I was lying on my couch in the early morning, like I do, reading the news and posts from farmers and doing my thing, when I got to wondering, "What day is it?" I went through some possibilities, feeling pretty comfortable that it didn't really matter since most days are the same. We work, we have too many Zoom meetings, there is a nightly Happy Hour on the Greenway, we have dinner, we don't go anywhere, we stay up too late. Then we get up and do it all again. But I persisted in trying to remember the name of the day.
Wednesday! What -- WEDNESDAY?!? Really? Shouldn't I be somewhere?
It was 7:45. In 15 minutes I was supposed to be at the stand with the rest of the picking for Crossroads Market completed. Well, to be precise, I was supposed to be at the stand 15 minutes ago so I could finish getting the load ready for an 8:00 departure.
I levitated off the couch, got myself into my work gear (mask, knife and clippers in holster, real clothes) and hustled outside.
From the time I was in high school, I have assembled what I need the night before for a hasty departure in the morning, just in case. That routine has saved me many times. Back then I had to walk/run all the way to the end of the Moutoux driveway to catch the school bus at 6:15. It was important to have my clothes and books already poised in case I had to skip the rest of the routine and just bolt out the door. There was no back-up plan for getting a ride to school.
One of the huge unexpected benefits of living in this neighborhood, right between the two farm properties, is that I can be at work -- on a golf cart -- in three minutes. So I zoomed out through Maymont, past all the megamansions (and my old bus stop), careened down the path to Parents, opened the deer fence and went in to pick my last - minute crates of greens.
In my tiny world, this lack of rhythmic structure is just a mild disorder. But for so many others, these past ten weeks or so have uprooted everything. We all wonder what normal will be, eventually. How will theater work? Will there be theater? Will restaurants be able to make enough money to stay in business? What will public transportation look like? Will we go back to traffic jams every day? What about these kids? We aren't just missing a beat here, the entire orchestra has left the stage.
Of course, in our self-absorbed way, those of us who don't have young children can't even imagine in our wildest nightmares what these ten weeks have been like. I guess the families who were homeschooling before might be less disrupted, but still there are no dance classes or zoos or band rehearsals. Parents everywhere are exhausted. It seems like the easiest age to manage at this point might be a newborn. Talk about topsy turvy.
So I know that my occasional lapses of memory are really a non-issue, compared to the wider world that is really traumatized. I count my blessings while grinding my teeth at the political news. The fields are filled with healthy plants and we are shifting into a higher gear around here. My selfish self misses the joys that come with having a season subscription to Arena Stage, an unlimited pass to the swimming pool, a regular appointment at the acupuncturist, a library card, a Common House and common meals with my neighbors, and so many restaurants that are within 20 minutes of home. Those are the elements that add texture and light to a fundamentally satisfying life.
In the meantime, this is my last Wednesday until Thanksgiving that is not all about the CSA. There will be no forgetting what day it is, for the next 25 weeks. Game on.
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
Wednesday, May 13, 2020
Barefoot Grandsons, Bossy Daughters
Anthony Mead Newcomb, memorable father and enthusiastic creator of "great concepts" was born on May 13, 1935. So he would have been 85 years old today. It is difficult to imagine that, as the pictures and stories end when he was 48, but he left a big, resounding legacy. People who never met him know a lot about him, just from knowing his kids and this farm. In honor of this date, I will remind us why some of us are the way we are...and why this farm is the way it is.
1. What's with all those barefoot boys? From the beginning of their lives, all the grandsons have gone barefoot in all weather. They didn't learn that from their parents. None of us goes barefoot when it's snowy out, but all five of them have some corrupted gene that makes them a little crazy. Their grandfather went barefoot more than anyone else in his world -- and it may have been his undoing, in some ways. Walking barefoot through a field that was sprayed with herbicide was never a good idea. He described it afterwards as feeling a tingling in his mouth. (As a a result, our boys will never have a sprayed field to walk through.)
2. Homemade everything. The four of us grew up in a world where everything could be constructed or fabricated from scratch. As a result, we all prefer to make our own stuff. And our children have also come to appreciate a homegrown solution over one that can be purchased. For example, our market furniture is unique. We don't buy a table with legs that fold up, we figure out what size and shape we want, and someone builds it. So when we need a different configuration -- like when the coronavirus forces us to change everything about the way we sell at the markets -- we don't miss a beat. We just rearrange the furniture in ways that meets the need and it works immediately. I get to tell Stephen or Jon what I have dreamed up, and when I have described it well enough, they build it. Now Stephen and Michael have gone off on many building tangents, having learned how to construct regular everyday things, now they build without a formal design. And they change the plan as they go, depending if the telephone poles turn out to be long enough to create a second story.
3. Not so much respect for rules. In this family, we don't do things to attract the attention of law enforcement but we also don't fret if everything we do is not strictly within the bounds of law. If we are not causing trouble for other people, and we aren't a danger, then we pretty much do it if it makes sense. We try to have all our vehicles registered and inspected in a timely way so we don't make it easy for the police to pick on us, but we do load tractors onto trailers and tow them from farm to farm without meeting every requirement. The housing that we provide for our workers is not strictly to code but it keeps them out of the weather and gives them privacy. The bathroom that Jon built in the Green Barn looks completely legal but it is not on anyone's radar. The cottage had a Tony Newcomb-dug septic tank for many years, covered artistically with leaves whenever there was a chance of inspection (we were on the radar of health inspectors on this farm for some amount of time).
