1/1/11

It feels pretty strange, yet sort of noble in a Radical Homemaker kind of way that I am here at the farm alone while my housemates are all out earning their pennies. I keep the fire going, manage the chaos, clean up after the gang, and promise to make a mean dinner when they all return. My freetime is spent doing homesteady things- making soap, learning how to spin, knitting, making a plan for next season's produce and herbs to sell at the Saratoga Market, tending the chickens, and reading lots of periodicals and even a book or two. Last year was full of joyous accomplishments and lots of personal struggle to attain a balance in this very hard profession. After 3 years of farming full-time, I realized that I didn't want to keep growing, I really needed to shrink and specialize. This year is full of promise. Even though I am still doubtful I can earn a living wage, even though I have lost infrastructure rather than gained it, I realize that I am home and we are safe here. Our lifestyle is really paramount to my bank account. Our farm is still young and new. There is so much hope still in my heart, despite all the challenges and struggle.

I've made lots of mistakes and most of them arise from a lack of appropriate action due to exhaustion or not having enough money or hands on deck to prevent them. I have made lots of friends and acquaintances though that keep cheering me on. I have also realized our need for peace, simplicity, quiet and privacy is important to both of us at this time in our lives. My goal is to pick a few of my best crops to sell- lots of herbs, tomatoes, onions, garlic- and to leave the rest of the garden homestead-size. I don't need to grow escarole for anyone else but me and my mom. I really don't like feeling overwhelmed every day of the season. I end up a crazed insomniac. I don't rest. I don't read. I don't have enough time to put up the harvest for our long winter ahead. I don't do yoga, or go out with peers or go hiking or boating or camping. I can't properly be a part of my community that way. So there must be another way. That is for the radical in me to figure out. Ever since I was little and first examining our broken society, I knew there must be another way. So here's to a New Year to find a new way.

Some photos recapping the past few busy holiday weeks:

Chris and Roger with baby Adam.

The Harris "backyard" on our Christmas morning walk. 

The $100 pair of socks I knit Chris for Christmas.

Me in the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Brussels! 

New Year's Day hike. No sunrise, but a glorious tradition anyway.

Free alpaca fleece from my neighbors at Northwind Alpaca Farm. I am getting spinning lessons next week from Chris Eberhardt of Joy of the Journey Farm!

Now get to work Farmer Aaren and stop blabbing.

My New Year's resolution is to listen more and speak less. We'll see how that goes!