Monday, March 23, 2015

burn it all down


Three weeks ago I told Eric I thought he should leave and travel around the world and we should break up and we should sell the farm. I had just come back from the city and walked around the house yelling and crying at him...upstairs, downstairs, face down on the bed, up down dropping grenade after grenade. I saw the hilarity in this as I was in the middle of it; as if I was watching a shitty made for TV drama staring sally field --  bless her -- and yet inspite of this understanding I could not pull myself back into clarity and kept marching around blowing things up in my life for an afternoon. In reterospect Eric must of recognized this because he didn't seem to take it as seriously as I hoped and went outside to do mid day chores, me sinking into bed fully clothed where I wept and then looked at instagram.  

Where I saw a picture of a swimming pool in the tropics. 


Ariel Dearie is a florist here in Brooklyn and we're friendly despite the fact that she's a tea drinker. A few days later she had given me all the information I needed to get to this pool. We've got a good thing going on here in Brooklyn; florists don't let florists burnout


Getting off the farm together is no small feat for Eric and I. We run it by ourselves in the winter, and although the chores this time of year (feeding and watering animals, throwing sticks for dogs) are relatively slim in comparison with our growing season.. Our sheep are clever girls, prone to testing the limits of their fence; one of our young livestock guardian dogs has a penchant for chewing on those sheep when he gets bored, and we've recently accumulated a frock of hungry hawks who've discovered the delicacy of fresh chicken flesh. 


All this said, a farm run by haggard burnt out farmers is no farm at all. I called Sarah Montiero from Farmhand Flowers. Few women are as skilled. She agreed to farmsit in an email that outlined her plan to 'handle anything that came up and tell us about it later' and I booked our flights. I tell you, it takes a village. 


While we were away I made a conscious effort to avoid conversations about Saipua and the farm. We read, applied sunscreen and listened to the only music that managed to download from spottify on Eric's phone: a playlist called Awkward Slow Jams. It was pretty epic. I travel a fair amount for work, but to go away with Eric and have nothing TO DO was a luxury I am so grateful for.

I've been back now for a week. In that time, things have gone right back to the chaotic whirlwind that is Saipua. We are having serious growing pains right now; we're on the precipice of our 10 year anniversary and it seems that everything has been thrown up in the air. I'm patiently waiting for it all to settle. 


At the farm we're waiting for lambs. We have 8 bred ewes and they are due to deliver in April. I order lube, and a bunch of small tubes and bottles and things that are all slightly too medical looking for me. 

My astrologer once asked me to think about what it would be like to wake up one morning as just myself instead of sarah of Saipua. Take all the flowers away, the farm...all the identity 'stuff' stripped away. Can you do that in your mind for yourself in your own life? It's strange right. And frightening. We build these things as armor. Protection from what?


Today is Monday. All this week we'll be gearing up for our annual Plant Sale this Saturday the 28th. More soon on that...

18 comments:

Sara Kate said...

I'm so glad you had a getaway to reflect and unwind. I hope spring breathes new life and gives you a renewed sense of peace

Suzonne Stirling said...

I'm one of those readers who tend to lurk and not comment. But I must tell you, I so enjoy your posts. Thanks for telling it like it is, keeping it real, and maintaining a sense of humor. You inspire me, whether it's flowers or life. Soldier on!

Anonymous said...

"We build these things as armor. Protection from what?"

//

you seem to be a person who has immense trust in herself. that trust is strength. that is all the armor you'll need. your courage is astounding!

LPC said...

I was hoping you guys were in the Philippines:). And I'm glad you got away without too much burning. Hope the lambs birth well.

Belinda Norrington said...

The fear we are not enough, is the thing that I think most of us are protecting ourselves from. What we are measuring ourselves by is the mystery. Your posts are so honest and true, I love them.

Jen said...

To hear of your frustration, exhaustion, and sorrow helps immensely to those of us suffering quietly in our own Upstate New York farms. I am blaming this long cold seemingly unending winter. And the deep-seeded secret desire to know how to do everything. Perfectly.
Thank you Sarah.

Anne Hubbard said...

Oh gosh. So glad you got away, had a break, had time. Your work is beautiful. Not just beautiful, but breathtaking. (I have kept it in my head when I plan for spring) I also have no doubt it is very, very, very hard from the flowers to the farms to the classes-- and that the creativity that started it all likely gets overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work. I wish you balance and success. Thank you for sharing.

Anonymous said...

I like this idea of a farm-sit thing... I can never get away because there is never someone I can trust to watch it. Nothing better than another farmer... ought to set up a farm-sit community and explore this further..

courtney said...

For the love of god please write a book. Your posts--such a treat every time.

Anonymous said...

Wishing you all the best! I agree with the commenter noting the brutal Winter we've had in the Northeast. So hard to endure. Much luck with your lambing and all else. Keep writing. Your talent is truly magnificent.

Nicole Franzen said...

Love you, I feel your words lady <3 xxx

Jessica Hunter said...

This was brave, honest and sincere. Thanks dear, Sarah, just as you are, without the farm and the flowers. You're an inspiration to me and so many others. Best and big love from Ontario.

Anonymous said...

Your way with words is as perfect and unique as your flower arrangements. Love your posts, all the best to you.

count buckula said...

haha...I called a few days ago, and got a robot message that said 'this caller is out of the calling area right now.' I wondered where you might be...

give eric a high-five for me.

Anonymous said...

Hang in there, Sarah. Would another cowl for you and for Eric be welcome woollies? I will get started.

Sachi Rose said...

Sarah, Thank you for this. I can whole-heartedly relate, working half-naked on taxes from my Brooklyn apartment with a bad case of PMS and my ambivalent cat at my side. A pool sounds really nice right now. Tear. Giggle. Tear.

xx

Stacy said...

Vacation rocks. And so does love! Thanks for another great read.
-Stacy

Maria del mar said...

It's this courage that drives us through life.