Order & Chaos

“It turns out that an eerie type of chaos can lurk just behind a facade of order - and yet, deep inside the chaos lurks an even eerier type of order”-Douglas Hostadter

We had to get the sheep back in because it was supposed to be cold and rainy for the next 4 days. The only problem was that Jen was supposed to be leaving for Brad's band concert and it is really a 2 person job. Getting the ewes in isn't a problem, they know what to do. But the little lambs are a different story altogether. They run away, down the manure pile and into the pasture, and you have to come at them from both sides to even have any hope of getting them in the door. And sometimes this is not enough and they slip through your fingers, right back down the manure pile and right back to where you started. Before we were able to get them all in Jen decided that she really had to leave so that Brad wouldn't be late. We would have to get them in after she got back. Jen and Brad left and I walked into the barn feeling a little defeated, despite it not really being my fault that we couldn't get the lambs in quickly enough. The barn was complete chaos. The ewes and their babies screaming many notches above their usual din, trying to find each other, the ones they belong to. I finished feeding the rest of the animals and then went up to the farmhouse to take a shower. Twenty minutes later, I walked downstairs and saw that the van was back, Jen in the barn for sure, trying to get the little lammies in. I put on my coat and walked to the barn. When I made it to the bottom of the stairs I saw Jen standing at the grain bin, hitting it with a crowbar, trying to get the grain to spill out into the barrel. Her face, hair, and clothes were chalk white, covered in grain soot. The grain bin was malfunctioning and we had been attempting to fix it for the past few days. I guess when life hands you lemons it's nice to have a grain bin to bang on. She smiled and yelled that I should go upstairs so that I didn't get dirty. She was yelling because the sheep were still in chaos mode, screaming uncontrollably. I felt bad, wishing there was something I could do, but I had just showered, and there was nothing I could've done anyways.

Jen missed Brad's concert, had him sing the songs to her while she drove him to the school.

That was Thursday night. On Tuesday night I went with Jen, Kyle, and Brad to see a movie premiere at the Marsh-Billings-Rockefeller National Historical Park in Woodstock, VT. The movie was about the incredible, groundbreaking work going on at the park. The woodland is the first in the country to be sustainably managed and received the Forest Stewardship Council certification from the Rainforest Alliance, making it the first national park and only the second U.S. federal land to receive such certification. Also noteworthy about the park is that they are regularly bringing school children in for outdoor educational experiences. They learn about the history of the park and of conservation, they take tree cores to figure out how old the trees are, look at larvae under microscopes and much, much more. I've always believed that this sort of education is important but working on the farm has definitely reinforced that. I spend my days digging in the soil, constantly coming across really fascinating worms, bugs, and slugs. I feed the animals, watch them grow bigger everyday, and sometimes see them die and buried in the ground. Just today the cows were brought outside for the first time since last fall. It was quite a sight to behold! The minute the cows ran outside into the sun they began to run and jump and play and carry on in utter and complete excitement and joy! They had not seen light in 5 months, hadn't been able to move more than a few inches, hadn't been able to scratch themselves or clean their behinds. And now here they were, free from bondage, able to do what they do naturally. I have seen a chicken sense the presence of a hawk and go into panic mode. I have seen crops turn yellow and have learned that can mean a number of different things..it needs more water, more nitrogen, or it has gotten burned by the sun. I didn't understand propagation until I saw it happening in nature. A plant shooting out into the soil in a few different spots and breaking off to become new plants. Mostly, when you spend every day outside, you learn to pay attention to things that you wouldn't normally notice. You notice the leaves getting bigger everyday instead of wondering how they got there when they're already fully grown. You discover new creatures everyday. You see the stars. Watch the cycle of the moon. You see the wild leeks, or ramps, food growing unassisted in nature, you harvest them, sell them, cook them, and eat them. You realize that nature is chaos but that there must be some hidden design plan holding it all together. And just when you think you might have it mastered, there are many more surprises just around the corner. Animals and plants, just like humans are breathtakingly resilient. They want to survive. They have so many built-in mechanisms that have been evolving and perfecting over millions of years. And to think that humans could bring it all to a crashing halt is so ludicrous, it becomes harder for me to believe every single day. But the reality says that we can't bring order to the chaos and that the chaos really is order, if we could only see the order in all the chaos. We aren't looking hard enough and most of us don't take the time to look or aren't even given the opportunity.

