Slow is Smooth...

(I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, but "forgot" to publish it.  Also, pictures don't correspond with writing. Sorry!)  

Certainly, the weather affects everyone.  But as a farmer, it goes beyond just affecting your mood.  It started raining on Tuesday, and is expected to continue, on and off, for (Yikes!) the next two weeks.  When it rains, we can't till, we can't dig, we can't weed.  We can't even walk around in the garden very much.  We're basically paralyzed, work-wise. 

In the Central Valley, winter is usually the rainy season.  Typically, it rains from October through February, and then dries up and doesn't rain at all between April and September.  At the Hurley Farm, this prevents the farmers from fall planting.  The soil is heavy with clay and has a shallow hardpan, which means it is slow to dry out and floods easily.  So a slow winter is expected, with lots of opportunities to cozy up in front of the glow of the computer screen and set up budgets and plans. 

This winter, not surprisingly, has not been typical.  Except for a week of rain in December, it's been dry all the way through.  Hence, Eric and I have gotten ahead in the garden, shaping beds and planting our first successions, planned for early March, in late January.  We've been busy, and I had started to believe that the rain would never come.  But then it did.  And while it comes at a thoroughly inconvenient time, there's nothing we can do about it.  No matter what we'd like to do, we're at the mercy of the rain gods.

A view of the Hurley Farm during brighter times.

So this week I've spent a lot of Q.T. in front of the old MacBook, trying out different coffee shops in town and finally getting through the daunting task of estimating our monthly profits and losses for the season.  Eric has midterms, so he's able to hunker down and study. 

Our first harvest!

With this forced break from busily 'doing' in the garden, some unexpected but important revelations have come up in both of us.  They've manifested themselves in different ways, but ultimately boil down to, “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast," a military saying easily applied to most things in life.  Slowing down means you're more likely not to make mistakes, which makes things smoother and ultimately faster.  Eric and I are eerily similar in certain respects.  We are both impulsive and tend to jump into tasks without fully thinking them through.  This has already resulted in many "learning opportunities.”  This is not a bad thing, as we are learning an enormous amount from our mistakes, and have the amazing opportunity to learn this way through this second year of training.  But it is true that the real stress is just around the corner, with summer harvest season bringing with it more to do than there is time in the day.  Soon we won't have time to spend hours fixing mistakes we could have avoided by slowing down and thinking things through.  

So I spent part of my rainy-day time yesterday adding all of our seeding, sowing, and transplanting dates to our main wall calendar, a no-brainer maybe for those of you planning-oriented folks, but an oversight to yours truly, causing a frantic afternoon and evening of bed shaping yesterday (until 8pm) before the rain started, so that they'll be ready for their scheduled planting (hopefully) during a break from the rain next week. 

I'm so proud of these leafy little greens.

I’ve been trying to take the “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast” mantra to work with me at OneSpeed.  My shifts are often super busy, with more customers to get to than I can reach as quickly as I’d like.  The mistakes I’ve made have been during these busiest shifts, when I failed to take the time to double-check my order pad before sending the order through the computer to the kitchen.  I seem to trust my memory more than I should.  Luckily nothing dire has happened yet, but nothing will change if I don’t change the way I operate, remembering the carpenter’s motto of “Measure twice, cut once” and taking the time to double-check my orders before I send them to the kitchen.  I can only afford to buy the guys in the kitchen so many rounds of drinks for putting up with me :).

The proud, nerdy farmers.

Fortunately, the rain won’t last forever.  The ground will dry up, and all of the “getting ahead” we’ve done this winter will have vanished, replaced by more tasks than we have time to complete.  But hopefully the lesson will stick, and we’ll end up with less time lost to fixing mistakes and more time to revel in the beautiful life we get to tend this year.  

California, I'm coming home.

This is where you will find me for the next eight months, beginning March 1. I'm packing up and moving to California. Sacramento, more specifically, or rather, to this farm right outside of Sacramento. I'll be working as a farm apprentice there for the upcoming season, until the end of October. I'll be living in a tent and getting paid close to nothing, but I couldn't be happier. This adventure combines a number of goals I've had for the past few years:

1) Live on the West Coast;
2) Work for a full season on a farm;
3) Get involved with a project that's improving food access for low-income populations; and
4) Live simply.

I had had two previous interviews for this position before the final phone interview last Tuesday, so the possibility had nestled itself comfortably into my brain as just that: a possibility. I had pretty well decided that it was a long-shot, too, because I was unable to go out and visit for a working interview, as had the other candidates. So it was a bit of a shock when I found out, a few hours after the interview, that I had been offered the position, and then decided soon after to accept. It was a quick transition from "life as usual" to "moving across the country in a month."

So, is farming my Job? I'm not sure. People keep asking me what's next, after the apprenticeship is over. I don't have a clue, which is fine. I'm still getting used to the first next, which will be upon me in just three weeks. If I love this, then perhaps I will continue farming and gardening in some capacity. I don't see myself becoming strictly a commercial farmer, but working with a non-profit, educational farm could be great. Maybe I'll realize that a backyard garden is about as much "farming" as I care to do. I know myself well enough to know that I won't know until I do it, and "next" will remain a question mark for many more months. At the end of the day, this apprenticehip might be a career move, but that's not necessarily the point.

So now, I'm getting organized. I'm gathering and sorting and purchasing things that'll prepare me for eight months on a farm. I feel like I'm going abroad again--I keep having to remind myself that it's okay not to bring everything; I'll be able to buy what I haven't brought once I'm out there. California only seems like a foreign country.

