Farm life surrounds us everywhere. The soil is black. It is incredibly rich. Every mile or so, there are farm stands with freshly picked lovelies and a tin box on the honor system, maybe a suggested donation. There are enormous Amish hay wagons, complete with draught horses, laden with corn and an old Amish lady who collects like ten cents an ear. Other times, they sell the hugest cabbages I had ever seen, for a mere fifty cents. Plus, you get to yap with the nice Amish folks, who, in a round about way, find out the "news" of the world and the weather.
We would eventually move further North, away from the Amish, and into loamy (sandy) soil. Since we had Amish connections, we would go on our bi annual pilgrimages to "Mrs. Fisher's", an Amish greenhouse, and buy seedlings, dried peas, beans, and onion sets. From there, we would replant everything in our own greenhouse, then when the time was right, we would replant outside in our fenced off garden in their final home. We have had mixed successes and of course, horrendous failures due to heat, storms, deer, molds, critters, you name it. We still have enough to feed an army, we share with lots of family and friends. We provide fresh food for a pantry nearby, servicing the needy
I realize how lucky I am to have this garden. When we built it, we did not know it at the time, but we would have to rely on it somewhat during the Pandemic. We had food shortages, non deliveries of food, meat shortages, and hoarding to deal with in the grocery stores. It hit home that if needed, we could live off our freezer for meats, make our own vegetable dishes, and bake our own bread. We were quarantined for 2 weeks, and pretty much lived off our pantry.
It is frightening knowing dear friends and family were fighting to stay alive. We lost one dear friend, and now we are dealing with sending our kids back to school in the middle of this whole plague. Our daughter is boarding, and is quarantined on campus for several months. Our son will go mostly online in a "hybrid" version. Every day they have to record their temperatures, and be super aware of sanitation and distancing. On top of this, we cannot resume any sense of normalcy in our personal lives. We cannot worship, we cannot gather, we cannot go to craft shows or concerts. My business, Abra Couture, has completely gone online. No more craft shows for the foreseeable future.
I miss my show "family" so much. My closest friends are those I made while doing the NYC metro area show circuit. I have been doing shows for 30 plus years, some great, some awful, and lived the carny life i suppose. We are public people, basically, in the entertainment business aka show business. We perform the high wire acts mere mortals cannot. They ooh and ahh, as they try on jewelry, clothes, or buy a gorgeous raku pot to add to their home. They can't make it so they buy it. But, they buy "us", too. We are the spirit inside their homes and the essence of bling on their bodies. Our art makes them happy.
When life is volatile, and difficult due to unforeseen circumstances, I have the privilege of going into my little garden, and picking a fresh tomato, slicing it up and eating it. Then, I can forget about life for a little while, in the sun.