Between running around New England attending weddings, working full time, and the seasonal work piling up, Meg and I found ourselves trying to keep our heads above the workload water level. The tried and true Symphony cure for drowning in your own work load is to throw a work party. Sometimes the internet works like a wand from Harry Potter, a few post here and there and the event is launched. Thanks Facebook, thanks Email.Mother nature graced us with sun and good friends showing up around noon. We learned that: Kids are good at harvesting. No carrot or daikon went un-dug. Dogs love you up even while you work. Beer makes work easier. Burgers taste good after hauling compost, tiling up weeds, and mulching walkways.
All said and done: Put up eighty pounds of purple-nurpple kim chi( purple cabbage, carrots, daikons, red onions), turned over 400 feet of garden space, hauled a 1/2 ton of compost, failed at fixing a shovel, pulled all hoses, laughed, 20 people came together and connected over the spirit of stewardship.
The taste of community savored sweetly as the sun went down. It was just a bit too cold to flop over in a hammock and let out a breath of accomplishment, but sun pouring on a couch worked as a solid substitute. The day is a thumbnail sketch of how food, farming and families will be. It stands one of our favorite sayings upright: "Farming; its not poverty, its a party"
