A Curry of a Life

As I finish my westward journey it hits me that I’m half-way through my intended trip. Though I’ve placed no sincere agenda on my time of traveling (could be one year, could be one season, could be 3) I’ve made it to the northwest tip of the United States; I’ve driven across the country. I’ve been through 11 states and one province to get to where I am. That’s a good accomplishment to look back on (rolling over to 226000 miles on the car isn’t a bad reminder itself.) And the friends and network of contacts I’ve made along the way from St. Louis to Lawrence to Canon City to Castle Rock to Hamilton to Sorrento (and even far off in Connecticut and New York!) have been both God-sends and a good stream of people with which to keep in touch and call in a pinch if need be.

All this is extremely affirming and an exciting endeavor for a young will-be farmer amid the paradigm shift of her generation coming back to the land. So many farmers become locked down to their land, and WWOOFing is a wonderful way to keep a working network among a hard-working, ingenious, resourceful and intuitive group with similar problems, different solutions and a variance of microclimates that couldn’t be more diverse. In fact, the one thing I’ve heard from almost every farmer I’ve stayed with so far is that they really wish they could WWOOF.

But I have to admit, that I’m finally getting tired. A little road-weary. A bit nostalgic for my own bed, in one location, for more than a few weeks. I’m craving familiarity to yin the yang of newness all of the time. There’s a lot to be said for making friends in lots of places, but if you can’t have your one place of lots of friends it’s easy to feel adrift at times.

“If variety is the spice of life, mine is a curry.”   -From My Life in France, by Julia Child

And at this particular time, it’s proven helpful to sit down and re-evaluate my intentions and goals for this season of traveling and farm-hopping. So I have rewritten my info page and hope with that to maintain a clear focus on this time of my life where youth and transience and a sponge-complex aid living and learning.

Though time (and money) is one thing, experiencing, tasting, handling and feeling are things one can’t get merely from reading a book (or even a blog, sadly.) And that’s why I’m doing what I’m doing – to fully interact with my passion and interest in a very educational, hands-on way. Be it compost piles, potato beetles, sheep, horses, goats, chickens, herbs, flowers, squash, broccoli, peaches, apples, pears, hoes, shovels, wheelbarrows, hay balers, 100degree markets, 20degree markets, potlucks or honor-system roadside stands.

I will always remember the fertility of the Kansas soil and how to herd a sheep from behind; the feel of the grit on my knees of the rocky, sandy garden in Montana; making compost tea in Colorado; weeding beets with knives in B.C., and; that the perfect trellising system for peas has yet to be invented.


2 responses to “A Curry of a Life

  1. I am so proud of you, love! The process you’re going through is so amazing. I totally understand the desire to be in one place for a while, which is why I chose this particular internship…. I wouldn’t have made it traveling alone nearly as long as you have! I’m in such awe of your ability to network, explore, expand, and basically rock the pants off anything you set your heart to! You’re amazing, my dear!!!

  2. Camille, you’re amazing. I miss you and can’t wait to see you again. I hope the rest of your journey is as fabulous as it has been to this point.

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