As expected, time is very tight now, as we keep squeezing a little bit more into each day. Some other stuff gets squeezed out (like rest and sitting down at the table for breakfast or lunch) but somehow we are still riding this wave. I think of the tomatoes as a managed avalanche. The plants are loaded with ready to pick fruit, and we have divided up the patch into sections so we are never trying to pick the whole thing at once -- but this means that we are never finished. It seems fine to have some percentage of the avalanche hanging on the plants.
Benjamin came home a few days ago, stopping here to pick up his motorcycle so he can go to his annual dance festival. He is on the crew of volunteers that sets up the event for a week and then he dances for a few days and then he will start his New England tour, visiting friends and family. While he was home, he was in some weird time zone, sleeping from midnight to 5 AM and then from 4 to 7 in the evening. He looks exactly the same. I am always surprised that he looks like the Benjamin who left here so long ago. So much has happened in his life, you would think it would show.
Alissa landed happily in Guatemala three weeks ago to be immersed in Spanish (alissaroundtheworld.blogspot.com) and has learned so much that she has forgotten all her French. She is living every moment fully.
Niece Tillie has been here for about a week and announced this time that she wanted to do grown-up work. Up until this year she has always been on the CSA and stand team, but this season she is throwing herself fully into all work. Cheerful and competent and full of sparkle and personality. She is part of a gaggle of teenagers here at Blueberry Hill. They go out for ice cream, they talk late into the night, they watch movies, it's like summer camp.
There is only one boy in the crowd, Peio. He fits into whatever demographic surrounds him. He eats dinner alone with me and Jon, completely comfortably. He works with anyone at all during the day, doing anything that is asked of him and keeps up his end of the conversation. Surrounded by many women, from age 17 to 80, he is totally at home. He is such a happy guy, and so interested in every single thing.
This has been a summer with not much breathing time for me, but all the wheels are still turning and every person is doing her best to make things go well. I can't imagine how we would survive without these willing, hard-working, upbeat and sharp young people. The hiring process was a success, hallelujah. And thank goodness Carrie is having a healthy and easy pregnancy. She is 32 weeks pregnant and working very long days.
When this baby comes, that will be the last gigantic juggling pin. Not a beach ball, not a bowling ball, something of a different shape entirely. The new baby will distract all of us (because we love babies) and Carrie will have another job, round the clock.
Today was the first Saturday in five weeks when it did not rain. Recently we had several days of such intense humidity that we were moving around in air that was mostly water. On those days, by 6 AM my first T-shirt was soaked all the way through. But then a lovely new weather pattern arrived and one T-shirt lasted all day long, with only a tinge of dampness. On those days of thick hazy humidity, I don't check the weather reports. I just get through the day without any expectations for improvement. The beautiful days are a gift.
Jon has added another job to his broad range of summer tasks. In addition to fixing things as they break, buying things for his myriad projects, counting the money and making the bank deposits, clearing the counter when I can't stand the chaos anymore, maintaining all the vehicles, and sometimes doing some computer work, he is now going to market on Sundays while we wait for Benjamin to come home from his travels. Benjamin will lighten our loads for a few months.
We have not quite reached the midpoint of the season, but it is within view. There are several ways to know when we have reached the midpoint -- one is when we plant the last beans, another is when we get the fall plantings in the ground. Those fall plantings are looming over us now. The plants are all ready to go, we just have to get ourselves organized to find the time to get them in the ground. It is daunting. But by this time next week, in all likelihood, the kale and cauliflower and collards will be marching like soldiers across the field, looking ahead to fall.
I have moments when I realize how much I love all of this. In any case, I have no moments when I am uninterested. At its very simplest, all we do here is try to move vegetables off the farm and collect up dollar bills. But it is so un-simple -- there are too many variables to count -- that there is no potential for boredom.
And that is the state of things on July 25. As always, I am thankful that we are all healthy. It's a miracle, really.
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