A day in the life of a farmer

18 Jul

The other day on Facebook, I saw a post where someone said they had a secret desire to own a farm, of course it’s not a secret anymore.  I think everybody has a secret desire to do something they have romanticized somehow, in their head.  Mine was also to have a farm complete with chickens.  It never “looked” like this in my head.  In my head, I always had “farm workers”, in reality “I am the farm worker”.  This post will take me all day to write as I plan on adding an entry every time I begin a new task.  At the moment I can hear the crows outside so I have to go pick figs (I have an order for 1 gallon, for Miss Charlotte who also bought 5 gallons over the weekend, I have to fill by this afternoon).  Here goes:

6:00 a.m. wake up, make coffee, get first cup

6:33 a.m. throw on bra under tank top just in case somebody sees me outside, put on old ratty shoes, don long-sleeved shirt and plastic gloves with fingers cut out:  Pick Figs

7:28 a.m. in with figs, scrub sticky off hands, measure out quarts to see how many we picked this a.m. (5 quarts), set phone to remind me to call Miss Charlotte about figs before lunch, pour second cup of coffee, put away dishes from last night, make bed, start laundry, get dressed for day.

8:42 a.m. feed and water chickens, collect eggs.  Catch loose hen, return to pen, try to figure out where she got out from (dang, about 4 thousand places — note to self:  need dirt work around yard to secure and/or bury some fencing material — great!)

9:15 a.m. out to pumpkin patch to weed.

11:34 a.m. come in for break, water and lunch.  swap out laundry.  call Miss Charlotte.

12:30 p.m.  waiting on Miss Charlotte to get here.  have nice visit with her — while here she also purchased 1/2 pint Momma Ford’s Chili Sauce and 4 tomatoes.

1:08 p.m.  out to garden to pick produce and check figs.

1:34 p.m.  out to  pumpkin patch to weed.

2:43 p.m.  in for break and water, look up weights and measures online-print material for farmers market, print labels for canned goods using cardstock, cut labels out (stupid printer won’t line up with purchased blank sticky label) glue labels to canned goods.  sort through produce for farmers market and canning. weigh produce and put into baskets. gather everything to front of house to be loaded into truck. take inventory of what I am bringing with me.

3:47 p.m.  breathe, load truck (hubby still at work 😦  dang), change clothes.

4:12 p.m. leave for farmers market — takes 3.4 minutes to get there (that is 3 point 4 minutes not 34), arrive, unload truck and set up table.

5:00 – 7:00 p.m.  man table at farmers market, talk to other farmers when possible, chat with customers, sell produce and canned goods, met goat farmer from another town–invited her to set up table at our farmers market with her homemade goat soap and other goods from her farm.

7:00 p.m.  reload truck, tear down table, go home.

7:04 p.m.  arrive home, begin unloading truck, turn around and friend “J” is here for porch visit (has that look on her face that means she needs someone to talk to), continue unloading truck, say hi to hubby and inform him “J” is here, get cold beer for me and 1/2 glass wine for “J” — spend time on porch visiting with “J”.

8:00 p.m.  say bye to “J”, go in house – take inventory on produce and canned goods I came home with – calculate how much we made at farmers market, chat with Kenny about fall garden.

8:40 p.m.  peel and slice tomatoes for dinner, get toaster out and make toast for sandwiches, get out plates and mayo as Kenny warms up leftover butter beans, inform him am not hungry and will skip dinner.

9:00 p.m.  fall into recliner, stare at boob tube for 30 minutes, decide to eat tomato sandwich.

9:34 p.m. make tomato sandwich, eat, clean up kitchen (sort of)

10:00 p.m.  lights out!

Okay so there are no drop dead gorgeous, long haired, six pack muscled out, perfectly tanned farm hands in my day.  Sigh.

 

 

 

 

 

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