I am so blessed to have this opportunity to work on this one small farm in this one small town in tiny Vermont. But there are so many people and especially children that have never left the city, never seen all things I try not to take for granted, and they have no clue where their food comes from. We, as a society, are denying ourselves so many pleasures. Someone told me the other day that digging in the soil increases serotonin levels. And yet, our kids spend their days learning science indoors. The facts have no meaning when they are empty words on the page, when you can't see it happening right in front of you. I think there is hope, I have never felt so optimistic. I think if everyone spent more time outside, exploring the wonders of nature, forming a connection with the very thing that sustains us, we would be able to make incredible things happens. The potential is there. So...

"Come and find me. Let's go exploring. There is so much to see and enjoy. I challenge you. Stop watching this, turn off your computer, and go outside. I'll meet you out there."

But before you do, vote for Jenny O'Connell for the Best Internship on Earth: http://www.sierraclub.org/bestinternship/finalists/finalist11.aspx#comments

Life Unexpected

“A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes”-Mark Twain

Farming is and isn't what I thought it would be.

Anna, the apprentice that started about 2 weeks after me, is leaving the farm because she realized that this was not the experience she was looking for. Jen and Kyle have jobs off the farm so they don't spend their days in the field with the apprentices. Basically Jen (and occasionally Kyle) tells us what to do and shows us how to do it and then leaves us to figure it out by ourselves. I sort of expected that since I knew beforehand that they had jobs other than farming but I didn't realize how much responsibility I would have as an apprentice. It's pretty empowering. No one has given me this much freedom in a job situation to make mistakes without wanting to butt in and tell me how to do it right. Because Jen gave me this opportunity from the get-go and didn't make it seem intimidating or like it would matter if something went wrong, I just sort of went with it, and didn't really think about what was happening until Anna sat us down and told us the issues she was having with the farm. She felt like she wasn't learning as much without an experienced farmer working next to her all day and when I really started to think about it I was surprised how little it bothered me. I want to learn how to farm. And sometimes I am overeager. But for some reason right now I feel ok, like I will learn it all in time. It's not something you can learn all at once, I think. It takes so long and learning from your mistakes, while frustrating at times, can actually be a lot more rewarding in the end. I haven't made any big mistakes yet, but I'm sure it will come. Jen, Kyle, and Brad are going to Cape Cod for 4 days and I am going to be farm-sitting. 4 weeks of farm experience and I am allowed to run the farm unsupervised for 4 days???? Seriously?? But it's not intimidating because they trust me and therefore I trust myself. I think it will be great. A really really good learning experience and if something goes wrong I will figure it out. I doubt that anything will go wrong. But if it does it will be fine.

Before I came here all I wanted to do was learn how to grow vegetables. And it turns out that I have fallen in love with the animals and if I ever own a farm there will be lots (of animals). Interacting with the animals, whether it is shoveling their shit or feeding them is instant gratification. They are very thankful. They are so perceptive, playful, and lovable. Taking care of the animals and taking care of the plants are both things that require a lot of hard work. But with the plants there is no instant gratification. You have to wait months to harvest what you planted, weeded, watered, and watched grow slowly, slowly. With animals there is always an instant reaction. And it is heartwarming. Warm and fuzzy. Not to mention that manure is the best fertilizer for crops and when you have plants and animals you have a full circle, which just makes sense logically and scientifically. Bottom-Line-I love veggies, but animals are essential.

There is so much more to say, but be patient. I promise to tell it all eventually :)

Compost

"Compost is my religion."-Anonymous

I think death is one of the hardest things for humans to process. And when we're faced with it we don't know what to do. In general I've been lucky and spent my younger years ignorant to what it's like to know someone that dies. But 2.5 years ago, a really close family friend (my parents' best friend) drowned on vacation in Puerto Rico. And then about a month ago my next door neighbor's son, his wife, and 2 baby children died in a plane crash in Belize. Rick, my parent's best friend, was one of the best. Always there to give advice or lend a hand, the kind of guy that would literally give you the shirt off his back. I didn't really know my next-door neighbor, but I've heard really good things. He and his wife taught English at a small school in Belize and raised money to give these kids the things that we here in the US of A take for granted. They were idealistic, fighting the good fight, doing their best with what they had.

Last year when I was in Israel, I lived with Israelis and Palestinians while their people were fighting a war against each other. It was one of the most horrible, horrific experiences of my life. People with more similarities than differences killing each other because they thought (and by and large still think) that it is their only option, that there is no possibility of a logical solution. That there is only hope in death.

