Wednesday sent me back to the clarkia tarp to stomp out any pent up aggression. It also sent me out into the fields to harvest some primrose, which just may be the most poetic flower in existence: it only blooms in the evening and lives for a day. Surely, some introspective poet has chronicled the romantic and swift passing of the primrose, so we’ll let Wednesday’s activities be and rewind to Tuesday.
On Tuesday, I mixed it up.
I know! It’s been so long since a Mixing it Up post. But people: my life right now is basically the inside of a Kitchen Aid mixer mid-recipe, so I figured I could label the next 3 months as Mixing it Up and not give any particular effort to seeking out further opportunities to introduce even more change. At that point the inside of my head would start looking like the inside of a Kitchen Aid mixer.
Nonetheless, that’s kind of what happened on Tuesday. I was asked if I wanted to work at another local farm for the day just to switch things up a bit. I said something close to consent, so off I went to Sophie’s Orchard.
I actually was really excited to go to Sophie’s because I love orchards (which should come as a great surprise, given the name of this blog) and I was eager for a new and different day of work.
Me and change getting along?
It’s like I’m a whole new person.
Until I’m not. And that time came when the gracious and sweet owner of Sophie’s offered to take me inside so I could “meet all of the other WWOOFers.” (WWOOFers, for all of you who are befuddled and wondering if the orchard is actually a kennel, is an acronym for Worldwide Workers On Organic Farms, which is the organization I went through to set up a few of my stops.)
Hold the phone. Other WWOOFers?
This was disconcerting to me for two reasons: 1. I wasn’t expecting other WWOOFers. 2. I tend to be a smidgen on the socially awkward side in groups, and a smidgen more so in groups that I don’t know. I’m hoping that this trip helps me break out of this a bit, but I did not have high expectations for my social caterpillar to suddenly blossom into a butterfly after twenty some years in the cocoon. Maybe by 30.
But inside I went. On the way, I met Martin, whom I would end up working with all day. In the kitchen was Kristen, who never stopped smiling or moving the entire time I was inside. So far, so good.
Martin and I headed outside for Parsley 101, in which I learned how to cut and bunch parsley for an outgoing order.
We also harvested some cherry tomatoes, hauled in boxes of apples, watched an indigo dying class, and met these guys:
(This turkey is blind, and every time I looked at him I pictured an old woman grumbling about her husband and calling him a blind old turkey. I don’t know why I felt the need to tell you that, but I did.)
Turns out Kristen was heading off to her next location so she left pretty early in the day. Also turns out that Martin is a really cool person. And all of that turning means that I can turn right back around from my initial moment of trepidation because, like always, there was nothing to fear. I really enjoyed working with another WWOOFer and hearing stories and experiences and reasons behind the trip. It ended up being a great day, a timely dose of camaraderie, and I ended up remembering to tell the freak side of my brain to simmer down. A message I will be sending continuously throughout the rest of this (amazing) trip.