Bullshit!

The farm bought a new bull. You must understand the significance of this move because, apparently, buying a new bull is a lot like buying a new car.
Yesterday the proud new owners had to do a few checks, one being taking its temperature. I was the selected wwoofer who got to leave weeding behind to help out Josh with the bull. Now, when I've taken my dogs to the vets they are not fans of getting their temperature taken either and they make these horrible shrieking noises. I guess most creatures are not like my dear friend BDP. Anyways, so, logic follows, shoving a thermometer up a bull's arse seemed to be quite the feat. However, the farmer, no stranger to this situation, carried on like a trooper with quite an amount of class. Only thing is, when the thermometer was in, the bull decided to do a massive bull shit (ziiiing)!
The crazy part of all of this is that the bull then performed a maneuver more akin to anatomical black magic by doing an in-fart which sucked the thermometer inside the dark abyss. And, wearing his floppy straw hat, the farmer embarked on a journey with me just standing, watching in disbelief and holding my nose. Without going into details, the buried treasure was eventually retrieved amid much fanfare.


And this people is another example of why we must always respect our farmers.

Farmer markets are a subculture in itself.

Jason and Joe (fellow wwoofers) worked at markets for their previous farms (Jason worked at a goat farm and had to bring the baby goats to the market with him!) and I think it is fair to call us farmer market snobs. We know a good one when we see one and honestly, we are quite critical and uppity-duppity on the topic. We decided to hitch a ride into the closest town on Saturday morning to check out the market scene on the island. When I came ready to go in jeans and a shirt I was a little offended when the boys said that I should look nicer. So, Jason and Joe picked out the only sort-of nice dress I brought and made me wear it. Little did I know I was 100% being used to hitch the ride into town. People tend to not want to pick up hitchhikers that are in groups or guys. So, the boys hid in the bushes while I had to do all the dirty work and when I'd catch a ride they'd jump out of the bushes and join me in the car.
The market was packed full of cool stuff, crazy food, interesting vendors and of course loads of street performers. I give the market an A+. These guys are pretty awesome, eh?

New Guru. New Peeps.

A retreat started today that has people from all over the world staying on the farm. I listened to laughter in 8 different languages at dinner.

This is the freedom I continue to love...

Re-Do

So, I read my last post and it didn't seem to make much sense so I'll try to re-explain where I am at better. The farm has 130+ acres of land but only uses 6 acres to farm. They are very into treating dirt with respect so there is no machinery used on the farm and. The rest of the land is used for houses and they make most of their profit here through renting out the land and some of its buildings for events like weddings and spiritual retreats. There is a great lake on the property and I spend most of my time there.
There are about 8 families that live on the farm and I hear the word "community" thrown around approximately 20 times a day. One lady owns all the land and houses and everyone who lives on the property has to ask her permission for everything. Like if they can go on vacation, or get a dog, or send their kids to camp. It is strange.

Other Noteworthy Strange Things:
- There is this tea that everyone drinks out of gourds and slurps through these metal straws. I swear it tastes like liquid cigarettes. It's made from some plant in South America and imported directly to the farm. I don't get the same affect from drinking it as everyone else so the farmers have been diagnosing me weird mental illnesses.
- Meditating every night for 45 minutes is the most painful experience I have ever endured.
- Textile is optional on the island. I've never seen so many naked people in my life.
- Veganism has greatly confused my body.
- There was a silent retreat going on last week where no one talked for a week. The guru hasn't spoken a word since 1952 and communicates by clicking his tongue, pointing and writing on a chalkboard.

I made it to the farm by: a boat ride, a truck ride, a tractor ride(!), a van ride - a skinny dip break- a subaru ride and a jeep ride

WARNING: I may not return.

Movin' On

I'm off and ready to start a new adventure. I'm excited to go to switch farms, meet new people and experience the gulf islands for myself. This farm is going to be interesting seeing as they told me to hitch a ride to the farm (both by land and by boat) and BOYTP (bring your own toilet paper). I don't know the whole electricity situation but if they are telling me to supply my own toilet paper I doubt they have wireless internet. Just a thought. So, if you don't hear from me for the next 2 to 3 weeks it is because of either:

1. I got kidnapped
2. I have become a commune girl
3. I am too busy meditating to dirt
4. I have run off with a farmer
5. I have become a harmonica street performer
6. There is no electricy

.... let's all hope for #5

ONE DAY AT A TIME

 

 

 

 

An email from the new farm I am going to next Monday:

Please arrive on our farm with an open mind and hugging spirit. Quiet meditation alone, on one's own timing, amidst the abundant beauty of nature is essential if one wishes to truly appreciate and respect dirt. Since your main duties will be working within the gardens, we are strongly encouraging you to choose a private place to meditate each day. Not only will this help facilitate every soul's quest for spiritual renewal, inner peace, self-realization but you may also get a sense of the power of dirt.

