Northbound, farm bound and Phase II

My Phase I Wwoofing experience was drawing to a close. Moore Farms was my last farm before I started the long haul to Maryland for what I'm now calling, Phase II. Family matters have unexpectedly come up and I feel the need to be near loved ones.

Over the past 3 months, I've learned a lot about chickens and their eggs, ducks, pigs, quail, and goats, including how to milk one. I've learned to make cheese, yogurt, and bread, drive golf carts, ATVs, a tractor and a roto tiller. I've planted and or harvested herbs, lettuce, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, flowers, carrots, and potatoes. I've met strangers that became friends, I've struggled with 12 hour work days, the cold, and very occasional loneliness. My diet has changed dramatically, from one heavy in fatty foods and meat to one lower on the food chain and many fewer lattes and alcoholic beverages. I have never felt more adamant about where my food comes from.

I've learned that I need to live near a town with amenities, that I'm not ready to give up lattes or the Internet, that I can now awaken and get dressed in 50 degree weather, that I want to have a little local honey in my tea every morning, and there is nothing more delicious than well made granola. I've learned that I want to spend more time going to see and hear live music, particularly bluegrass, swim in fresh water, hike, write, and be outside (don't we all??!!). I've learned that simpler is better, but hard to achieve.

And while it is too early to draw conclusions, there are standout observations that suggest a direction for me. At every farm, I lived in community, sharing meals and work, and I found it to be lifting, not difficult, never unpleasant. Communal living doesn't have to mean "commune", connoting as Floyd said, "I do all the work and you take all the money". So, I expect to explore this lifestyle a lot more. As for farming, I've learned that it is really, really hard. Really hard! People have always said that, but it is. And it is fulfilling. At least farming the way farming was done on Wwoofing farms, not factory farming (as brutally described in Michael Pollan's brilliant "Omnivore's Dilemma"). Physically, I wonder if I'm up to farming. I reinjured my arm pretty dramatically and my body seriously aches. The sun bleaches my hair and is making new wrinkles! I have lines around my eyes that I did not before-- even though I wear sunglasses constantly.

To get home, I planned a long trip that entailed a visit to Panama City Beach, Knotty Pine Farm, Asheville, Blacksburg, and West Virginia. Along the way, I paid Homage to FDR's Little White House.

Driving lends itself for reflection time (and listening to crazy talk shows that leave me beyond astonished at what is said on them) and I found myself reflecting on the state of the union, so to speak. Truthfully, I was surprised I did not hear any talk of revolution or political dissent as I traveled. There was an underlying theme that underpinned many of my interactions and that theme was the need for people to be in control of their destiny. There seemed to be general consensus that our food sources are insecure, we cannot escape chemicals, and water supplies will be a huge issue in the not too distant future. Energy and how it is produced was another major concern as was the changing weather patterns. I did not hear people talk about Syria, scandals, terrorism, or Hollywood.

The people I met, like myself, were drawn to farming at least in part, because none of us trust the government (which is "us" Lani always pointed out) to get it right. Rachel Carson wrote "Silent Spring" in 1962! We know that we are poisoning ourselves. We see the evidence in our loved ones in the forms of cancer, depression, neurological disorders, asthma, and suicide.

The short-term decision was clear: keep farming.

So, I pointed my car North so that Phase II of my journey can begin: One farm, all summer on Maryland's eastern shore.