That one week of summer we had in July allowed for a unique experience. Ben, Annie, and I harvested parsley on Wednesday around 10am. That day was about 90 degrees with intense sun. Thursday's weather was much the same. Friday morning rolled around, I woke with swollen hands. By breakfast time my fingers had a couple blisters that suddenly popped up. I showed them to Ben and wouldn't you know it, he had the same type of blisters. The work day began. We showed Dan and Margaret. They were unsure of what it was...maybe poison ivy? I was certain it was not. It didn't itch. It was not little bumps at all, quite large blisters in fact. It was painful to the touch. When Annie started work, she showed us that her hands were just like ours. We traced it back to the only thing that just the three of us did was harvest parsley. Annie talked to a naturopathic medical friend. Prognosis: Photodermatitis. This is an abnormal skin reaction to sunlight which can be caused by exposure to plants in the Apiaceal or Umbelliferae family...such as parsley. Hmmm...never knew that one. The blisters lasted for about 10 days...but some blisters popped up even two weeks after the parsley harvest. Even now, over one month later, we still have scars and occasional swollen hands. So now you know.
We have carrots!
And eggplant...and peppers!
There have been two events at the farm. First, Bike and Brew. Thirty five people met at an urban garden plot in St. Paul. Helmets on, wheels spinning.
We got on the head of the gateway trail and saw it all the way through to the other side. Rode some hilly country roads overlooking beautiful farmland and rich forests.
Arrived at the river's edge. Loaded ourselves and bikes onto a pontoon to be shuttled to the other side...MN to WI. A two mile ascent up the river bluff. A total of 40 miles. When we all arrived at the farm, it was brick fired pizza and locally brewed beer. What a day!
Second event, one week later. A vintage baseball game. Played in the pasture. 1860 rules. It is a gentleman's game...everyone plays to have fun and there is good sportsmanship. For instance, if a man comes up to bat for his second time, the pitcher may say something like, "it was a very nice hit you had last time sir." Wooden bats. No gloves. Bounders are allowed: a ball can bounce once and it is still fair to be caught. Fair fouls. No sliding into a base.
This game was Rum River Rovers vs. Osceola Onions. Score 9 to 9. Being a gentleman's game, it could be left that way. What a day!
There are now two pigs on the farm. At first they were shy and skiddish. Now they come investigate when we throw compost over the fence. They are hilarious, chasing each other around, making tunnels through the tall weeds. When we are out harvesting onions, it makes us giggle to hear their snorting as they root around through their food. It is a joy to see the life these pigs live as we think about others we have seen living in tight quarters on concrete void of mud and slop and weeds and room to run. This is how it should be. Every moment, these pigs must think, what a day!
The field of garlic has been harvested.
We have frogs. I mean seriously. There are more frogs than I have ever seen. We cannot walk five steps without at least one frog jumping out of our way. Leopard frogs. Wood frogs. Spring Peepers. American toads. Tree frogs. Really big. Teeny tiny. We like all these frogs.
One of the wonderful things about being a vegetable farmer is all the time spent outside. The closeness to the earth. The rich soil under finger nails and in between toes. The brisk mornings and dewy grass. The sun beating down, warming and browning our skin. The beauty of a nearby summer storm. These are the things that distract us, that make us stop and look up in awe. Every night we lay our exhausted bodies into bed and think, what a day!
