Nourishing Bites | Growing Time Part 3
Part 3 (Read Part 1 and Part 2)
I’ve written a lot about how I rely on a weekly To-Do List to keep the farm work organized and my efforts efficient. But there’s one important step between drafting a comprehensive list and setting about doing the tasks listed.
This is probably the most crucial step of all, and all too often, it’s not a conscious consideration. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by a long list and want to just rush right into getting something, anything, checked off.
But that’s exactly what I’ve learned NOT to do.
Instead, I pick up my pen, put on my thinking cap, and edit that list voraciously.
Some tasks are straightforward and need no review. Summer squash will wait for no one and it needs to be picked every other day- like clockwork.
But there are many things that get added to the list that aren’t so clearcut.
For tasks that are totally overwhelming, (install 320 feet of trellis) I break them down into more manageable parts and assign realistic time frames. (Spoiler alert, not everything really HAS to be done right now.)
For tasks that are not clearly defined (“mow everywhere”), I make sure to better define the scope of work and clarify boundaries that are more reasonable and realistic.
For tasks that feel important but don’t seem possible given time constraints, I keep asking “why” until I uncover what it is I really am hoping to accomplish.
Sometimes the task as written actually won’t be the best/easiest way to achieve the true goal. (Is covering every seedling flat in the drying shed the right solution? Wouldn’t building an end wall with a door to keep chickens out actually be better?)
If I get stuck, obsessing about something that’s getting out of hand, I push myself to dig into why it’s not getting done and/or why it evokes such strong, visceral feelings in me.
Sometimes, just the act of introspection can help me move beyond the need to “do something”. (Again, spoiler alert: the solution isn’t always to “do something.”)
Sometimes the solution is to come to peace with how things really are, and/or to acknowledge that a task is actually not at all aligned with my beliefs. In this case, it’s a task that is probably important by other people’s standards but deep down doesn’t hold much value for me.
Put another way, are you doing what really matters most to you or are you spending time on things because of how you think you will be perceived?
For instance, years ago, when I stopped to analyze why I felt so pressured to spend time mowing in July, I realized that it was more about appearances (keeping up with the Joneses so to speak) rather than because I really “need” to mow certain areas to have a successful farming season. (Note to self: The green beans and cucumbers pay no mind when the Queen Anne’s Lace grows knee high in the grassy border south of the field.)
It can be easy to draw relevance where there actually is none.
The work is to set down false beliefs you don’t even know you’re carrying, and pick up what is actually true for you.
Yup. This means you have to be willing to let go of some unrealistic expectations.
Speaking of unrealistic expectations, here’s one for you: All chickens will remain within fenced areas at all times.
This year Brad and I will remember as the year of the chicken. Or rather, chickens.
Our flock has blossomed robustly! Right now we have 18 healthy young chicks, with more hens sitting patiently on their clutches of eggs. The diversity of feather patterns, personalities, and styles of parenting have taught us that there is a lot still to learn about chickens, and there is a lot to enjoy!
We’ve watched Pinchy’s chicks using the watering dish as a wading pool, Prettybird teaching her chicks how to pick fly larvae off very patient donkey legs. Pepper spends time bending the dry heads of grass to the ground so her little ones can reach the tasty seeds. Midnight makes a big show of pecking bits of groundfall fruit so her chicks learn that apples are good to eat. Freedom’s birds greet me in the morning by fluttering like leaves out of the young Douglas Fir branches. As they hop back up the branches over and over, I assume they are practicing using their wings and learning how to FLY!
Some of the most precious memories of my farm life come from putting the chickens to bed at dusk.
After so much busyness all day, every winged creature has returned to his/her favorite roosting spot. The adult birds are quite quiet, but the young birds still have a lot to say. They softly peep and coo to themselves and each other. I’m convinced chicks can roll the letter r with their tongue because as they drift off to sleep the barn is full of a blissful, purring-like conversation.
It’s the most calming feeling, being in the barn as night falls. What are those little chicks saying? Are they recounting the adventures of the day? Discussing what they’ve learned? Or are they planning tomorrow’s To-Do’s?
I am still astounded every morning I open the coop doors at how these seemingly fragile, tiny creatures quickly make their place in this big world. Their mothers spend all day, every day with their young students: teaching and protecting and exploring and being together.
And nary a To-Do List in sight.
Now that I’ve been making farm task lists for over a decade, (and living with the consequences of my choices), I can say with confidence that aligning what really matters to you with what shows up as To-Do’s is one of the most important ways to “grow” time for what you love.
In my case, I will trade a well manicured yard or a blackberry free hedgerow for time to nurture nutrient dense produce to fruition, time to rest and reflect, and time to write essays that keep me inspired and connected to my community.
My niece Mae tells me that summer at the farm is the “most energetic time.” She’s got that right! Finding time to write isn’t something I have to do just once, but rather something I have to recommit to again and again. It’s a choice, and it takes effort, just like anything else that is worth doing.
I’m not one to send Christmas cards, or make an annual photo album of each year. Aside from our copious crop records, there’s very little record of farm life.
I hope my weekly essays paint a portrait that is more nuanced and descriptive of the unique characteristic of each year. While not comprehensive, these musings at least offer a glimpse into what happens on a working farm.
I can’t possibly share all the incredible, gorgeous, intricate, fascinating moments that I’m privy to, but writing is my way of giving voice to a few of these every day miracles.
I am so very privileged to be steeped in farm life.
You all can’t be here, but I hope through my words you can gain an appreciation of how special and healing and necessary organic farms are to our world.
At the end of each day, here’s hoping we can all set down our To-Do Lists, channel our inner chicken and be resolved to find or make or take or grow the time we need. Time to listen, time to care, time to steward that which we love most deeply. ~AJ
There’s always time for smiling.
“There’s only one thing more precious than our time, and that’s who we spend it on.”