Long days, small towns and days off.

I have been on the farm for two weeks, or about half my allotted time. Enough to make me feel like a veteran for my limited task load, but short enough to make me wish I would have more time here.

The days are long and hard. I find myself losing patience with the workload at the 12 hour mark. Of course, those 12 hours are punctuated with meal breaks. I remind myself that farming doesn't quit. It's a constant. You clean out a pen. And a few hours later, you clean out the same pen again. But somehow, it doesn't get boring to me. A friend told me "sometimes it's good to surface float". I agree. I'm surface floating and liking it. I don't have the capacity to go deep right now. I spent too many years in deep dives. It's time to discover the shallows.

I've had two days off. Both were anticipated with great excitement. On this last day off, I packed it in. I went for a facial at the wellness center of the very small town of Madison, checked out a used bookstore, did my laundry at the local laundromat, had a very southern lunch at a restaurant in Valdosta, GA, where I also managed to see Silver Linings Playbook. In my ordinary life, none of these things would be particularly exciting, or even appreciated. But on my one-day-off-the-farm in foreign territories, these activities were exciting, particularly my activities in Madison.

Wayne and Julia had to me that everyone knows everyone in Madison County (a dry county, BTW). And they weren't kidding. Madison proper is a small town located about 15 minutes from the farm. It has a historic downtown with walkable neighborhoods. Like most small towns, it has a post office. The main street has some businesses, but also like other main streets, it is clearly suffering. The pharmacy and hardware shops both closed down and the few remaining stores don't look particularly prosperous. I could not find a coffee shop.

I was regarded with suspicion and highly noticed. Eyes followed my every move. It wasn't unfriendly, but I could see how it could be easily misinterpreted. The people were more wary than curious. As I snapped a picture of a main street building that is vacant and for sale, I was watched with rapt attention by a man driving a repair truck of some kind. I've been to my share of small towns. This one gets the prize for hyper alertness. The elderly lady in the bookstore almost blocked me from entering her store. I asked her, "Can I look around?" She was, I believe, more taken off balance by the fact that I was a bonafide customer than anything. I bought a book by Jimmy Carter entitled, "Our Endangered Values" and this seemed to relax her a bit. Particularly since the book I carried into the store was called "Everything I want to do is illegal" by the legendary farmer, Joel Salatin. She did ask me about the book, after all, she is clearly devoted to books. I give her credit for that. I explained to her that Joel is an organic farmer from Virginia. I have to admit the cover image with the USDA army tank aimed at him on his farm is a bit disconcerting. But that is Joel Salatin. Definitely an important voice of our times.

The scene in the laundromat was slightly more relaxed. It was not the nicest laundromat in terms of equipment, but the owner was around as was the repairman. People were more jolly and I was looked after. I befriended a young girl of about 3 years old. She went straight for the iPhone, and like other digital natives, was into my archives of videos within seconds. Every goat was a "dog". And chickens were regarded with high disdain.

Which basically sums it up for me as well.