I'm shrinking my to-do list down to the bare essentials today: breathe.
Surprising how often I forget there's nothing more important on the list...

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