And now I am living on a farm surrounded by the new life that accompanies the first weeks of spring. The birth of baby lambs, newborn chicks that arrive by mail (!!!), baby ducklings, hens and geese sitting on fertilized eggs, wild leeks that grow taller every day, beans and peas sprouting in the hoophouse, lettuce, eggplants, and peppers in the greenhouse, and greens galore that survived the winter, warm under the blanket of snow covering the fields. Of course there is death too. The death of baby lambs that weren't strong enough to survive. The death of chicks trampled by their bigger siblings. Death of a skunk, shot by Jen so that it wouldn't kill her chickens. And the death of a pheasant taken in by the local animal hospital, that just didn't make it.

Life and death are all around us. We try not to pay attention unless it's one of our own, but it's always there, and at some point in our lives we are forced to think about it. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and here's what I've come up with. Of course I don't expect you to agree or disagree with me, but I hope you will give my words a chance. It's been a long time since I've believed in heaven or hell. When somebody close to us dies, it makes us feel good to believe that somewhere out there, over the rainbows, our loved ones are eating tons of ice cream, being let in on the secrets of this world, and spending time with those we lost before them. But really, what are the chances? More likely, and in fact truthfully, when any living thing dies it becomes compost, nutrients that are given back to the earth to nourish the growth of new life forms that are constantly being born. And so there it is. Back into the earth we go, black, white, Palestinian and Israeli alike, lamb, spider, and skunk too, and our bodies become the building blocks of new living things. I believe that we have spirits (souls), and that they as well become part of new life. It is a continuous cycle and the great part about it is that little pieces of us remain alive in the bodies and souls of those that come after us. We are eternal. And maybe death isn't so scary.

It's still hard for me to process all the senseless killing that goes on in this world, and I don't really ever think that I will understand it. From cutting down trees, to killing spiders in our kitchens, to genocides and holocausts, it just doesn't really make any sense. At what point did we decide that fighting for (or just enjoying) our own lives could be in killing others? I have no answers.

And it's hard for me to just enjoy the life around me and the life inside of me while stil thinking about all this death, but I am. I am processing it slowly. But one thing, I think I can truly believe in is compost. It is the most beautiful bridge between life and death.

Lessons on the Farm

"Cat, I'll let you in on a little secret. Doing something you have a passion for doesn't make the work part any easier. It just makes you less likely to quit."-The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs

"My whole life has been spent waiting for an epiphany, a manifestation of God's presence, the kind of transcendent, magical experience that let's you see your place in the big picture. And that is what I had with my first compost heap."-Bette Midler

What I have learned on the farm so far:

1. You must be willing to touch shit. Cow shit, pig shit, chicken shit, sheep shit...all kinds of shit. If you are afraid of getting shit on yourself, you will not make it on the farm. At the end of most days I am covered in shit and smell like shit. My clothes smell like shit. My car smells like shit. My hair smells like shit. You must like the smell of shit.

2. Shit is heavy. Especially when wet.

3. You will fall down. Literally. Probably while carrying shit. If you're lucky it won't fall on your face. I've been lucky. Last week Jenn, the two apprentices from last year that were visiting, and I cleaned out a year's worth of shit and hay from one of the sheep pens. The shit and hay was matted down and caked together. We spent about 6-8 hours over 2 days pitchforking it out. When a wheelbarrow was full to the brim with shit and hay we had to lug it out to the manure pile. The first day, it rained. The wheelbarrow slipped and slid down the ramp that first time I brought it out. I fell 3 times and didn't realize until later that I had ripped my pants all the way down the back. Since then I have fallen many more times while wheeling the wheelbarrow down to the manure pile. Some during a rain storm and some on a sun-shining day. But my muscles are growing....which brings me to my next point.

4. You will realize that you have more strength, energy, endurance, confidence, and capabilities then you ever thought possible. Farm work is hard. The days are long. You never get everything done that you plan to do in a day. But you do a lot. And if you're like me that is a significant change from your normal life. By lunchtime I am tired. By 3:30 I am exhausted. And when it comes time to do chores at 5, I would rather do anything in the world than throw down bales of hay, gather grain, and fill up buckets of water to feed the animals. Of course there is no choice but to do it, so I do it. And it gets done. And I survive. And the sense of accomplishment is pretty darn sweet.