GOAL: do not laugh. do not laugh. do not laugh. do not laugh. do not laugh.

Baggage

I’m coming to the realization that a lot of people decide to wwoof because they have issues. Paul once owned a computer store and claims to have had a few employees but he lost the store and then something else must have happened (like him being struck by lightening) because there is no way he can ever be a functioning member of society again. Bettina was stood up at the altar by some guy who left her to marry some Moroccan. Melanie, who is 34, has never been able to hold down a job for more than 6 months and Jen hasn't talked to her family in years. So ….

What’s my deal? What am I escaping from?

….. Being a 3 Monkeys Waitress.

"What I love about this lifestyle is I don't know if I'll be sleeping in a bed or on the streets tomorrow." - Felix

I spent two days in Victoria visiting Hye-Yeon who is working in a hostel there as a housekeeper. When she got off work she took me on a walk to show me the "best bathrooms" in Victoria which were located in a 5-star hotel's lobby. She hated the outhouse at the lavender farm and told me that when she wants peace she'll walk to this hotel to go to the bathroom. Life is about appreciating the small things, right?!

Victoria never ceases to amaze me. I had awesome hostel-mates, Kevin from Ireland and Felix from Germany. They met at a hostel three months ago and have been traveling together since and apparently aren't going to stop until they spend every last cent. They entertained me the entire night with crazy traveling stories and jokes - it was a much needed break from farm life.

On a sadder note, my vegan farm cancelled on me. But, it's karma because I cancelled on a farm to go to this farm. I sort of deserve it and I'm used to plans not working out so this kind of stuff doesn't stress me out anymore. Also, I am way too excited about an oyster farm I am going to in August that is located on one of the gulf islands where I get to live in a tree house (!!) for 8 days. A tree house! How absolutely amazing is this?!?!

But, currently, I am undergoing a massive farm search so that I won't be homeless come next Monday. Options: an assistant to a spiritual yoga/Buddhist leader, beekeeping, llama cleaning or cow branding. I could work on a vineyard, a garlic farm or one that has a huge veggie gardens. I could live in a tee pee, a camper a school bus or a loft. Ah, decisions...

This lifestyle is cool.

When in Rome...

For the past year I have spent a good portion my time pretending. I pretended to care when I caught students chewing gum or cheating on their homework (I never actually graded that stuff anyways), pretended to know things like the meaning of "day time pee-pee issues" and the word "quaishabomb" without asking for further information (note to self: ask for more details on these). I pretended that I could understand what was said during staff meetings and I pretended that picking up pieces of weaves and fake nails was a normal way to end a work day. I pretended that I knew how to do the stanky leg, the shoot out and the Ricky Bobby. I pretended not to notice incorrect grammar used by fellow English teachers and I finally got to a point where I pretended to overlook words like "dat" and "da" in student work. I pretended it was appropriate for parents to come to meetings with their toddlers in tow wearing bibs that said, "Help! I don't know who my daddy is!" and pretended to have an answer when students asked who was the better man - Barack or Barack Obama.

I figure since I've spent so much time pretending lately I figure I might as keep it up. Thus, my choice to tell my next farm that I am vegan.

Let's see how well I can pull this one off....

I'll take weird over boring any day

Maybe it was the lavender paste Bettina fed me a few days ago. Maybe it was a good night sleep or all the water I've been chugging. I don't really care what it was, but I'm feeling much better! I have a spring to my step, a swagger to my walk. The world is a beautiful place again. In the words of Bettina, "Holy smokes! Thanks God!"

Bettina and I spent the day at the farmers market in Duncan. I don't know if there is some magnetic force that attracts weird people to me or what but everywhere I go, every place I visit, every establishment I enter the weird-os come out of the dark corners and find me. This is only my second time in Duncan but I've already established a little following: Willow, Twinkle Toe (I swear I am not making this up), Pony Rainwater (she's not an Indian - I asked) and Rick. Willow, Twinkle Toe and Pony Rainwater are simple weird-os. They are a bit spacey and have long dreads with lots of beads and sticks stuck in them and they have the longest armpit hair I've ever seen. They are friends and hullahoop their way through the market (literally, they hullahoop and walk - what a talent! But very inconvenient in a crowded space....) and ask me about basic weird things like if I could stick a bud of lavender to their foreheads to radiate peace and harmony... Today they came with a gift for me, "ScarGone" lotion that has 52 uses (it can cure: pink eye, diaper rash, hang-nails, ear infections, curled toes and fungus).

