THE FARMER & THE LABORER
We work hard. Both of us. Physical, muscle-pulling, back-aching, invigorating, exhilarating hard work. The kind that makes you sleep well at night. This is farm life. The chores are always there to be done. There is a lot of dirty work involved in keeping the animals clean, fed, safe and comfortable. They are not good at cleaning up after themselves and needless to say, they are all pretty messy.
Farming together, we are a team. Although I am pretty strong, he can do things that I just can’t. I will gladly do things that he doesn’t have the patience for or the desire to do. Sweet talking my critters is my method of management. He likes to make sure they know who’s in charge (in a kind way). He calls me the farmer and refers to himself as the “laborer.“ Yin and yang? https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yin_and_yang
Neither of us was born into a farming family. Although our parents did not farm, we both have grandparents and great grandparents who made their living working the land. I guess it’s in the genes, somewhere.
MY LITTLE FARM…
When I was a little girl we moved to a rural (then) suburb of Boston. The land our house was built upon had been part of an old farm before it was subdivided for a new residential neighborhood. I remember being so excited to hear that and truly thought I lived on a farm. We even had the remnants of an old brick lined well in the back down by the brook that ran through the yard. My wonderful Dad, who spent many summers on this uncle’s farm as a boy, passed on his love for growing things to me. I remember spending Saturday mornings with him planting our small patch of corn, potatoes and of course, tomatoes. I don’t know that we ever got any good corn out of that patch but I can still remember the fabulous taste of those fresh dug “new” potatoes slathered in butter and salted just so. And, what could beat a just picked sun warmed tomato?!
Did I mention we had ducks? I have almost always kept ducks. Big, chubby, comical white Pekin ducks. We raised our children with ducks and now our grandchildren enjoy our ducks, Huey and Daisy. But I digress…
Jim spent his early childhood In the neighboring town. No farming there either, but my mother-in-law had a real green thumb and somehow, despite raising nine rambunctious children, found the time to put in beautiful asparagus and rhubarb beds, as well as gorgeous annual flower beds that lined the long walkway to the house. Most likely she had tomatoes and cucumbers, as well. So there are the genes again.
The Meeting of yin and Yang
Some years later, we two kids from neighboring towns, met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, kind of fell hard, and got hitched. Our first house was a rental In the city of Newton, MA. Soon after settling in to our new home(rental),Jim hand dug a 6’X6’ garden plot so I could plant a kitchen garden. Oops! The landlady was not amused. She said it looked like we buried a dog there and she made us grass it back in. Grumpy.
So here we are. We farm In one of the most beautiful places that I could even imagine. The farmer and the laborer work hand in hand and in a complimentary way. Collaboration is a necessity or it wouldn’t get done, and it works. It works well. I am the yin and he is the yang, or vice versa.
We love what we do and are proud of the way we run things on our farm. Our animals are more than a food source. We respect their lives and are thankful for all they give us. Farming is not easy and the monetary rewards are tenuous at best, but the rewards are immeasurable. The satisfaction of living this lifestyle, breathing the fresh air, being so close to mother earth is as they say, ”priceless”.
