It is my last week here, phew. Almost survived.
Perhaps I am not in the greatest of moods to be blogging, although I mean lets face it- using "blog" as a verb just makes me sad in general. It makes me picture a rich girl with too many shoes traveling Paris who feels like every thought she has is GOLD, or a fat hairy man in his mom's basement drinking orange pop and eating 5 day old pizza who needs to blog to maintain a connection to the outside world...I am neither of these people. I am a sweaty girl, who ate too much popcorn on a farm in Eureka, IL where the holes don't lead to Wonderland but instead lead to bruises.
Farm work is hard. I bet you are thinking to yourself, "Um DUH, are you just figuring this out you silly little 21 yr old you" but yes everyday I discover new intricacies that affirm my belief I will not be an organic farmer, and also strengthen my respect for those that do farm.
SO the other day when it was 10 gillion degrees outside and I had sweat through every fiber of clothes all the way down to my bra straps, we were going to go water the orchard. Although the farm is small, the orchard is in the back and the hose doesn't stretch, so instead we fill up a truck load of buckets and water each tree by hand. Easy enough. I grab the first bucket of water off the truck and use all of my muscles to carry said bucket of what feels like liquid bricks to a very thirsty baby plum tree. After about 2 buckets I am tired, and now my eyelids are dripping with sweat. I grab the third bucket and have to hug it because there is no handle, I waddle quickly over to the tree and as I am hurrying I don't see one of the many holes the dogs have dug and my foot falls in and CRASH, BAM, BOOM, WHOOSH goes the water and kersplat goes my face. Instead of watering the tree I have successfully watered myself, which actually took care of all the sweat and since I merely battered up my leg and didn't break my ankle I am going to call this one a win win. Later looking up at a tree while doing beetle patrol a Japanese devil got to second with me, I'm going to call that one a win lose...
Besides some insect advances, and water mishaps, oh and driving to Evanston Farmer's market at 2am when all the hooligans are driving back from the bars it has been pretty standard here in Ronald Reagan land. Tomorrow we are starting work at 5am to weed in the Aronia field with knives...yeah, before sunrise+lack of sleep+not enough coffee in the world+knife... perhaps I'll be more interesting after tomorrow, hopefully not!
-Potato Salad Wrap