Well, I can say to you, Radiant, I have found a real job. In fact, I experience all of the expectations, politics, incidents, stresses and fleeting promise of a "Real Job." New people, and their expectations, are wending their way into my nascent enterprise. I have been encouraged at times, and reprimanded at others. I deal cheerfully with committees, boards and property owners, prospective wholesale and retail customers. I have felt encouraged and rejected. I have short-term and longer-term goals, and really no budget other than surplus materials and equipment left over from my distribution business.
Through all of this, and as I reflect on an early Sunday morning, I am learning, bit-by-bit, a little more about faith. I am seeing everything, if you will, in the most visceral, seemingly childish terms.
Wherever I go, be it a farm, or a store, or a parking lot, I am a guest. I realize that I represent the most fragile of conditions, and in many ways, I must certainly suggest one who is in need. I have a good sense of humor, so I can live with this tentative life. I realize that practically everyone out there lives in fear, and the more money one earns, the more difficult it becomes to suddenly live without it. We are all equal... at one time or another.
Although my present situation will likely lead to new products, new investors, new distribution and a new chance to prosper, right now, at this moment, I am on my knees, pulling weeds, plucking and crushing squishy red Colorado beetle larvae between my thumb and forefinger, just like Farmhand Jimmy taught me. I am, well, loving the opportunity to exist, and still survive. I take this chance out of my own need to live and work as I wish.
I have faith, certainly in a traditional, secular sense... but I also have faith in my ability to determine how this scenario eventually plays out. I have a job, and it is a most important one. I have a new belief, as I wrote, I believe, on day two that, "Rejection is God's form of protection." I am finding that when one thing happens to push me into a new situation, that it often hurts. In my case, however, leaving one imperfect situation can often lead to a better one. And even in a small community, the opportunities are pretty big. If you let them be big.
Right now, however, the most important job in the garden is weed control. Perhaps my greatest single cash sacrifice, to date, has been the repair - a new carburetor for my four stroke Honda weed whacker. I bought this back when we owned a ridiculously large and impractical house on five acres on a hill outside of Noank Village, CT. Even though the property was large, it was no challenge for my weed whacker, but on the farm it has been given a chance to shine.
This little machine is so powerful that when it approaches a bank of two-foot weeds, it growls a combustion snarl, and its orange nylon cord whips the weeds into water vapor and flecks of green compost. It's dirty work, but immediately satisfying!
There is still plenty of hands and knees-to-ground worship. Today, besides acting as blog photographer, Debbie is weeding the cutting beds. I finish the corn rows and start in on the bush beans. Waiting for Deb to finish the flowers, I decide to tie some tomato plants to their stakes. Up close to these plants I notice that hundreds of small tomatoes are growing on the vines! They are well camouflaged, pale green fruit nestled inside the darker protective hues of their host plants.
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