. There is just something about working with soil, with living plants, and with animals that depend on me. It is responsibility at its most potent--no reprimands to deal with, only the steely and inflexible consequences of work performed well or poorly. These consequences ground everyday ethics in the world; it gives a whole new meaning to right living.  It is easy to imagine how damaging sloth and greed, lust and wrath could be to a society that was built on hand labor planting and bringing in crops. It is clear to see how beautiful and essential human love is. It is easy to imagine how tightly knit farming communities could be when adversity is always just around the corner, and good times depend on good neighbors.  In this way, as Wendell Berry points out, such community is like marriage. We agree to be in it for the long haul--thick and thin. We think it's worth it to love each other because we need each other. Not abstractly--really.

It is good to see this sort of community still exists. The steam of media which inundates our lives and tries so hard to define our reality, or the consumer economy which wants us to assuage isolation with purchases can't really provide space for this sort of community. Churches can, community groups and nonprofits can.  Farms can. We're all in this together--and even though it might be easy to forget in the fat times, it is important to never lose sight of that.

If you are interested in knowing more about Eowyn Hasselblad or EvenStar Farm, please click on the links.

1 comment:

halighalighanie said...

This is excellent. Loved this.