4. So many vehicles, so many tractors. Most farms don't have quite so many internal combustion engines to maintain. Jon counted a few years ago -- we have something like 55. What's up with that? My father owned multiple cars and trucks plus two airplanes when he was in college. Some of them were operational, some were waiting for repairs. Jerry Lehmann told me they had a parade with all of Newcomb's vehicles at the end of one school year -- he ran a hauling company while he was at Oberlin, plus he had cars that he filled with people going home for spring and fall break. People who rode in those cars have lots of stories about the gas tanks that could only be filled halfway because of the leak at the top, and needing to be rescued on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Anyway, this legacy continues 40 years later. We almost never buy anything new but we are always ready to acquire a used tractor or truck for a good price. Our maintenance record has improved dramatically since Dad died but we still like to have plenty of vehicles on demand so we always have exactly what we need.
5. Along those lines: only use the vehicle that meets the need. You can't drive a big empty truck just to get somewhere. You must take a load. Efficiency is key. Fuel efficiency but also hauling efficiency. Just the other day a worker asked me if she could take a car home so she could go straight to work on the other farm at 5 AM on Saturday, saving herself a half an hour. I had to tell her all the reasons why that didn't fit into my world view, but in the end I said yes.
6. Social engineering. Each of my siblings, like me, thinks nothing of maneuvering and manipulating people into places they really want to be, doing things they really want to do, even if they don't know it yet. We have a lifetime of practice at this, and we learned it from our father. Charles was one of the instigators of what has become a huge Fourth of July parade and celebration in his neighborhood. Everyone loves it. Lani and I both run businesses that need to attract interesting, lively people who can work in an unusual setting -- our businesses depend on our ability to find and keep good employees even though we really can't offer much in the way of compensation. Anna is the queen, the head of the crowd, the top of the pile, when it comes to collecting up volunteers and getting things done. What people say about her: don't look her in the eye. How do you think Blueberry Hill got here?
7. Complexity is better than simplicity. Contrary to what most people might prefer, we thrive on a maximum amount of moving parts. When we were growing up, we lived on three farms plus we had a house in town and we were always moving from one place to another, and bringing stuff with us. The farm is tightened down a lot, now we only have two locations and we each live in one house, but we are still managing a level of chaos that other people might not enjoy. Pretty sure that our father had Attention Deficit Disorder, and that's why our farm is "organized" the way it is.
8. Love of travel. Just about every one of the descendants of Tony is a traveler. We love to be home and we also love to go places. Driving long distances is normal and expected. All the grandchildren have been to more countries and covered more of this planet than the generation before them (but that's because of the times they live in, not because they are more adventurous than their parents). We all have a low bar for comfort, so we can be happy with a very frugal trip.
9. Ah yes, frugality. Families have cultures. This is a family that doesn't spend money except on things that they really want (Anna seems to have no trouble spending money on her house, Lani owns way more vehicles and horses than she should, Charles is a gadget collector, plus he spends lots of money on his house I think, and Jon and I have made our biggest investment -- other than children of course -- buying a piece of ground that we will never sell but has a really nice blueberry patch on it.). But none of us spends ,much on normal things like entertainment or clothes or decorations.
10. A big laugh. I smile whenever I think of my dad's laugh. We all have that laugh. My mom has a good laugh too, so we can't give Dad all the credit, but I think the laughter that comes out of our deepest insides, that's the one we get from him. Thinking about Charles' laugh makes me incredibly happy. We all love to laugh, and we love to be funny and I think that comes straight from Dad.
Anyone could write a big list of the things they got from their father, and this is just the tip of the iceberg, but you get the point. So much of what we do and how we move through the world came from the training we got in the first 20 years of our lives. Some of that training had to be unlearned (a different post), but so much of it has served us well and given us so much joy as we spread our Tony Newcomb-ness around.
So, thank you Grandma and Grandpa Newcomb for having that particular baby on May 13. What a legacy.
1. What's with all those barefoot boys? From the beginning of their lives, all the grandsons have gone barefoot in all weather. They didn't learn that from their parents. None of us goes barefoot when it's snowy out, but all five of them have some corrupted gene that makes them a little crazy. Their grandfather went barefoot more than anyone else in his world -- and it may have been his undoing, in some ways. Walking barefoot through a field that was sprayed with herbicide was never a good idea. He described it afterwards as feeling a tingling in his mouth. (As a a result, our boys will never have a sprayed field to walk through.)