Then there is Rick. Rick is a traveling guitarist. I say traveling because he is on a motorized scooter/wheelchair thingy but every 5 minutes or so he gets up and walks around to smoke a cig. Last week he talked to me about his trip to Mexico (he arrived by space craft) and the other lifetimes that he lived in. He claims to know me because he read about me in a magazine a few weeks ago and he never forgets a face and he knows for certain that we were friends in another galaxy. He also had lots of questions for me like what does the Mason stand for in the Mason-Dixon line, what would happen if you have only a lamp shade and a desk (I said you'd have something to protect your food from flies???) and if he could have my autograph (I signed: Reach for the stars, Rick!!). He did not believe that I was an American because he hates all Americans and I am way too ethnic. So, he informed me that I am 99% African with a splash of something he just can't put his finger on. (Rach and Kyle - flashback: Ming Dynasty....). This week Rick did not disappoint and we covered topics like black holes, ants that are taking over the world, the color yellow, a conspiracy theory dealing with the words their, they're and there (which he pointed out all start with the letters 'the' in case I had a hard time spelling them), he told me lots of lead pencils jokes and, most importantly, I performed my first ever duet:

Do these people have issues? Perhaps. Do they scare a lot of people? Probably. But, I can't stand boring so I'd rather talk to people like this all day long than have some humdrum convo with the average Joe. But, the one thing I need to work on is stop telling people like this my name, where I am from, my birthday and all my other personal information that I so willingly give out.

Due to an old addiction to VH1's Best Week Ever my brain tends to function in Upgrades and Downgrades:

Upgrade: My constant begging was finally answered when I woke up and found a can of black beans on the counter. I can finally get my black bean and tomato fix!

Downgrade: I'm sick and no longer care about my can of black beans.

Upgrade: I went on the 90 minute bike ride to the Laughing Llama in search of medicine.

Downgrade: They only had medicine for livestock. Who knew animals had over the counter meds?! I even asked if I could take any of the cow medicine to help me feel better and got realllllly weird looks. This downgrade should be squared.

Upgrade: I still have Tylenol PM

Downgrade: I only have 3 Tylenol PMs left

Upgrade: I get to get off the farm and go to Duncan for the farmers market on Saturday

Downgrade: I'll be meeting and greeting with the likes of Twinkle Toe, Pony Rainwater, Willow and Rick (more on these characters later - they deserve their own post)

Upgrade: Duncan is a town! There must be a doctor!

Downgrade: It is Saturday - will a place be open?

Upgrade: Dave claims to have been an EMT in the '80s

Downgrade: "Technically" Dave's licenses has "expired." (I use those quotations because he used them when explaining this to me)

Upgrade: He has personally assured me that everything they teach you now is exactly the same as it was back then. Only fools think the medical field is rapidly changing!!

Munstead Harvest

I'm sick and I don't seem to be getting much better. Being sick in the summer is no fun but being sick in the middle of no where makes it a bit worse. But, the harvest must go on and hopefully I can shake this thing off in the next couple of days.

I've had a constant headache for a few days now which makes reading painful so I've been watching a lot of science fiction movies (which I surprisingly really, really, really enjoy. Dave claims that Alien is the only perfect movie ever made. Perfect - that is a word you don't hear farmers use very often... go rent it!) and talking to Bettina. I don't know what it is about strangers, but I confess things to her that are unconfessed in my own mind. Come to think of it, I've had some of my best conversations with strangers. Perhaps it is because they don't know who they are dealing with...

Numba 1

I cannot think of anything that bothers me more than having to stop something I am doing to pee. If I had an option of peeing for 24 straight hours, or however long it is that someone spends peeing in a year, and then not have to go for 364 days I would sign up in a heartbeat.
I typically don’t get scared or freaked out that often, but one thing that gives me the heeeeeby jeeeeeebies is waking up at 2 AM and having to pee. Back in the day when I lived in housing that had running water, this was not a big deal and the main obstacle was not turning on any lights and trying to keep my eyes closed the entire time because I always thought that if I opened my eyes at all then I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. But nowadays I have fallen into a routine when these inconvenient occurrences hit me. First, I whisper (so I won’t wake Bettina) out loud, “Shit!” which is followed by an internal debate on whether or not I can hold it for 6 more hours (the answer is always no). Then, I have to get up, put on my shoes, grab the flashlight and go down the stairs, around the deck, across a shaky mini-foot bridge, follow a little path and open the outhouse door. I am terrified of what I will run into on my walk - a rabided raccoon?! A werewolf?! A bear?! Paul?! I wonder if I should I walk quietly to not disturb anything or run as fast as I can? It always depends on what predator is after me. But, more importantly what weighs on my mind is what will be on the other side of the outhouse when I open the door - a dead body?!?! I would like it if Bettina would let me hold the flashlight and come with me and walk first so that she’d be the one to step on the snake and I would like her open up the door for me and sing happy songs for me as I pee. But, I don’t know her well enough to ask such a thing (…. yet). So, for now I will ban myself from drinking anything past 5 PM because I cannot keep doing this.

