stormy sky

luxury

being a farmer has its own luxuries. like eating raspberries barefoot in the bushes, at the end of a hot day, until i can eat no more. a lot of raspberries. like $50 worth. and no worries about staining my clothes either.

eggplant and a funky carrot. i think eggplant are beautiful.

 tomatoes are 10 ft tall in the greenhouse

garlic harvest is over, garlic hanging in the barn

peace

Life can be so beautiful.

Right now, we can barely keep up with all the work we have. Actually, we’re not keeping up, we’re behind. I can get lost in that feeling of how much there is to do, how many different needs to attend to: the fields, the customers, my family.

Yet, when I stop, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. It is such a beautiful and plentiful time of the year. So much abundance, so much that we are given. Making a simple lunch with fresh picked tomatoes, basil, garlic, kale, is a meditation in itself. These fruits from the earth sustain us in body, and for me, equally important, they sustain my spirit. I am humbled to be a witness to all the changes that are taking place outside day after day, season after season. I feel so lucky that I live on a farm and that my work is with the earth, the elements, and Nature itself.

I don’t want to idealize this lifestyle. It’s hard and exhausting on many levels. But for me, right now, it feels so real and alive, that even when it’s hard, I don’t want anything else.

Just before I moved to the US in 1999, while I was still in Montreal, I had a dream. I dreamed that I was walking on a well-trodden path in a park, when I noticed a large pit to one side. There were other people walking on the path, but nobody was going towards the pit. I could see wild animals in there, and I felt like I had to go and get close to them. I entered the pit and found myself in a different world. The wild animals were fierce but I was not afraid, just fascinated. It felt harsh to be in there, but there was also a freedom and a vital sense of reality. Then, I looked back to the path I had come from, and thought about where I was and all of a sudden, in one instant fear set in. The animals didn’t treat me any differently, but I was now afraid of them, and they looked much fiercer. I started backing out towards the path, keeping one eye on the animals. Just before I got out of the pit, I looked back and considered staying, but the fear was too strong. I got back out on the path, and started walking. Other people were there walking just like before, but I felt so different.  I looked back to the pit, and felt overwhelming regret. I felt like I had just ended the most authentic experience I ever had.

This dream stayed with me since I had it. It comes to mind when things are especially hard or especially beautiful in my life. Farming is like being in that pit, and I hope that its harsh reality does not take from me its beauty.

some thoughts from my father

my father sent the few lines below in an email from romania to my mom, my sister and i.
i think what he's saying is valuable and thought i'd share it.

This morning, while I was eating breakfast, I thought about how much confusion there is in the world. The most precious things are free - water, air, the health which we are given at birth – or very cheap (like tomatoes and feta cheese). Yet, we, under societal pressures, do everything we can to ruin them. We are not content with what is simple and free; we want expensive things in order to be accepted in the social circles we’re part of and to impress others. Instead of spending time with family and friends, we work overtime and ruin our health in order to buy things we don’t need; we encourage the industries that produce these things to pollute the air, water, our food, etc. Even so we are not happy, because the things we acquire through so much effort get old are outdated, and so on. And so we continue with this pointless race towards material happiness with slips through our fingers.

record setting

we harvested our largest and heaviset tomato so far - a heirloom named pruden's purple. it weighed 2.4lbs.

and here are 2 pictures of ed harvesting peas. the plants are 10ft tall (not a record - last year they were that tall or maybe a bit taller). this year ed devised a new method of harvesting, by attaching 2 milk crates to his boots with bungee cords, so he can reach the highest pods and be able to walk along the row without stopping to move the crates. it worked well but looked really funny.

peace

heat

this heat has been great for the plants. we've had an explosion in the past week, unbelievable growth, litteraly overnight. many of the crops that were set back by the crazy rain we got a few weeks back are recovering nicely thanks to the heat.
for me, i have to admit, working in 90+ degrees F, and with the high humidity, is hard. the best way i found to deal with it is not to think about it, but to just keep working. and drinking. it seems that if i start thinking about how hot i am, i feel more tired and lethargic. also, taking a break is tricky, because it helps but then i just don't have energy to go back out there. we were joking this week that working in this heat is like being in the sweat lodge, but without the luxury of simply sitting there.

i did actually go to a sweat lodge yesterday, and it felt great to be there as always. "living in the truth" kept popping in my head, like some kind of message i needed to give or receive or follow, and it's been on my mind since. what does it mean to live in the truth? i think i know what it means not to - i know what it's like to waste time pretending. but living in the truth, and what exactly that entails, on a practical and daily basis, that's something else, not so easy. but worth pursuing, i think.

peace