Music Within

I envy people full of validity, full of sureness, and knowledge. Those who are so sure, too stubborn for their own good. Those are the ones I envy, yet those are the ones I detest. An unwillingness to see - to be wrong.

This is me and my inner cynic, full of bitterness and simple exhaustion with down right stubborn people.

Tonight I don't want to sleep. I'm sick of sleeping. I want to enjoy the sunshine. 

I went for a lovely hike today in East Sooke Park (Coppermine Trail). The name of the trail is with good reason, seeing that we hiked by a mine shaft that had been work on from the late nineteenth century up until the nineteen seventies. When we started off, the sky was dreary and the air, wet. Typical. By the time we got to the ocean the skies had begun opening up and I got to take in the pure beauty the sun and ocean getting along for once. I swear people in East Sooke don't know what they're missing by not stepping foot on every single path in that park.

The rain returned though. I can hear it falling on the roof above my head.

Tomorrow, we slaughter the meat birds. And I need to cut back the thorny berry bushes. I should sleep. It's late and I need to be up early. Enough

Goodnight.

Since being in East Sooke:

I've discovered the goodness in original Mickey Mouse cartoons.

I've learned a brief history of the car companies, Studebaker and Packard, and their merger in 1954. Rob is a Studebaker addict, and owns both a Studebaker and Packard. Just today we spent half an hour looking on craigslist, him showing me the cars he dreams of owning.

I've learned about the practicality of the Mercedez-Benz, Unimog, a dual-purpose truck - the truck of all trucks. Drew has a similar addiction to Rob, but his is to Unimogs. The only person in Sooke who owns a Unimog is "Timber Jim" and there are lots of questions as to how he managed to buy it.

I now want to ride the Road of Bones in Russia, knowing that this will most likely never happen, simply because I have no need to go to Magadan (the Russian city where the road ends). The road was built during the Stalin era of the USSR. Over twenty million labour camp inmates died during it's construction. The road is a memorial because the bones of the inmates who died while constructing this road were laid beneath it. Part of the excitement of this road is the river crossings and the necessary four-wheel-drive trucks needed for crossing those rivers.

I've discovered the joy of listening to the radio, and just how great CBC is. On days that I make cheese I listen to CBC Radio One on our broken tape player. It has one volume setting, LOUD. This means I hear the news, and the news gives me headaches, not simply due to it's content.

Now: I'm enjoying the afternoon. Market is over. I'm sitting in the only warm room in the barn, my bedroom. Listening to some wonderful music, burning candles even though I'm not supposed to. The insurance claim on the barn isn't very high, so it would be bad if I burnt it down (who would've thought?).

That's all. Good bye. Thanks for reading Mom.

"Typical West Coast Cold"

That's today.

It's wet. It's cold. It sinks into your bones.

I applied to a couple of jobs for the University of Guelph today. I am going to be very poor upon my return. At the farm having no money is not an issue I need to concern myself with. I get all of my food because I work for it. I don't leave too frequently because I don't have a car and public transit requires lots of sitting time. 

I am making Derby today. Named after a town in England. It's a hard cheese similar to cheddar but has a higher moisture content. Canela is being cute today. She can smell the blood of Georgina's slaughter and is sad, whining in the pasture and chasing after me all morning. The company is nice.

Susan and Vivi have left the farm for the evening. I am house sitting for the night. Really it's an excuse to stay in their cabin, which has a wood stove and a bath tub. Sitting in the barn is cold. I want a bath. Hearing the rain on the steel roof makes me even feel wet.

4:30 - At this time I'll flip the cheese and put fifty pounds on it. Then, a bath, a hot hot hot bath, that makes my skin turn bright red.
I am trying to be happy today.

Home

In just over a month I am coming home - flying from Victoria to Toronto. Do I feel ready just yet? Not at all. Actually I would be quite content finding another farm to call home, remaining by the ocean, and learning more skills. I am going back to try one more semester. I cannot guarantee that I'll finish my degree. But I will try it out, one more time.

Today was a really great day. I had some great conversations with some fascinating people. We successfully slaughtered Georgina, and as per every Monday we had chicken wings and beer.

Satisfaction indeed.

Georgina

Tonight Drew, Susan and I sat in the sun room going over the details about tomorrow. I drank my fruit juice, Susan hers, and Drew his beer. Tomorrow Georgina is being shot and slaughtered.

Acting

Today is Sunday. I get today and tomorrow off. On Monday's I always go into Sooke or Victoria, but Sunday, this day of the week has nothing designated to it.

I was pulling the irrigation hoses out of the gardens today. This is one of the things that has been added to my "to do" list, and in doing so, is part of the "you get money now" agreement. At the farm I am temporary. My purpose is to provide cheap labour. That's the reason I am able to be here. Sometimes it becomes apparent that I am simply fulfilling a need. Once that need is no more, I am no more. Well that creates a lack of investment on both my part, and the other farm dwellers parts.

I was pulling the hoses out of the garden, lining them along the six foot wire fence that keeps deer out of the gardens (rather unsuccessfully). For keeping certain people's business, their business, I'll just say that Grandma and granddaughter were in the garden. Grandma was explaining to granddaughter that sometimes mom's get sad and they need to be alone. It was a beautiful moment. And there I was, simply fulfilling the farm needs - a bystander to the events of people's lives.

I feel like a stage assistant simply watching the actors live their lives here at the farm. I make sure the farm is operating successfully. I do the dishes in the kitchen and I set up for the market. The stage is set and the actors live out their lives, well I sit back and I watch.

That's what it feels like sometimes.

