Day 37 (7/21/12): Golden Pond Camp

It was a relaxed and enjoyable day on the farm with much to look forward to.  Jillian had left last night, so I was alone for much of the day.  My undemanding to-do list included watering both hoop houses well, harvesting squash and cuc’s, weeding and composting the herb garden, and suckering and wrapping all of the tomatoes.  

All of these jobs were done with ease, and I even squeezed in cleaning up the CSA section, putting all the veggies into the farmstand fridge.  While doing so, I had an unexpected discussion with Mary.  She commented that the moon must be doing something funny.  I asked how she knew.  Mary was raised Unitarian, most of her family being Catholic, and she is now simply put, a spiritual being.  Only in recent years has she taken to reading horoscopes and following the moon’s patterns.  She’s found over the years that customers follow the same trends from day-to-day.  These trends seem to be controlled by the moon.  For example, many of the customers who came in today were more stressful than usual, beit talkative and overwhelming or stressful, people seemed kinda crazy today.  This comment of hers spiraled into more elucidation on her spiritual beliefs.   There is an energy everywhere that people can tap into.  Mary can’t always feel it, but on some days she knows that she has to make more pies than bread for market, and not by looking at sale records from this week last year, but by feeling that that is a necessary judgment.  She doesn’t know if her recent revelations of self come with age, but she did admit that these insights could have provided her with much needed strength at other times in her life.  She’s trying her best to urge Kenya down a path of similar discovery so that it doesn’t take her decades to understand what her mother does now.  I explained to her my desires to become a more faithful person.  I’ve always been a practical and logical thinker, and always struggled with the idea of a God existing, but still I am questioningly envious of those who are able to find strength from whatever faith they posess.  Another comment that Mary made was that farming itself facilitated these self-realizations.  Something about nurturing plants to grow and produce sustenance, working in the dirt, and reaping the fruits of one’s labor is quite therapeutic.  I curiously listened to her tales, and her final message was that she hopes that people (Kenya, apprentices like me, others that work with the farm) learn to trust one’s own intuition.  This discussion with Mary not only gave me much to ponder for the rest of the day, but more of an appreciation for how Mary runs the farm, how the family dynamics are, and what influences Mary’s day-to-day decisions.  

The last thing I did today was to make flower bouquets.  They sell everyday in the shop.  A key point about making bouquets is to not over-think them.  As long as they’re pretty, people will like them.  I walked back and forth through the rows of the flower garden, picking out the different colors of zinnias, blooming dry flowers, and more.  Mary makes sure to put one sunflower in each of her bouquets.  I snip the stems at an angle, pick off the leaves, make sure all of the flowers are visible, and wrap and place them in water.  Sage and I went grocery shopping at Hannaford’s and headed over to the camp that we’re staying at for a week.  We have family friends who own a camp on Great Pond about a mile down the road.  The 2 sons would work on the farm whenever their family went to their camp, and now they allow Mary and the kids to stay there for a week every summer.  This week is a ‘staycation’ for the kids.  Ellie (Grammie) came this evening, having picked up Gilbert from his week at camp.  We ate dinner (kielbasa with sauer kraut, German mustard, and sautéed peppers and corn on the cob) at 9 again.  I had taken the car back to the farm and run there, trying out my foot again since it’s been feeling great recently.  I chose to stay at the farmhouse tonight rather than with Kenya, so I ran on back in the dark.  Although I had a flashlight, I was entranced by my surroundings.  I listened to the soft coo’s of birds above me and gazed at the star-kissed sky.  I pattered down the dirt and paved roads using mostly my peripheral vision, following the pale space ahead of me that was the road, guarded on each side by the tall, black walls that were the pine trees.  After a shower, I’m now all hunkered down and ready for bed.