Side note: Rachel Wender pees more than anyone I know. Exaggeration is not needed when I say she must go somewhere between 13 - 16 times a day, depending on whether it is a weekday or a weekend. I know this because I lived with her for 4 years and have waited hundreds and hundreds of times on her to go to the bathroom. Rach - I think of you often on my bathroom expeditions. You would be in pure bathroom hell here.

Day Off #2

Today has been wonderful. Originally I was going to go to a rock quarry I discovered yesterday, but I was informed that it had been closed to the public due to vandalism so I decided instead to go to Lake Shawinigan (since I now know how to get there). But, I woke up this morning and it was overcast, chilly and sort of raining so I made a pot of coffee and read instead (Dad and Caroline - Shadow of the Wind …. Excellent recommendation!). Then I bundled up, made the trek to the Laughing Llama and talked to my family and friends which was great. I’ve always been close with my aunt, but one of my favorite things about living in Richmond was the random, surprise coffee dates that I had with Kathy when she would come into town and I feel as if we‘ve gotten a lot closer this past year. She is a big gardener herself and we were talking about the sense of accomplishment and peacefulness that comes with weeding (which I spent close to 8 hours doing yesterday). After talking to her I figured one of the reasons why I’ve been so happy out here and it deals with my new perspective and appreciation for time. Maybe it was being involved in swimming for so long where every little hundredth of a second counted and was constantly and carefully analyzed and thought about that my brain was wired to always go, go, go and constantly figure out what needed to be done to accomplish certain goals (even if it was trying to figure out how to complete 6 in 6...) in order to make new goals that would yield something greater.
But now I’m all alone in gardens and fields with my music and I’ve found myself spending a lot of my time being aware of things. Of the sights of the lavender fields and sounds of the animals, the moods and winds of the weather, but mostly on things remembered. With this lifestyle, I have the opportunity to leisurely think about things without feeling rushed or that I am wasting or losing time. It really is fantastic and I wish everyone had an opportunity to do something like this.
Also, I got a great email from Andrew Massaro that absolutely, 100%, made my day.

AHHH HELLLL-TO-THA-NO...

I will do whatever the farmers ask me to do. I will pluck feathers off of butchered chickens, I'll clear the fields of the jagged wild blackberry bushes, I will comfort Paul when Bettina makes him cry and will chase after Bettina when Paul makes her angry. I'll run off the eagles from the geese and scare away the raccoons from the chicken coop. I'll pull up the really heavy crab pot without any help. I will listen to Dave go on for hours about his obsession with Second Life (he's a night-loving underground elf and despises fairies because he cannot kill them with his sword) and entertain 13-year old Trevor with all the jokes I know until I make him laugh. I'll wake up early, I'll work late and not make one single complaint. I will do anything, anything, anything EXCEPT clean out the outhouse - so Marcia you might as well stop asking me to do it. No way. It is not going to happen. Nope. Not in this lifetime. I'm not gonna do it. No. Way. Jose.

End of Story.

Canada Day!

I had my first day off today and decided to go to Lake Shawnigan which was quite a bike trip. I knew it was going to be about a 2+ hour bike ride trying to find the lake (note to self: never ask Paul for directions again).
When I biked along the scenic country roads, people looked up from their porches to see who was coming up their road. When I was hiking around and stopped to ask for directions, the answers tended to be longer rather than short, people asked where I am from and for how long I have been traveling…
These backroads have a grand scenery that can't compare to any major highway. Although this idea should have been obvious a long time ago, these roads are truly different from the main ones. The whole pace of life and personality of the people who live along them are different. They’re not going anywhere. They’re not too busy to be courteous. Their hereness (is that a word?) and newness of things is something they appreciate. I think the people that moved to the city and only travel by superhighways have forgotten this way of life. This find was quite a discovery.
Anyways, we have a new wwoofer arriving tonight. I’ve asked many questions about her which I hope has not hurt Paul or Bettina’s feelings, but I would like someone FUN to work with. The farm owners don’t remember anything about her except that her name is Hilary and she is from PA. Also, I got paid today which is awesome seeing as in the past two weeks I have not set foot in a classroom. Sweetness all around.