Cobwebs and Chives

I've arrived! It's now the close of my first day at New Morning and though I've only been here for the latter half of it, I feel as if a whole week has passed from the time I walked out of my door at home. Against all odds, I managed quite well without the GPS and my sense of direction (those of you who know me can feel free to laugh) only failed me once.
I reached the farm in good spirits, as the ride was pure gorgeousness that is a Pennsylvanian spring. Along with the fresh yellows and greens of new life, juneberry trees laced white through the woods and an abundance of redbud and maple brought lively color to hills on either side of the winding road. New Morning itself was as lovely as I remembered, but far more deserted. It looked at first as if I was the only soul in the whole place, but I finally spotted a lone figure by one of the barns and realized with relief that it was John (a familiar face from my onsite interview). He greeted me pleasantly and explained that I had a choice of two cabins which from a distance looked very small and lonely in their respective corners of the farm. he gave me instructions on how to reach either by car, and left with a promise to check in with my later.

I must admit that my first impression of both cabins was a little grim. While not so small as they seemed at first, the interiors were dusty and had more than enough spiders, carpenter bees (luckily only on the outside),  and mouse dropping to make my skin crawl. After some consideration, I decided on the farthest cabin. It was furnished with a bare twin bed, small nightstand, and an old reclining chair upholstered with ratty red velvet and a black and white cotton skeleton print that clashed rather marvelously with the light green trim of the interior. But it wasn't the interior that drew me to the place, but the majestic black walnut tree that the cabin nestles under, and the little stone path leading to my porch with a small patch of chives thriving in the center.

 The view from my doorway is delicious, and with a window in each wall the light and the fresh air quickly made the eccentric innards more palatable. I also noted a few boards on the outside of the back wall that form a small ladder to the roof, which I imagine will make a lovely evening seat in the summer.

I spent the majority of the day clearing cobwebs and airing out my little home and while I'm not done yet, it certainly feels more cozy. As far as negatives, I was sorry to find that there is in fact NOT electricity in the two outlying cabins, but the three cabins share a lovely kitchen and living room space that quite suits my needs. As I write, I'm curled in one of the couches, enjoying a cup of tea and a piece of toast with the most delicious strawberry-rhubarb preserves I've ever tasted. There's plenty more to tell, but it's late and I'm tired to the bone. I'll post this tomorrow, a small wait that will be worth it for the pictures, I think!

~E

Preparation and Trepidation

In one day, I'll be starting a new passage in my life - having graduated from my fine alma mater with a degree in English/Creative Writing, I've taken my leave of academia (at least for now) and turned to agriculture. I've taken a position as an apprentice on an impressively large organic farm in south-central PA. In many ways, it's the most ideal situation I could have after the intellectual burnout and stress of college. There's something about working with the land and feeling the earth living around me that awakens my mind and inspiration like nothing else. It's a return to something I know well, with my many years of helping on our family farm, and yet I know that I will be learning and gaining new skills everyday.
 The challenge of a new situation and untested waters is certainly exciting, but at the same time, I have a case of the nerves. Rather than preparing us for the "real world," I often think that Wellesley coddled its students too much. Everything was laid out for us, simply, and sometimes with more instructions and rules and guidance that we wanted. In stark contrast, my contact at the farm seemed so relaxed (read : normal) that I didn't know what to do. No packing list? No schedule? No online survey, mailing list, or itinerary for my day of arrival? Well... huh. I'm arriving at my place of work tomorrow at a time I decided. I've packed what I want, not what I was told to, and I don't know what I'm going to do when I get there, but I'll (probably) be alright. Am I nervous? You bet. But this summer will be what I make of it - and I'm going to ensure it's great.

Wish me luck!

~E