Uncertainty

Nothing pervades farming like uncertainty. Each day the weather determines if its too rainy to plant, too cold for certain crops to grow, or too hot to entice customers to come to a farmers market. There's also little to help predict spikes in the vast array of potential crop diseases, like tomato blight, basil detritus, and sulfur-struck raspberries. Blight recently shrunk our farm's weekly earnings by over $1,000, while another area farmer unexpectedly lost 30% of his peach trees to a similar attack this summer.

Farmers are also vulnerable to uncertainties with their equipment and labor. Our broken tractor recently transformed a swift machine planting into several days of hand-digging. Workers on a leanly-staffed neighboring farm were stuck harvesting well beyond dusk for 3 days to compensate for a farmhand who had twisted his ankle and couldn't work. Another farmer was recently set back when his entire crew left unnanounced at the start of apple season to make 50 cents more per hour at a nearby orchard.

I admire the flexibility farmers seem to exhibit, perhaps as a byproduct of the unpredictability their lifestyle entails. Of late, our farm has required some flexibility from the workers as well. Although Chip & Susan anticipated work for 6 full-time helpers, their cash crop - tomatoes - has been wiped out a month early this year due to the unprecedented blight. With dwindling tasks as a result, each of us was asked to re-evaluate our schedule. Several workers have started helping out on nearby farms a couple days a week. A few of us, myself included, have decided to cut our farm stints short.

I've loved working on the farm. Each day is filled with time outside, physical exercise, and fresh, healthy food. I spend no money (I've only used my wallet twice in 3 weeks) and no time staring at a computer screen. My co-workers are engaging, fun, bright, and adventurous, and I've enjoyed their stories - from hiking the Appalachian Trail to visiting Iran.

Still, choosing to leave early was an easy decision for me. The farm has felt like summer camp, and after my 3-week session here, I feel ready to leave. The mental tally of what I miss about my life in DC has grown - ethnic food, movies, public transportation, people watching, couch time, bike rides, aimless meandering, free events. Most of all, I miss Karen and my friends. After a fun adventure, albeit shorter than I expected, I am excited to be coming home.

My thanks to all who followed my updates, shared their thoughts, or were patient with my sans-laptop slower-than-usual email responses.