A Fine Line
Dear Dungarees,
Seeds have been ordered to plant our cover crop. Knowing nothing about crops, let alone cover crops, we looked at a few different grains. One grain can tolerate temps as low as -15, the other -30. A difference of just 15 degrees. We went with the most cold-tolerant grain as we are located in a northern wind tunnel. That 15 degrees will make a difference. But 15 degrees…that’s a fine line.
Compost has been brewing. Continual temp checks are a must. Under-heat…no glorious life-giving dirt. Over-heat…explosive poo bombs that can spontaneously ignite. A fine line.
The scythes need a good sharpening. We still need to learn how exactly to sharpen them. Multiple ways have been found. Fine farmer has a man crush on a scythe guy he follows on YouTube and is ready to put his methods to practice. Another fellow I watched has a different way. Similar, yet different ways of sharpening. A fine line.
Every victory and failure on the farm is connected intimately to each other and sometimes there is little difference if any between the two.
We have been watching the growth of some volunteer tomato plants in the greenhouse since April. They grew, looked healthy, and were stunning. Then suddenly, they seemed rather dreary, dropped their blossoms, and wilted while we were unable to do anything but watch with sadness. We adjusted the humidity, asked some farmy friends advice, and Googled. We had mass success with our beans and other veggies but the grief of losing our tomatoes was great. We took Fine Farmers parents through the greenhouse when they were here in June. They looked at our sad tomato area and listened as we explained the loving care we have given them, the research we have done, the steps we took to provide them the best growing environment, and the process of their downfall that resulted in the wilted outcome before us. They listened, smiled gently, and said “Son…those tomatoes are potatoes. Reach your hand under the plant and tell me what you find”
Fine Farmer reached in and pulled out a potato. Cry laughing ensued. Best story ever. Our “tomato” harvest was incredible.
Failure/victory. A fine line. And I wonder how many of us are pouring into tomato plants in our lives, devastated at the wilty outcome in spite of much energy and care given, when the reality is, there is no tomato. Just a glorious potato sitting under the dirt, waiting to be harvested.
And the crux of it all is…I don’t have answers. Lord almighty if I’ve learned anything recently, it’s that I know nothing. Overthinking things is wasted energy. Underthinking things is lazy energy. But the beauty, I think, is the fine line between failure and victory. Depending on the focus, they are one in the same.
I feel as if the Amish in my window (not actual humans…Amish figurines) still watch us with joy as we experience failure and victory in spades in these early days of learning. I wish we could harness their centuries of knowledge on being stewards of the lands and have the depths of their farm wisdom in an instant. But I also think there is joy in the journey. We will look back on these young farm days and laugh at the sure failures hindsight will provide but for now, it seems like a lot of victory. We are here. Seeds, compost, crop rotation, healthy animals, and farmy friends throughout the states cheering us on.
Humanity is incredible. Connection is life-altering and the fine line between failure and victory is a beautiful thing.
