The Drought Has Affected Our Post Crop

We're now deep into the last half of our time at the farm, time that has given us authority on the bigger picture. 

So, just what the hell are we doing here?

On paper, we're working on a small scale (unofficially) organic farm, 5.5 days a week, 10-12 hours a day, for 6 months solid. In exchange we get room and board, a stipend of $200 a month, and a ground-up education in the farming business.

However, it's taken a bit longer to figure out what we are actually trying to do here.

We're here to learn how to do things ourselves. We're here to purge accumulated guilts through hard physical work. To watch that hard physical work turn into a quantifiable product that you hold in your hand and bite into. To feel what it's like to fuck up when you can't talk your way out of it. To see if we can find a way of living that isn't hostile to someone else's.

So I can learn enough handiman-ship to at least build a goddamn spice rack. I once hammered a wood screw into someone's wall (using my "Tools for Dummies" hammer no less), so this is a big deal.

If I look closer I can see some hippie pamphlet slogans too: "getting in touch with food", and "reconnecting with life and death".

I don't know about Em, but I think I've succeeded on some points, failed only two, and simply thickened the plot of most. Bubbles have been burst, perspectives shifted, and The Good is found where I did not expect it to be.

And it's not over.

I'll be updating at least once a week from here on, now that the weeds are clear.

I promise it won't boil down to "my job is so interesting because ______". The food is excellent, the recipes even better, but 75% of the time we just hack at the earth with clubs and knives, so the act of farming is especially uninteresting to hear or read about. 

It's the bigger picture stuff that counts. The context.

It's actually about taking pictures of animals though.