Wet Day

Hard, steady rain today-- mist and fog came with an early afternoon lull, then rain returned. Temperature held at a steady 68F.

Put my rain slick on in the car, tightened my boots, then went to meet the boss. He had the old tractor hitched up to the wagon-- today was pick day, and rain wasn't gonna stop him. NYU helped me pile the pick crates high-- 90 or so bushel crates fit snug. Bah and Old Rudolpho joined us: we sharpened up the knives, grabbed a bag of elastic bands and we climbed into the wagon. The rain was coming heavy as we rolled down to the lower fields.

First we cut 8 cases worth of bok choi, both Mei Qing variety and the boss's favorite Black Summer (25-40 choi bunches fit in each crate). Next, NYU and I started on the long Swiss Chard row-- picked it all, filling 13 crates (15-25 bunches per crate). Stubborn pick-your-own families crowded into the strawberry field for a half-hour, despite the rain-- but as the wind kicked up and it turned heavier, they all ran for the store. Discussion didn't extend beyond-- how many crates left? For a brief moment in time NYU became the defacto translator-- he's studied spanish for years in high school and college. Unfortunately Old Rudolpho can't understand a word of what he translates-- so it was back to gestures and 'quatro cento mas' or 'no mas.' We finished the chard and it was on to the lettuce-- the boss wanted 400 heads or ~35 crates full (25 romaine, 10 loose leaf). Lettuce cuts quick, we stacked the wagon high with full crates then stomped in for lunch.


Viking, NYU and I met under the awning after lunch. Viking is committed to farming land of her own with her husband one day-- so she wants to learn every angle. From Viking's first day, she's always been real irritated by the unspoken rule-- no women in the field (addendum: no white women, Old Rudolpho's daughter-in-laws and Bah's wife join the crew in late summer). But on days like today, Viking laughs-- 'I guess there are perks to being stuck in the store.' NYU threw a little mutiny-- when it came time to march off and cut broccoli rabe, he refused. He sat under the awning and said good luck.

Bah, Old Rudolpho and I cut 100 bunches of rabe-- we packed 4 crates real tight. The boss was happy-- most of the greens for the CSA tomorrow were out of the fields. Back at the farm store, NYU had set up a market tent over the new cemented sink and had started washing the day's pick. Bah and Old Rudolpho took up their 5 gallon buckets and headed out to pick more snap peas-- I unloaded the wagon. The rain died down for a time, and the mists rolled out from the woods and off the hills. NYU had finished a tower of romaine crates, so I carted them into the cooler with a dolly-- then I took my place at the wash station.

All the field sinks are still hose fed, so I whipped up a wire contraption to hold the hose in place. We washed: the rest of the romaine, the loose leaf, the chard, the broccoli rabe and the bok choi. Rhode Island ran out to the store this morning and got new sink plugs-- so despite the rain, washing was a dryer time than usual. Chatted with NYU as we washed-- 6 packs were in order after today we decided. We avoided any mention of going home-- hope would only bring us down further. Jockey was in the kitchen baking pies and pickling-- he waved us into the cooler and we sampled some of his pickled garlic and cucumbers. Everything tasted good: cukes needed more time to sit, but the garlic was tender and delicious. Back to washing.

As NYU finished the last crates of choi, I organized the cooler-- things get chaotic quick, so I spaced everything out (as much as possible) and piled the crates to the ceiling. As an old guy who ran a general store in town used to say-- stack 'em high and watch 'em fly. Easy is supposed to run the CSA tomorrow, so we made him an inventory list and marked the crate towers. The cooler looks good filled.

The sky let loose again, harder and just as steady. NYU and I took down his wash tent and cleaned out beneath the awning. Bah and Old Rudolpho came back from the field just as the boss rolled up in the van-- they left their buckets and said Going Home. And the boss agreed, everything we could do was already done. That meant us too. The boss said-- good job boys, fill out your time cards for a full day and get outta here. The foreman was down in the greenhouse fiddling away at something-- waved our see ya laters and sloshed out.

NYU's ride was hours away, so I gave him a lift home. Now I'm dry and got my 6 pack, feels pretty good.

Rest of the week is supposed to be pretty wet, but we'll see tomorrow.
On with the rain.