Juggling

I realize that all I ever write or think about is the farm now, and I do apologize to any readers who are not particularly curious about the ins and outs of this life.  But I can't really dream up any other topics right now, and I am not going anywhere interesting or doing anything different, so...

We are just about to add one more ball into the mix.  The first ball was just the one that goes up and down, up and down, in one hand. That was getting the season started.  Then we added the second ball: going to a couple of markets on the weekends.  Two weeks later we added the third ball, increasing the number of markets to five on a weekend.  While these balls were circling through our hands, we would continue to bend over and plant vegetables in between catching the balls and passing them along.  We increased the number of hands so we could increase the number of balls.

So we are up to three balls, pretty much the same size and shape, staying in the air.  Then we added a basketball: the CSA.  Four days a week here, twice a week out in Loudoun.  We shifted our feet so we could keep our balance.

Next week is the second to last ball, and it is a beach ball.  We open both stands, six days a week. It's a beach ball because it is not as challenging as the CSA but it takes attention and you have to notice when it is blowing away because you took your eyes off the ball.

The very last ball, the one that I dread the most, really, is the tomatoes. They are a bowling ball.  Soon we will have three nice easy balls of the same weight, a basketball, a beach ball and a bowling ball.  It takes a lot of hands and eyes and attention to keep all those balls moving between us. Every time I look at all the tomato plants -- which are uncommonly beautiful right now -- I cringe.  We are waiting for the blight that has been coming earlier each year. No sign yet, but it will inevitably arrive. And all those gorgeous plants will begin to die.  If we are lucky, we will get a few harvests off of each plant before they are just too diseased to pick any more.

And we will keep on juggling until the tomatoes implode, and we can drop that big heavy lump and feel the simplicity of one less ball in the air.

But when they are all moving in synchrony, it is so satisfying. On many a Saturday morning when all the market trucks have rolled out and I head out to pick for the next round, out in the wide open spaces, I feel so pleased and gratified that all the hands are catching and throwing those balls, barely noticing the difficulty of the task.  Everyone takes it for granted.  I doubt that most people who are doing the work have the time and perspective to enjoy the choreography.  It is one of my favorite parts -- imagining how it will all go, and then watching it all unfold.

And then, gradually, we will let each ball drop.  By December we will have just one tennis ball in one hand, and in January we will drop that one too.