5. Animals are smarter than we (or at least I) think (thought) they are (were). I mentioned the bottle-feed lambs and Squirt specifically in my last blog. I think I mentioned that he recognizes his name. When you come to feed him and call out his name he will come to you. When you feed him he wags his tail. Two days ago the sheep were in a huge pen outside, about 500 ft from the farmhouse. In the morning when Jenn woke up and walked outside Squirt was standing at the door to the house. That means that Squirt found a way to escape from the pen, figured out how to get to the farmhouse (he had been taken there only once before-weeks ago) and that that is where he could find the people that could feed him. The next day, the sheep were in a pen inside. When Anna, the new apprentice and I, went to go clean the chick brooder, I could hear a lamb screaming but couldn't see it at first. I went into panic mode thinking there was a lamb in the chick brooder. When I pulled back the cover on the chick brooder, there was Squirt wedged between the chick brooder and the wall. Apparently he was hungry and was trying to find a way to get out to come find us to feed him. Clearly Squirt's brain is larger than the size of a pea and there is something significant going on in there. I don't think that Squirt is smarter than most sheep. I think he just has a tougher life than most sheep on Fat Rooster Farm. He is the only sheep so far this season whose mother completely rejected him, therefore his only source of food has been humans. So, while most baby lambs have had their source of food (their mothers) close to them from birth, Squirt has had to struggle to figure out how to eat when he is hungry and there is nobody around to feed him. He is constantly in survival mode and that forces him to do things that sheep don't normally do, but are probably capable of doing (i.e. recognizing their name, finding their food source, even if it isn't close by, readily available, or obvious as to what it is). Pretty, pretty cool!

6. Six is compost. You'll have to stay tuned for that one because I am falling asleep...which brings me to rule number seven.

7. Sleep is precious. You will never get enough of it.

Welcome to Fat Rooster Farm

"Where I lived and what I lived For."-Thoreau

I now live on a dirt road in the middle of Vermont in the attic of one of the most eccentric houses I've ever been in. The only heat is from wood-burning stoves. There is no refrigerator. The house looks like 3 houses that just happen to be fit together. This is not the farm. The farm is about a mile down the road. Getting there in my car during mud season has been somewhat of a dangerous venture. My car swerves during the day and only calms down at night and in the early morning when the ground is frozen.

I don't think I have adjusted to the schedule yet. The first night I was here I could not fall asleep and then woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep. I got up at 6am and drove over to the farm. Newborn lambs needed to be fed. Shannon, an apprentice from last year taught me how. It's lambing season and since I have been here lambs have been born almost everyday. We bottle-feed lambs that have either been rejected by their mother or ones for which their mother does not have enough milk to feed all of her babies. I have taken a particular liking to the one named squirt and that I renamed squirt alert. When you feed him his tail wags vigorously. He can barely concentrate on feeding and stops sucking on the bottle every 30 seconds. His mother completely rejected him so he thinks whoever is feeding him is his mother. He now looks up when you call his name which is quite endearing. He runs to you everytime he sees you have come with a warm bottle full of lamb formula. Then there are the triplets. Their mother doesn't have enough milk for all 3 so we have been supplementing it with formula. 2 of the lambs didn't looks so good so we brought them up to the house to lay in front of the fire. Yesterday one died. He was sick and there was nothing we could do to help him. The other one still sitting by the fire is most likely going to die. He is a week old or so and can't walk and shudders constantly. The ewe that gave birth to the triplets will be slaughtered this summer because apparently this is the second year in a row that she has given birth to runts that didn't make it. I love the sheep. I love feeding them. I love watching them. The 2 week old babies run and jump and play. I love squirt. I wish he wasn't a male.

On Thursday we planted beans, peas, carrots, radishes, onions, and lettuce in the hoop house. We used a seeder which basically has a different attachment for different sized seeds and knows how far apart to space each type. When you push it digs a hole, plants the seed and covers it up. It's a pretty neat little contraption. Things learned: peas don't like onions and won't produce fruits if planted near onions. Carrots and radishes can be planted in the same row. By the time the carrots are ready the radishes will have been long since harvested.

Other activities have included cleaning animal pens, watching 2 pigs get slaughtered, and chores-feeding the animals twice a day. So much has happened and I have only been here for 4.5 days. It's crazy to think that I was sitting at home doing next to nothing less than a week ago and now here I am an apprentice on a small but diversified farm. I'm looking forward to having sore muscles every night, being exhausted, going to sleep early and waking up early. The farm is beautiful, still covered by a thin layer of snow. Today it rained and fog hung low in the air. For the first time in my life I am surrounded by animals and they are so full of love. The animals are helping me adjust to the farm, showing affection and keeping loneliness at bay while I get to know the farm family and before the apprentices I will be working with get here.

This feels right. What I was hoping for. There is so much to learn so many new experiences yet to be had. Spring cannot come soon enough.