And, I'm trying to prepare psychologically for the change. I've had about the coziest winter of my life this year, doing crafts and cooking daily in my parents' comfortable home, reading classic literature by the fire while watching the snow fall. Though it's hard to imagine exactly what it'll be like, I know for sure that nearly all of these comforts won't be a part of my life come March 1. So the challenge will be to maintain the Zen contentment I've got going on here amidst a much more demanding, more dynamic and hopefully fulfilling, lifestyle. Now, however, I've got to get back to my knitting.

Learning Goals

Last year, as this trip was taking shape, I realized that the central theme--the most important thread that was woven through all the ideas I had--was learning. Above all, I set out to learn about myself; having passed this far into my adult life, I had become acutely aware that I haven’t devoted nearly enough time to that exceptionally important undertaking.

Beyond that, I was, and am, as you know by now, very keen on learning, in essence, “how to do all the things that people have been doing for centuries,” but which most people don’t do for themselves anymore: producing their own food, building their homes, etc. And as the months have passed, I’ve been learning a ton about myself, without even trying, and I’ve found more and more things that I want to learn how to do.

At Rincon del Sur, the opportunities for learning are unavoidable. Since establishing herself and her family here ten or eleven years ago, Cynthia has dedicated each year of her life to studying some subject, with a mentor or in a formal course, that enhances or makes possible her homemade life. The first year, she wisely chose to apprentice with a veterinarian, learning all she needed to know about raising cows and sheep and poultry, etc Since then, she has done year-long studies in cheese making, bread and pastry, beer and liquor, apiculture (beekeeping), gardening and landscape architecture, and weaving, among others. Each day our activities are varied, and often they include one of these subjects, and if any of us express interest in something she knows, she readily offers to teach us.

Which brings me to the situation I find myself in now. Having come back to this lovely little farm in northern Patagonia, with a hostess and teacher whose goal it is to teach what she knows to those who want to learn, I’m feeling overwhelmed by the possibilities, and trying to carve out more of a focused period of study while I’m here. It’s been wonderful to learn a little bit about a lot of things while I’ve been here, but when planning my return to the farm, I knew that I wanted to have a bit more of a focus, either undertaking a project of my own and seeing it through, or dedicating myself to studying one or two things, beyond just a one afternoon introduction.

Little by little, my farm school study is taking shape. Inspired by my friend Darcy’s goal-setting activities, I’ve started making lists of the things I want to do, trying to prioritize and define each study by determining a desired number of sessions or lessons in each before I leave. So far, this is what I’m working on:

1) Breadmaking, 7 sessions: I’ve fallen in love with making bread. There’s something incredibly satisfying about kneading dough that has made me seriously consider enrolling in a professional baking school when I get back to the real world. We are blessed to have homemade bread every day, and each time it comes out of the oven, it’s a little miracle to me. I don’t even eat that much of it, but I could knead dough all day long. Normally, there are four of us partaking in the making process, but yesterday I was able to finagle a solo session, start to finish, and it was heaven. I’m hoping to make that a regular happening.

2) Driving lessons, 5 sessions: While not explicitly a farm activity, learning to drive stick is something I’ve wanted to learn for years, but which was put off due to lack of necessity, especially while living in New York City and essentially not needing to drive for five years. Down here, a car with an automatic gear shift virtually doesn’t exist--Nacho told me that only handicapped people drive them. I feel kind of handicapped, myself, being 27 years old and not knowing how, so Nacho has started giving me lessons. So far, I’ve had two, and it’s going pretty well, considering I have a deserted dirt road to practice on. I’ve set out a goal of five sessions before I leave. More would be great, as I know I’ll need more practice to really feel comfortable with it, but I don‘t want to take advantage of Nacho‘s generosity.

3) Weaving, 5 sessions: Cynthia has this beautiful table loom, on which she makes elaborate table runners, belts, pouches, and wall hangings, seemingly in no time. She’s begun teaching us how to use it, and it’s become another favorite of mine. I’ve rediscovered my love for yarn crafts, in general, and relearned how to crochet the other day, after many fits and starts, and a bit of research, and am trying to get the hang of spinning the wool we’ve spent our rainy afternoons cleaning. Again, weaving sessions are group sessions at this point, but I bought some yarn this weekend to start a project of my own, so I can get some more solo loom time.

In addition to these things, Cynthia wants to set up some hydroponic growing channels, and has enlisted me, with my one summer’s experience in hydroponic growing, to help her do it. We’ve done some research together, and I’m really excited about seeing this project through. Even if I’m gone by the time the lettuce is ready for harvest, I know I’ll get to see the pictures.

One of the difficulties in pursuing these activities here is that there are three or four of us, always, and most often we’re all interested in doing and learning everything. Cynthia already spends six hours a day with us, so I don’t like to take up her time or space during our midday break or in the evenings, although she is always very gracious about letting us stay longer to finish a baking or weaving project, or to use her wireless internet. She’s always very supportive of our own personal goals and interests, though, so I’m sure she’d be willing to work something out.

I’m trying to stay present and put my energy towards these efforts, as much as possible, but at the same time, I’m trying to figure out what’s up next for my adventures, with a tentative departure date from this farm set for mid-March. It’s looking like I’ll head to another farm, either in Argentina, or perhaps Brazil. I’ll be in touch about how that takes shape, and will put up some photos of my projects soon, too.

PS The photo at the top is just-baked "pan de leche" we made the other day in Cynthia's kitchen. Brioche-y goodness with pastry cream on top.