2016 has passed up by in what I’m
not sure for me can be called anything less than a clusterfuck. Excuse my
French. In the last year I’ve moved three times, started a business, worked
full time (up to 80 hours a week in the summer), perfected a bipedal irrigation
system- never again, travelled, hiked and rediscovered by love of painting and
writing. All this in the shadow of a dismal election; callous abuse of native
peoples; destruction of lives and whole cities; barely a month without some act
of horror be it a bombing or shooting, and gearing up for the year ahead in the
hopes that we as a people can come together for love.
I am tired. This past year has been
long and at times- more than I’d like to admit- it was a challenge just to
trudge through the day of a job I grew to hate for the promise of some sweet
weekend to more often than not was sleep away. I was more tired at the end of
December than I have ever been in my whole life, including my sophomore year of
college when a bout of insomnia gave me little more than three hours a night
for seven months.
It’s hard
to get anything done like that so just before Christmas I quit my job and
decided to dive into farming full time again. Barely a week back into regular
outdoors work and I feel like a normal human. Still can’t watch the news, still
trying to decide how I’m best going to approach the next four years (indefinite
future more likely) from an activist standpoint and still dreaming of all the
plants sitting as dormant seeds.
Farming is
my hearts-work, for lack of a better term. I come home tired, sore, covered in
soil and sweat and I am happy. The world seems manageable again. Political
representatives can be called, donations can be made, communities can come
together, and pen put to paper for nothing else than joy again. Tending for
plants, whether it be a tea-cupped cactus or field of potatoes is grounding
work. It connects us immediately to another being, but also to the network that
crisscrosses our planet; connecting trees, herbs and interacting with humans
and other animal species in ways we don’t yet understand. A relationship with
the planet is crucial I think for creating larger communities, where we
understand the importance of reaching out to lend a helping hand instead of
jerking back in fear.
In this
spirit I am ready to jump into this new year with fervor. Seed orders are
starting, and I’ve begun the process of creating a farm calendar for this year.
I am excited to put together methods from farms I have studied and read about,
so many creative, hard-working people have shared in book form their methods
and I am eternally grateful. This year I intend to adopt what biodynamic habits
I can, and incorporate interplanting and a diverse cast of crops to maximize
output in a way that does not take too much from the soil.
Returning
are my tender green and red heads of lettuce that grew a small following at the
market this year, more radishes and beets, and of course herbs to make salves
and oils. New crops will include dry corn and beans, as well as fresh beans for
hulling, a small selection of Asian bunching greens, edible flowers, and
possibly dried flower bouquets and wreaths. I also plan on expanding my herbal
product line to include bulk dried herbs, serums, tinctures and flower essences.
A
passionate believer in the “work hard, play harder” ethos, I will also be
spending February and March travelling across Europe and visiting family. A
time to relax from a year working too much, and a pre-cation for a year where I
will likely work too much again, but in a much more agreeable fashion.
At some
point after that there may be a dog adoption and a small road trip with my
younger brother and who knows what else. It’s good to keep life spontaneous and
fun.
As there is
much to take care of these next three weeks here I leave you again, although
hopefully for a shorter duration. One of my main goals this year is to share
more frequently in this space, and on the other side of my big adventure I have
a list of possible subjects I’d like to tackle this year.
All the best, Sabrina
"It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings."
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings."
The Real Work, Wendell Berry
