We finished planting today, June 14th. That is certainly the latest finish of planting in my memory. Some may blame global warming. I don’t think global warming is a fiction invented by scientists or politicians with an axe to grind, nor do I believe it has a noticeable effect on the weather I experience today. This spring is more of an outlier, which taken with all the other outliers, describe ‘normal’ weather.
All that aside, it was a cold, wet spring. As one pundit put it, we didn’t have a planting season, we had planting days. The work this spring got done in one or two day bursts between the rain.
Tonight Debbie, Lana, and I were sitting on the porch toasting the completion of the planting season.
Like our champagne cooler? We do have a wine cooler, but it wasn’t handy so I grabbed the Bubba Keg to keep the champagne cold. That’s actually a sparkling wine from Fenn Valley vineyards in Michigan and it was quite tasty.
As we sat on the porch and sipped the wine and toasted our work done, this quote came to mind:
“Every person is called to be an artist. The small family farm is one of the last places where men and women can answer the call to be an artist, to learn to give love to the work of their hands. It is one of the last places where the maker is responsible from start to finish, for the thing made.”
Wendell Berry. A Defense of the Family Farm.
We’ve got the start done, still a long row to hoe to the finish.
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