2. Homemade everything. The four of us grew up in a world where everything could be constructed or fabricated from scratch. As a result, we all prefer to make our own stuff. And our children have also come to appreciate a homegrown solution over one that can be purchased. For example, our market furniture is unique. We don't buy a table with legs that fold up, we figure out what size and shape we want, and someone builds it. So when we need a different configuration -- like when the coronavirus forces us to change everything about the way we sell at the markets -- we don't miss a beat. We just rearrange the furniture in ways that meets the need and it works immediately. I get to tell Stephen or Jon what I have dreamed up, and when I have described it well enough, they build it. Now Stephen and Michael have gone off on many building tangents, having learned how to construct regular everyday things, now they build without a formal design. And they change the plan as they go, depending if the telephone poles turn out to be long enough to create a second story.
3. Not so much respect for rules. In this family, we don't do things to attract the attention of law enforcement but we also don't fret if everything we do is not strictly within the bounds of law. If we are not causing trouble for other people, and we aren't a danger, then we pretty much do it if it makes sense. We try to have all our vehicles registered and inspected in a timely way so we don't make it easy for the police to pick on us, but we do load tractors onto trailers and tow them from farm to farm without meeting every requirement. The housing that we provide for our workers is not strictly to code but it keeps them out of the weather and gives them privacy. The bathroom that Jon built in the Green Barn looks completely legal but it is not on anyone's radar. The cottage had a Tony Newcomb-dug septic tank for many years, covered artistically with leaves whenever there was a chance of inspection (we were on the radar of health inspectors on this farm for some amount of time).
4. So many vehicles, so many tractors. Most farms don't have quite so many internal combustion engines to maintain. Jon counted a few years ago -- we have something like 55. What's up with that? My father owned multiple cars and trucks plus two airplanes when he was in college. Some of them were operational, some were waiting for repairs. Jerry Lehmann told me they had a parade with all of Newcomb's vehicles at the end of one school year -- he ran a hauling company while he was at Oberlin, plus he had cars that he filled with people going home for spring and fall break. People who rode in those cars have lots of stories about the gas tanks that could only be filled halfway because of the leak at the top, and needing to be rescued on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. Anyway, this legacy continues 40 years later. We almost never buy anything new but we are always ready to acquire a used tractor or truck for a good price. Our maintenance record has improved dramatically since Dad died but we still like to have plenty of vehicles on demand so we always have exactly what we need.
5. Along those lines: only use the vehicle that meets the need. You can't drive a big empty truck just to get somewhere. You must take a load. Efficiency is key. Fuel efficiency but also hauling efficiency. Just the other day a worker asked me if she could take a car home so she could go straight to work on the other farm at 5 AM on Saturday, saving herself a half an hour. I had to tell her all the reasons why that didn't fit into my world view, but in the end I said yes.
6. Social engineering. Each of my siblings, like me, thinks nothing of maneuvering and manipulating people into places they really want to be, doing things they really want to do, even if they don't know it yet. We have a lifetime of practice at this, and we learned it from our father. Charles was one of the instigators of what has become a huge Fourth of July parade and celebration in his neighborhood. Everyone loves it. Lani and I both run businesses that need to attract interesting, lively people who can work in an unusual setting -- our businesses depend on our ability to find and keep good employees even though we really can't offer much in the way of compensation. Anna is the queen, the head of the crowd, the top of the pile, when it comes to collecting up volunteers and getting things done. What people say about her: don't look her in the eye. How do you think Blueberry Hill got here?
7. Complexity is better than simplicity. Contrary to what most people might prefer, we thrive on a maximum amount of moving parts. When we were growing up, we lived on three farms plus we had a house in town and we were always moving from one place to another, and bringing stuff with us. The farm is tightened down a lot, now we only have two locations and we each live in one house, but we are still managing a level of chaos that other people might not enjoy. Pretty sure that our father had Attention Deficit Disorder, and that's why our farm is "organized" the way it is.
8. Love of travel. Just about every one of the descendants of Tony is a traveler. We love to be home and we also love to go places. Driving long distances is normal and expected. All the grandchildren have been to more countries and covered more of this planet than the generation before them (but that's because of the times they live in, not because they are more adventurous than their parents). We all have a low bar for comfort, so we can be happy with a very frugal trip.
9. Ah yes, frugality. Families have cultures. This is a family that doesn't spend money except on things that they really want (Anna seems to have no trouble spending money on her house, Lani owns way more vehicles and horses than she should, Charles is a gadget collector, plus he spends lots of money on his house I think, and Jon and I have made our biggest investment -- other than children of course -- buying a piece of ground that we will never sell but has a really nice blueberry patch on it.). But none of us spends ,much on normal things like entertainment or clothes or decorations.
10. A big laugh. I smile whenever I think of my dad's laugh. We all have that laugh. My mom has a good laugh too, so we can't give Dad all the credit, but I think the laughter that comes out of our deepest insides, that's the one we get from him. Thinking about Charles' laugh makes me incredibly happy. We all love to laugh, and we love to be funny and I think that comes straight from Dad.
Anyone could write a big list of the things they got from their father, and this is just the tip of the iceberg, but you get the point. So much of what we do and how we move through the world came from the training we got in the first 20 years of our lives. Some of that training had to be unlearned (a different post), but so much of it has served us well and given us so much joy as we spread our Tony Newcomb-ness around.
So, thank you Grandma and Grandpa Newcomb for having that particular baby on May 13. What a legacy.
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