Farming can be a volatile profession. One week, you’re on top of the world, Scrooge McDuck-ing it into giant piles of heirloom tomatoes and wallpapering with collard greens. The next, you’re pulling thousands of rotten carrots out of the fields.
OK, the first part didn’t happen, but the second part is the g*d-honest truth. Landon and I lost our entire first planting of carrots to the torrential rains of H. Irene and T. S. Lee. We got 15″ of rain over the course of 3 weeks, and our carrots–swaddled in water-logged clay–just threw in the towel.
Things were bad. Landon and I looked out over the fields with sad eyes, uncertain about the fall harvest and the transplants yet to hit the ground. But then something happened. A sort of “Just when I thought I was out… they pull me back in” moment. But in a good way–not in a mob way.
This happened:
And this:
While things may look a little dice-y now, we know there are blue skies ahead.
(P.S.–That’s our chickens’ very first egg.)