With everything set for our week on the farm, Francesca and I woke early to flee the city and avoid the morning traffic. A bit cranky due to the early departure, we cruised along in silence breaking it only to scoff at the people as they began their workday. It was a beautiful, sunny day and everything was running smoothly, or so we thought. About fifteen miles out, and while on a major highway, I smelled something burning. Sure enough the hood of the truck was smoking up. We pulled into a gas station and called our friend, Patrick, to have a look under the hood.
After all was said and done, we had a bill from a towing company, no car, and bad spirits. Karma caught up with us for laughing at the businessmen earlier that morning, and we were forced to return to the city. Luckily our stubborn natures kicked in and we started to plan how to get out to the farm, a three-hour trip upstate. Repeating the mantra, “when there’s a will there’s a way,” had sustained our motivation and we arrived at Threshold Farm just before noon the following day.
Upon arrival, we met Hugh, a biodynamic farmer from Australia. Intimidated and way out of my element, I explained to Hugh that this was our first time wwoofing and first farm experience for that matter. Hugh shrugged my qualms off, and immediately began to show us how to change the fence line for the cows to graze a different pasture. We followed him closely, soaking up the lingo and instructions while trying to keep up and sidestep cow dung piles.
Lunchtime came and with it, an explanation of our expected duties and responsibilities while on the farm. We were to rise at 6:30 for breakfast, help cook and clean, and work five to six hours a day. During the week, we would be picking apples, packing apples and planting garlic beds. I began to grow excited. I was ready to get my hands dirty, to do some real work. This is what I had been waiting for, to see a small-scale organic farmer providing food for local customers and succeeding at it. I had a gut feeling that I was in the right place.
Stay tuned for more adventures on Threshold Farm! I will be posting again tomorrow.
The twigster,
Josephine
[…] after Francesca and I left Threshold Farm to return to the Big Apple, the scent of garlic followed us. We caught whiffs of the pungent yet […]
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