'My Inner Farmer'

This past Sunday, July 28,2013 I had the immense pleasure of listening to a wonderful piece on NPR.  Susan Stamberg was conducting an  interview writer, teacher,columnist for the New York Times and farmer  Verlyn Klinkenborg. His most recent book, More Scenes from the Rural Life,  is just out. It depicts glimpses of his life farming in upstate New York and he read various vivid, delightful excerpts from it.

What made this experience so pleasurable for me was to hear his astute observations of a  life lived close the the land.He is a wonderfully keen observer of the  patterns of nature, the seasonal changes and a life  lived with animals. While I don't have a farm, indeed we only have five acres, complete with 30 ' X 45' garden, fruit trees, berry bushes and, sadly,only four chickens, and two dogs, I could so relate to his observations and pleasures. He was clear to say that he is firstly an academic, yet  he comes from a long line of farmers. He returned to his family lineage when he purchased a farm in 1997. And while he does not make his living solely from farming, it seems that the rhythm and demands of  life on his farm are clearly the background 'fabric' of his existence. To a certain extent this is true for me as well.

By contrast, however, I do not come from a long line of farmers. Not my parents, nor their parents were in any way the types to be happy with dirt under their fingernails. Yes, my mother's father was a botanist/scientist and wrote an important volume on the plants on the island of Guam. (Useful Plants of Guam by William Edwin Safford, originally published in 1905), he was certainly not a farmer. However something, or somewhere in my DNA shows up as what I like to call 'My Inner Farmer'. Shortly after I graduated from college in 1972 I was inspired to ask my parents if I could dig up a plot of ground in their suburban back yard. With their permission I dove into this new passion. I purchased a small book describing French Intensive Gardening (The Postage Stamp Garden,  now out of print, I think), double dug a 10' X 10'  plot,added purchased organic ingredients (back then I didn't know anyone who lived on a farm, therefore had no access to compost/manure, my how times have changed!)  and by summer's end had my first jaw dropping experience of peering into a jungle of green and discovering...food! Cucumbers, pole beans, tomatoes...I was hooked. Ever since then, for the past  40 years,with few exceptions, everyplace I have lived I have always created a garden, I have always grown food.

While I listened to Verlyn Klinkenborg bemusedly describing the inflated antics of a Tom Turkey after mating, I was busy in my kitchen processing a sea of basil into fragrant pesto sauce, and upon finishing that I was taking the skins off of a gazillion ripe plum tomatoes in preparation for making Sauce Pomodoro with, what else, basil! All this in anticipation of a cold January  evenings when we are yearning for the taste of summer past. We will  reach into the freezer and pull out frozen pesto ready to be thawed and combine it  hot pasta or enjoy the intense sweetness of freshly picked tomatoes.'Remembrance of things past.' It makes all my hot, sticky labor well worth the effort.