Transitions are Rarely Seamless

It is the end of March, the time of year when we are sometimes outside working and sometimes not.  At this time I begin to think more about farm stuff and less about anything else, but the other stuff is still going on. My calendar still reminds me of Monday piano lessons, evening meetings where I seem to be serving on a number of quiet advisory groups for the temple, choir, Blueberry Hill meetings.

Nothing is new in all of this, except that this year instead of just thinking about the timeline of the farm that is a golf cart ride away from my door, I am also thinking about the farm that is a 45 minute drive away, at best. This is a huge new wrinkle.  I am not the only one thinking about the distant farm, I consult with Jon and Ellen and Ashley, the most senior worker out there.  So now I am much less likely to really know what is going to happen next. I have to ask questions because I have never been responsible for day to day operations in Loudoun.  Asking questions is not hard, but not knowing is.

I expect that within a month we will have made the transition into a regular pattern of communication, of travel, of management.  I am so accustomed to being the boss of my world (here).  Eventually I hope to have created a wider circle so we are all on the same page, even with a 45 minute drive between us.

It's a little frazzled feeling right now.  I am actually happiest when the two crews are combined and we can all be working in the same space, with the same goals.  Yesterday was excellent.  Jon and Carrie and Katherine and I went out to Loudoun and joined forces with Ashley and Sam and Warren and Ellen. We tackled a problem that has been worrying us for a bit -- the movable hoop house (a structure that is about 24 x 48' and about 15' tall at its peak) needed to be moved on its tracks. BUT it had been lifted off its tracks by the wind, who knows when, and that presented a problem.  Ellen and Jon and Ellen's boyfriend Dan came up with some theories earlier on how to lift the thing, and by the end of yesterday we had successfully disconnected the hoop house from its moorings, lifted it back onto the tracks with levers and lots of woman power, pushed it to its new spot, and reattached it to the ground.  It was a great moment.  We still have to replace the plastic which blew off in a huge wind this winter, but we do know how to do that.

Anyway, this is a complicated time for me, determining where I am needed most, telling people in two locations what the priorities are, and staying ahead of the game.  It is a new game, and I don't quite know how to fit in yoga and piano practice with any regularity. But that is part of the rules of this new game: I have to make all the pieces fit.  Thank goodness Jon is healthy.  The whole game comes apart when he is not strong and fine.  He is absolutely an essential part of this, and he plays a huge role in enabling me to keep spinning all these plates.

I am not going to worry very much, in this blog, about whether the topics are as interesting to others as they are to me.  It seems quite likely that we are sliding into farm talk for the next months, but there are still some other topics that I am thinking about and they will surface occasionally.