Diversification

I understand that by posting this I am completely fulfilling the hippy, organic, locavore stereotype. I honestly have no interest in following the trend of eating locally. I am interested in eating efficiently though, in ways that can sustain the most amount of people. I have no interest in conventional farming. I don't think Harvest for Hunger's attempt to break the world record for the fastest way to harvest 160 acres of soybeans (click on link) at a farm near Monkton, Ontario earlier this month, is a solution to hunger. The intention is there, but by no means are mass production farms feasible solutions to food security issues.


Here are a couple of videos discussing urban farming, and unconventional agricultural practices. 

I saw Will Allen at a talk in Port Townsend. He was named one of Time's 100 Most Influential People in 2010. Press here for the link.

GH_Peek in Progress from The Greenhorns on Vimeo.

This is the first episode of The Greenhorns documentary.

Ledar Road

Body full with energy
Running with termites
Their red wings flying
My red heart pounding

At the top - the end
Rocks thrown, arms swung
Blood racing, legs pacing
At Ledar road

Full moon frustrations
Running with termites
Barreling down Park Heights
The real life narrow path


Today I ran the Victoria half-marathon. Immediately after the race was run I was struck with food poisoning from a rather skeptical breakfast yesterday. I ran this race faster than my last race, in a much less race-ready condition.

The poem is something I wrote on September twelfth. There are lines left out, because I will simply not expose my complete self to all you folk.

Tonight I am going to Josie's house for Thanksgiving dinner. I may not have a biological family to celebrate the season of harvest with, but I have the Ragley Farm community - a very true to life family.

Vancouver was lovely, and quick, and full of public transportation. I'm considering buying a vehicle. In all seriousness.

Tomorrow I will sleep, read, and enjoy fall on the farm, eventually making my way to Miranda's for another Thanksgiving dinner. She is a lovely lady, and keeps me company while picking lettuce Friday mornings, and keeping watch of the market on Saturday mornings.

Now, I rest. Because soon, I eat.

Van city.

Tomorrow I once again leave my tiny farm world. I am going to Vancouver for the night - going to a concert with a friend, and staying at a hostel.

Today I woke up in a horribly rotten mood. I bet I had quite the scowl on my face as I planted clover in the pasture. Pitching stinky sawdust and manure out of the barn with loud music blaring in my ears (eventually leading to deafness I'm sure) made me feel a little better.

What really did it was a jog to the ocean. I felt drastically more content with my current situation after seeing the beautiful ocean view. If you scroll down and look at the map of East Sooke Park and find Pike Point - well that's where I was. Murray and I jogged down to the ocean - right down to the ocean. Oh it felt good. We stood at the tip of the black rocks and watched waves come crashing in. The sun was low in the sky, and the sky was dark with clouds so the sun was bright and orange. A massive sea lion surfaced within meters of where we were standing. Murray said it was probably around nine hundred pounds. He's a sea man so he would know.

For dinner I ate greens from the gardens, red peppers from the greenhouse, feta made on the farm and salmon caught in the ocean this afternoon.

Tomorrow I leave right after lunch - I worked extra late today so I could leave early tomorrow. And tomorrow - I get paid - money! Not food, or accommodations - money! I'm going to go to Vancouver and I'm going to be nice and responsible and spend it.

Today I missed home so incredibly much. I miss my friends. I miss the comfort of having people know me, and understand my stupid idiosyncrasies. I miss the safety.

At the same time I am terrified of returning to Ontario, going back to school, and not being able to work in the gardens and talk to the cows on a daily basis.

We'll see.

I still have to go to Portland, and up island. These things will be done.

Till then - Vancouver it is.

AHHH

gahhhh

Expectation

I cannot imagine what sitting in a library for hours feels like - and for that matter, how I did it. On days off I need to jog simply to rid myself of all my excess energy.

People keep telling me, "You're living the dream". What interesting dreams people have. Why does it have to be a dream for that matter? What holds people back from escaping the norms and expectations society places on us? Fear? Lack of knowledge?

I went to a potluck this evening. Lots of people retire in East Sooke. There were only three people under the age of thirty there. Large groups make me feel uncomfortable. I ended up talking to an elderly man about his experience working on a tobacco farm when he was a youth. He told me he'd drop by the market to continue our conversation. I also talked to one of the other "under thirties". He works at the bike store in Sooke and is going to give me a bicycle. I currently have no mode of transportation except bus route sixty four and kind neighbours.

I cannot seem to sleep the last couple of nights. Whether it is restlessness, loneliness, excess energy, exhaustion, or frustration, I don't know. When I lie down at night my brain will not turn off.

I spent three hours making cards last night and it felt really nice. My bedroom is the only place in this barn that I feel at home in. Communal living is often times invasive. That's life.

One of the cheeses I made this week was supposed to be provolone. I didn't read the recipe properly so I didn't dilute the lipase. I also forgot about the cheese while making it. Needless to say, it wasn't provolone, but it was the first cheese to sell out at market. I like that.

I am scared about returning to Guelph. I do not want to fall into the same cycle. I do not want to cram my days: work, school, campus ministries events, the gym, group meetings, house responsibilities, coffee dates, volunteering, hours in the library. I expect too much of myself. Why is the thought of having a seventy average so horrible? Why do I think I need to be a leader in campus ministries? Why is simply investing in Friendship Club, a few close friends, school, a part-time job and church not enough? Why do we place so many demands on ourselves? Why are we so uncomfortable not being busy?

I live here. I work here. I rest here. I volunteer on Mondays. I rest on Sundays.  I've learned to enjoy music more. I enjoy laughter more. I enjoy running more. I enjoy looking at the sky more. I am thankful for my hands. I am thankful for my food. I am thankful for sunshine and for rain. I am thankful for wool and for rain boots.

But mostly, right now, I'm thankful for freedom.