Beat up

For the last two days those scouring, in-your-face winds have returned with full force ... and when I went back into the house at about 5 pm yesterday, I discovered the weather dudes were calling for frost, which meant the crops that had survived being whipped about in the wind were now in jeopardy from the cold. Sigh.

Yesterday was a bad day, farming wise.  I've been suffering from a condition called Iliotibial Band Syndrome lately, which is basically a strained ligament.  It can happen for a variety of reasons, but one of the main ones is walking or running on uneven surfaces, which is the exact condition of our hill.  But despite that, I still must dutifully be around down there all the time to check on crops, work on the irrigation system (which, Thank God, is done now) and pull weeds around what we've planted.

So I've been in pain, and as the winds seem to try and knock me off my feet most afternoons, this hasn't helped lessen the stress on that particular ligament.  I usually come back up from the hill cursing the wind, cursing the slope of the hill, and cursing anything else that gets in my way.  Somedays it's just tough to be positive.

So at the end of yesterday, when I got the report for the possibility of frost, it was the proverbial last straw for me. My leg was already yowling from working on the irrigation system and pulling weeds most of the afternoon, and when I heard the report for frost, I knew I'd have to go back down the hill, wrestle with some huge and heavy bags of organic mulch, and gently and carefully cover my potato crop to keep it from being frost-damaged.  And by that time the winds had picked up to gusts of about 40 mph.  I was so angry at the weather and at my own pain that I could have cried.  I almost did.

It was at that moment that Big Ag pulled up in his truck and came out to see how things were going.  And I'll tell you, that second pair of hands was a blessing.  We got the potatoes covered in no time, and the conversation and company we shared while doing it made it a much more pleasurable task.  I love that guy.

And once I got inside, I found that our son Groceries had returned from work and had a copy of "Anchorman," ready to be watched, one of my all-time favorites.  A good dinner, a glass of wine, a funny movie and an evening spent with family was all I needed to feel more optimistic this morning.

I know people who farm by themselves, but I, personally, could never do it.  I'd take on a roommate before going it alone.  Not only because of the physical demands, but also because having one person helping you can turn a painful, grim forced death march into a workday of jokes and giggles to go with any pain involved.

It may not take a village, but in my opinion it does take at least two if you want to farm and remain a sane and rational person.