Let It Grow Organic Gardens

And I resumed the struggle. -Vladimir

Friday, May 22, 2009

Yes, That Was "Estimated Prophet" Blaring From the Greenhouse

There's been a hundred feet of armored cable in the old Volkswagen for about three years now. It's for when I put a light bulb in the packing shed. I'll get to it soon. The bus isn't going anywhere, so the cable is safe where it is.
The bus has many functions, the storage of electrical cable being just one. We've put interns into it in the past, and used it to store chicken feed, and sometimes think we will someday turn it into a chicken coop. But mostly it just reminds us that we're an organic farm.
We got a visit from the government the other day. They're always welcome here. We visit the government often enough, whether it's at the post office or the tax collector's office or the driver's licence office; it was nice to host them, for once. It was a surprise visit, making us feel not unlike Grenada, but the outcome was peaceful. Two people from the North Carolina Department of Agriculture dropped in, gladhanding and talking about CSAs. They were friendly and cheerful and attentive, like government officials in a school film strip. They said they wanted to know how they could help small farms, especially with CSAs. It seems to be the latest manifestation of the Obama Administration - the people who used to be helping the hog mega-farms and now thrashing their way through my weeds. Well, it's about time.
They listened, and that made the whole thing worthwhile. And then I listened, and I hope they noticed. Whether the state bureaucracy can help small farms with CSAs or not I do not know, but it was nice to hear that they want to help. And it was nice to know that they were willing to listen, and didn't come by to tell us what to do. Or what we were doing wrong. This new face of the government is welcome, but we wonder how it effects our outsider status. Is the broken down Volkswagen now cache? Will my barefoot interns inspire next spring's fashion designs? Or, will we ourselves be usurped into the mainstream? Will the bus become an eyesore? Will we buy shoes? Will we attend local Soil Conservation Service meetings, our collars buttoned down and our hair slicked like the kids in the film strips? Will we become the old guard?
We had no time for these weighty ponderables, because we had too many zinnias to plant. It nags at me, though, and I get self-conscious every time I eat some sprouts.

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