But not too badly. Anyway, I think it’s appropriate that my first (!) sunburn of the season also marks the end of the third week.

Yesterday was a Craft event. Basically, that means taht we quit work at noon, ate speedily, and then set off for Bug Tussle Farm, where we met up with farmers from all over KY and northern TN. “Wait,” you may be asking yourself, “don’t you have a not-so-friendly farmer acquaintance in northern TN?” Why yes I do. And of course he was there! Bug Tussle has an awesome swimming hole, and apparently Sketchy Farmer Man never passes up the opportunity to swim naked. There wound up being like 25 people there, which is a pretty ridiculous number. Anyway. Farm tour was hot but interesting. It’s really strange how we think of farming as one of those “this is how you do it; do it like this, and you’ll always succeed–usually” situations, when really there’s an incredible amount of variation. These farmers, for example, swear by letting the animals graze their fallow fields. The other farmers asked how they deal with the soil compaction that results from it. Doesn’t it hurt their baby plants? But apparently the soil compaction is most of the point. Something about weed protection. I don’t know how they get their soil so beautiful with cows walking all over it all the time, but it was loose and lovely and glorious.

The tour was led by tractor; apparently Eric (is that his name?) has a new tractor that he gets excited about using, so he hitched up a trailer behind it and loaded up hay bales to sit on. Free hay ride! THere’s a very steep road between where they live (where we started) and the farm. As we started down the hill to go home, he slowed wayyyyy down. Someone asked him about it, and he said that he had taken it too fast before (this is a tractor, mind–too fast is ~4 mph) and had to ski down. He’d rather take it too slow than too fast, he said. Just then, we start accelerating and sliding on the gravel. So he yells, “Jump off! Jump off!” and we did. It was slightly scary. someone landed on Andy, but he was fine. Just a bit scraped up.

Farmer potlucks are the best potlucks. For those of you who care, someone made sungold pico de gallo that was beyond delicious; there were some disappointing beans; bread that looked like meatloaf but was dry and disappointing except that I found a walnut in it; meatloaf that looked like bread but I didn’t eat it; corn; muskmelon; and from Hill and Hollow, coffee ice cream. (For those of you who are bothered by my use of semicolons, let me explain: when I read a list with semicolons, it throws me off because I’m not used to it. This is dumb, because the semicolon often makes more sense to me than a comma. Therefore, I use semicolons liberally. Don’t ask about my use of parentheses.)

It turned out that there were two internationals at this event: a WWOOFer from Germany and an established farmer in the group from Russia. I did not schmooze with the Russian, but I did some shameless schmoozing with the German. His name was Rando (Randolph), and he’s from–guess–Berlin! Tempelhof, to be exact. I.e. right near where I lived with Jennie. I knew he was German because he was wearing suspenders, a stupid hat, and all neutrals. I should have guessed he was a Berliner because his pants were made of leather. I did a good job not laughing.

Unfortunately, this event did not end until about 8:15, so we got home at 9:30. Which is very, very late. I would like to go back to bed, but I guess I’ll have to settle for taking off work early to make more lasagna! We have tomatoes now. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

 

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