This post is a collection of random thoughts that I have gathered, now that I am a slightly experienced WWOOFer at Raisin’ Roots Farm.
I shall impart some wisdom to my readers (all five of you) in the form of these 7 memorable phrases inspired by real happenings on the farm. Ready? Okay. And you’re welcome.
1. Never pile more chunks of sandstone onto your wheelbarrow than you can handle.
OR
Never bite off more alpaca steak than you can chew.
2. Not showering for several days does not the Apocalypse bring.
3. Shipping containers can transform into any kind of room, but a porta potty is just a porta potty.
4. If one proclaims to lack experience, it is prudent to expound the meaning. That is to say, whether the deficiency lies in certain things, or in life. (I'm talking about myself lol)
5. When assembling a beehive, practice restraint. Let one man perform the task, while others film from a distance of many paces.
6. Do not question where the Internet comes from; merely embrace it as a thirsty desert wanderer receives drink.
7. A woman’s mind is her best tool, but when a metal rake fails, she must kick poo with her boot.
Now, I will get to the nitty gritty. The hardest part about WWOOFing so far has been, as one might imagine, the physical aspect of it. Each day there is something new to deal with.
As I am naturally not a morning person, waking up early hasn't been the easiest thing. Still, it can have its charms. Wednesday morning I woke up at around 5:30 to the sound of something chewing on a wrapper. I immediately knew it was a mouse – one which my RV roomies had told me about the first night I was here. Turns out I had forgotten about a half-eaten Clif Bar sticking out of my camera bag's mesh pocket, which was right next to my bed. I tried to get a photo of the little guy but he ran off after staring at me like a deer caught in headlights. That has been one of the best ways I've woken up since arriving in Colorado, since he was an adorable little thing, and he woke me up around the time my alarm was going to go off anyway. Waking up because other people have to pee, or because for some reason I can’t breathe through my nostrils when I lay down, hasn’t been as fun.
If it were possible, I would prefer to always be woken up by a baby alpaca smiling at me. However, I don’t want to sleep outside and the RV is already pretty snug. By the way, baby alpacas ALWAYS look like they are smiling.
If it were possible, I would prefer to always be woken up by a baby alpaca smiling at me. However, I don’t want to sleep outside and the RV is already pretty snug. By the way, baby alpacas ALWAYS look like they are smiling.
The farm is not all goofy grins and living, breathing Sherpa blankets, though. Sometimes, there is pain. In your body. Body pain. Mental pain, too, but that is usually caused by the body pain.
The first day I managed to repeatedly hit my shin in the exact same spot. A few times with the handle of a pickaxe, on the edge of a wheelbarrow, etc. I'm not sure why my spatial reasoning is so bad, but this is really nothing new for me. Looking at my legs right now, I can see bruises and random marks everywhere from ankle to thigh. How did they all get there? Did a bunch of garden gnomes sneak into my RV and assault me in my sleep as revenge for digging through their turf? These questions, and more, come up in everyday farm life.
Due to the title of this post being "It Just Got Real" I have decided I will share information about my second day, which was the worst day. I started my morning bright and early by trying to ignore some intense menstrual cramps while using the aforementioned pickaxe to dig heavy pieces of sandstone out of the soil. Dealing with my girl problems was the one thing I was dreading on my way to Colorado.
Rock picking the day before + inadequate sleep + Mother Nature's monthly blessing =
GOOD VIBES a desire to crawl into a hole and emerge 1 week later
As part of the garden team, I often find myself as the only girl working with three other males. Not wanting to promote gender stereotypes, I had to "woman up" and keep quiet about why I was feeling miserable. In the end we were all feeling miserable together (yay team suffering!) because the guys had to pick rocks for a few days before I showed up, and they lifted stones way heavier than I could ever handle. Still, I must say I get a strange satisfaction from finally digging out a hunk of rock that's been embedded into the soil. It's like treasure hunting when I discover a hidden rock and manage to drag it out. At first glance it's a mystery how big it's going to be. Then it's like that "Test Your Strength" game found at carnivals – you know, the one with the hammer – when I find out I can actually lift a rock I thought was too heavy for me.
The third day my sinuses sort of felt like they were on fire, and sweeping composted manure off a dusty path didn't help with that much.
Here is Mr. Boss using a BobCat to move part of a giant manure pile onto a dump truck. Various challenges with equipment have slowed this process, so soil prep has been behind schedule all week. Regardless, people have been powering through each day and maintaining a great attitude.
Actually, the third day was pretty easy and I got to relax while looking through some photos by late afternoon. Through all the little annoyances I have striven to see the natural beauty around me, and I have come to the conclusion that I am successfully living a dream of mine. All I wanted to do was travel, live a different kind of life for a while, photograph new sights, and do a few unexpected things every day. I am enjoying it immensely despite a few body aches and things I can stop complaining about now. :)
I will leave you with some shots of the greenhouse. It is a place I find to be a bit magical.
I bet most germination units are not built in a shipping container at the foot of an old sandstone mine! If you look in the background carefully, you can see lines in the rock where it was drilled for placing dynamite.
Alright, that’s it for now! The only other anecdote which might be worthy of blog mention is that yesterday I heard one of the alpacas got bitten on the face by a rattlesnake, and it is likely to die. I was told if a rattlesnake is ever caught, it shall be cooked and eaten.
I have reached the end of my first week at Raisin' Roots Farm, with two more weeks to go. I’ll be spending weekends back in Fort Collins at my friends' place. I'm excited to see how much progress has been made on the garden plot when I return. It's time to start transferring those seedlings!
Until next time…
Wendy the WWOOFer is out! (Probably passed out, on my friend's really comfy couch.)
No comments:
Post a Comment