One month in.

It has been over a month since I first donned my now-ubiquitous Muck boots and began the long, arduous, and sometimes painful process of learning what it takes to be an organic farmer. It’s been tough for me to buckle down and write a blog entry for several reasons. Firstly, the days have been long as we scramble to complete our big spring planting (onions, lots of onions!) before the weather changes, and I find it increasingly difficult to muster up enough energy to do much of anything after an exhausting day out in the fields. Secondly, there’s just so much I could write about that it sometimes feels like a daunting task for me to have to sum up so many events in a concise and interesting weekly update; and also, judging by my family’s/friends’ lack of reaction to my nightly phone calls about what I did at work that day, I find that not everyone gets as excited about tomato pruning or pea trellising as I do.

Mostly, I find it hard to express to you, my dear readers, what I am going through, although I sincerely ache with all my heart to put into tangible form the moments of bliss and contentment I have experienced over the past month. As with anyone, there are discouraging days where I feel like a bumbling fish out of water and long for the familiar and comfortable (and, maybe, to not be covered in dirt for just ONE day), but most days I find myself thanking God in spontaneous moments for finally granting me peace. I sometimes make myself stop and consciously feel and take note of what it’s like to be alive right now - completely without stress, unwanted drama, and, most importantly, without that suffocating uneasiness you feel when you know you are living the wrong life.

And, let me tell you, it feels pretty damn good.

Let me point out that this in no way means that farming is not stressful, nor does it mean that I have decided to become a farmer.

The pending issue of what to do when the season is over in November is a favorite conversation topic amongst us interns and we come of up with new ideas regularly. Some of us (i.e. Eric) have pretty much made up their minds to start their own farms and already decided on what sort of tractor they plan to buy; albeit, Tom never forgets to remind us that the worst is yet to come and you can’t decide to be a farmer until you have survived August (generally, the breaking point for any farmer) and made it to the end of the season. At this point, I am certain that (1) I would like to continue working in the sustainable food industry, a decision that was reaffirmed upon attending the amazing and incredibly informative Brooklyn Food Conference last weekend in NYC, (2) I hate desk jobs, and (3) I really enjoy growing things. I have about five different ideas I’m playing with at the moment and I’m sure these will all evolve through the course of the season, so this discussion shall be continued at a later date.

We finally started harvesting and selling veggies over the past two weeks for the Headhouse Farmer's Market in Philadelphia, and, with the exception of some scallion bunches, we have managed to sell out of everything both weeks! Harvesting can be really awesome or incredibly painful. It’s great when the plants look gorgeous and healthy and there’s a ton to harvest but completely heart-breaking when you realize that your beautiful arugula has been chewed up by flea beatles or that the latest storm destroyed the spinach, and out of an entire bed you painstakingly planted by hand in 30 degree rains, you can really only eat about eighteen leaves. Nevertheless, it’s probably one of my favorite things about farming.

Please please PLEASE visit me if you are in the area. If nothing else, so you can harvest your own food and then proceed to allow me to make a delicious meal for you afterwards. There’s no better feeling then running into the fields barefoot at dusk with a harvest knife, choosing and cutting your own vegetables, and coming back to the kitchen with the freshest of ingredients.


Tulips in bloom during my recent trip to NYC.


My favorite little monkey Nandu!



People flooding out of the classroom for the "How to bring down evil corporations" seminar at the Brooklyn Food Conference earlier this month.



Tom surveying the final product - the culmination of more than a month's work.



Trish demonstrates how to trellis and prune the heirloom tomatoes.

Tom teaching us about soil samples.

Rows and rows of Remay - the calling card for any organic farmer.

One of the big jobs we did this month was installing the new irrigation system - 100 gallons per minute baby!

The Blooming Glen team listening intently to another organic farmer talking about soil on one of our intern field trips to North Slope farm in Lambertville, NJ.

Repairing the greenhouse after strong winds ripped it apart.

Tom in a moment of respite.

Sam engrossed in tomato grafting - pretty much one of the coolest things we've learned so far.

Forest of onions. Took six of us and two full days to plant these badboys.

Fun in the straw (NOT hay - apparently, I've learned, there's a difference).

Our bikes on the wrap around porch.

Visit me and we can sit on these chairs and drink wine while watching the sunset!