Current Quandary

You may know that I’m a huge fan of author and columnist Michael Pollan. The Omnivore’s Delimma opened America’s eyes to the problems of our industrial food system. “Farmer & Chief” outlined how the president should change our government’s agriculture policy. “Out of the Kitchen, Onto the Couch” pointed out that American cooking has become merely a TV spectator sport. And he’s such a great writer that learning these tough truths is fascinating. And inspiring.

Pollan prompted me to eat local through Community Supported Agriculture. He put the moral question in my head that’s at the heart of the new novel I’m researching. And, to that end, he is why I went to work on a farm. Well, for two days, anyway.

This week I spent some time at One Woman Farm in Gibosnia, PA. The woman is 24-year-old Margaret Schlass, who, after falling in love with agriculture on a trip to Peru and then interning at and managing farms in New York, this year started her own farm just a few miles from my house. It was kismet my learning of One Woman Farm, because the protagonist in my novel is close to Margaret’s age and starting her own farm — albeit without Margaret’s experience and with dubious results that I’m sure won’t befall One Woman Farm.

As busy as Margaret is running a three-acre farm all by herself — seriously, she is the entire staff — she still agreed to let me come visit. I couldn’t profess to be much of a farmhand but I did promise not to whine. And I didn’t. Not even while helping her load up and then spread a truckload of horse manure with a pitchfork (thus the blister on my thumb). Thank God Margaret loaned me a pair of tall rubber boots — that manure pile was 15′ high and soaked with three days worth of rain.

I also got to pick a few tomatoes, clean carrots, wash and package eggs, cut flowers for market, carry some buckets, and ride around in a real pickup truck with the windows down. I left with mud caked on my jeans and sweat soaked into my “Life is Good” cap. I would have stayed longer but I had scheduled a session with my trainer (for a workout I no longer needed) — a fact I was too embarrassed to admit to Margaret. She works that farm 13 hours a day. Farmers do not go to the gym.

I probably couldn’t last working on a farm for long, but I gotta say, I want to go back. I really loved the experience. Blister and all. And I have Michael Pollan (and One Woman Farm) to thank for it.

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Posted in Life in the boonies | Tags: book research, farming, Michael Pollen, One Woman Farm