The Farmer Takes a Bow

Second-best thing about Saturdays (beside no limit on streaming 30 Rock episodes on Netflix) is getting the email from Farmer Dan about what's happened that week at our CSA. He waxes poetic about strawberries and snapdragons and salad greens all summer, turnips and kale all fall. He thanks specific shareholders for their recipes that week, which he then disseminates to us masses.

And I eat.up.every.word. Farmer Dan can turn a phrase as well as he can a field:

Giving Thanks

It's dark out there. And pretty cold too. Now its' raining. With a threat for a little snow and ice mixed in. Seems like a good time for a matinee. Or maybe a good time to dig 5000 pounds of parnips out of the ground. Let's see. Matinee or parsnips? Hmm. Tough call. Okay. Let's just get this done.

It's not that we don't like going to the movies. Or the beach. Or the mountains. Or out to dinner. It's just that there's something we've got to take care of. Once those parsnips are out of the ground, then we can head to Cinemark. Well, maybe after the cabbage and the carrots are finished next week.

There certainly is a good amount of sacrifice we need to accept when we do this job, day after day, week after week, month after month all through this long sprint of a season. And sometimes it seems like more of a sacrifice than others. Like when the weather is 80F, sunny, and without a hint of humidity and we've got to pick 2000 lbs of tomatoes instead of sitting by a rushing waterfall in the woods.

But the bottom line with all of this, is that we chose to do this, and not out of any masochistic, holier-than-thou, look-at-how-much-we've suffered mentality. We're not trying to prove
how good we are by listing a long litanny of things we've missed. We actually like doing this and are here by choice, of our own free will.

Which of course, begs the question, why would we choose to do this, after all? At this time of year, the season of Thanks Giving it seems all to clear why this is the work we've chosen. Not for the glamour (Farmer needs a wife!) or the money (farmer needs some money!), but for the chance to serve something greater than ourselves. We are frequently reminded of the value of our work to the people who we feed. Whether it's the apple pie brought to the farm shop without warning, or the near-constant thank yous at the farm shop, or in the e-mail thanking us for the bellies we are filling with food. Knowing that our work has value to people, value that they can actually eat,
reminds us how lucky we are to be doing this job. So now, we are especially reminded of the thanks we want to give, to all of you, for giving us the opportunity to serve you. To be useful. To be productive. To be partly responsible for feeding you.

Sure we'd like to go to the movies. As soon as those carrots are out of the ground.

We hope you have a great winter and we look forward to seeing you again next spring,

Dan (for Karen, Adan, Kerry, Danya, and Lisa)

This morning I read his note over a skillet of garlicky greens, potatoes, carrots, and eggs, which we'd picked up last weekend. Thankful, indeed.