Voice is gettin' rusty

Practice makes perfect. Or as my grandfather said, perfect practice makes perfect. And I am beginning to think my vast lack of recent practice has heavily taken a toll on my writing. I'm not talking about research writing, grant writing, budget writing or any of that practical nonsense that I practice all too often. I'm talking about creative writing.

Creative writing has never been my forte; I've always been best at helping to form and express the ideas of others. But what value is that if you can't thoughtfully and meaningfully express some ideas of your own? Stuck in social science undergraduate classes and more-than-full-time nonprofit work, the creative side of my has all but been dead and buried. I rarely write for pleasure anymore, draw with ink pens like I used to love to do in every moment of spare time, practice violin for hours a day.

So my New Year's resolution isn't to get good grades or do well at work. Somehow, magically, I've got those things covered at the moment. How that all fell into place I'll never understand. My resolution is to maximize my creative expression. Let's try this out, blog, and see what happens.

Pen over computer keyboard

Personal vs Professional Life

I read an article recently that advised to keep one's personal and professional lives separate to achieve real happiness and peace of mind. Maybe that is they key for some people, but I like to think that if your professional life is fun enough, why force yourself to keep it separate and leave work behind at a certain designated hour?

The real reason I think of this is that I have had a lot of trouble consistently updating this personal blog, but recently started one for my work that I check and update obsessively. So until I untangle my personal and professional lives, this is where you'll find me: http://utcnfoods.com

And now this week!

First harvest time. Delicious, fresh organic lettuce. Check the juxtaposition with the photos below

Spring is here!

...And maybe even summer! It shows...
(click on images to view them larger)


The farm a month ago

The farm this week, and lots more has sprouted up since then. Planted a raspberry patch today! I love springtime

With all that's goin' on I got the world in my palm

The change of seasons really is a great thing. As soon as you can't take one more sticky, humid summer day, fall comes around with its cool, its colors and its food. Fall didn't bring all that much cool though, and it was a whole different ball game when the air started to have that crispness to it that nips at your nose and your fingertips and even your eyelashes, and makes warmth your Holy Grail. It is finally winter.

Because I lived my life almost entirely outside in the summer, the change of seasons practically means a change in lifestyle. I now take the subway to school instead of biking five miles across the river, farm work has slowed down immensely, and I don't spend hours in the evening sitting on the porch, pondering, watching, chatting and listening. I have been driven inside, to the library, coffee shops, my room--where I finally conceded to getting curtains, heavy curtains that keep out the cold. And with the winter for some reasons comes that nearly annual desire for companionship; if for nothing else, I want someone to warm up my bed. I digress...the winter has simply been change of pace, certainly lazier in some ways but busier in others. A few great tidbits that show the change of seasons...

A week's summer harvest

Jean-Claude on weighing duty

Bryant messing with the chicken at Ursinus College...

Ibrahim, Me, Keith and Mumin hot and tired after a long day of work in the summer

Halloween harvest party, the whole family in costume: Donyia, Melissa, Tuwanna

Me and Mumin, one of the coolest kids I know

Digging up sweet potatoes in the fall

I didn't say they were small potatoes

Things at the farm are looking to be so much bigger and better next year, it's incredible. We will ostensibly serving 50 families with CSA shares (weekly eight-pound bags of vegetables) and have a weekly farmstand. We are planning it so intensely, and although things never go exactly according to plan, I can assure the ratio of potatoes to hot peppers will be much more appropriate this year. We will also be trying a lot of new things, like growing potatoes in cages, building a variety of trellises, and interplanting different crops like crazy. It's unbelievable how much autonomy I and two other young people have over the project, and how successful it has been. Landing right in the middle of this has been one of the greatest blessings in my life, and I can't wait to see where it takes us in the next year. It's a good place I'm in right now, and I am very much looking forward to the next change of seasons. And when spring comes, my windows will squeak open, my bike will get back on the road, the plants will go in the ground and my kids will run outside to help, yelling "Miss Annie! Where are the other garden people? What are you doing? Can I help? I missed you guys in the winter!" and in their own way they recognize the seasons changing.

The Days are Just Packed

In recent weeks, the days have been flying by. Just yesterday I was out on the farm teaching my favorite high schoolers how to prune tomatoes, watching the early morning fog lift off of the city and the July dragonflies appear to take its place. Wait- that was two months ago by now. Since then, the kids went back to school and so did I. Back to the land of beer pong and forced flirtation, trying to impress others when the only ones we should really be trying to impress are ourselves. Can you tell I miss summer?

The speed at which my life is moving seems to be increasing exponentially and it makes me wonder: is it going to continue in this direction? Will I be sixty years old and one minute later, seventy? They say that time flies when you're having fun, but why is it not the other way around? Why can't those times of boredom, sadness, awkwardness blow over instead of hanging above us like a rain cloud waiting to burst? It really must be because you can't have too much of a good thing. Would the great times in our lives be nearly as great if they lasted forever?

No amount of philosophizing will change the true fact that it is finally fall. And the universe really is designed perfectly, for when I thought I just wouldn't be able to finish one more bike ride in the miserable, muggy Philly heat, fall rolled around. And with it, new characters have entered my life. The old ones never truly leave.

I like to say that I now attend the church of George. I have begun to spend two mornings a week with a neighborhood man, George, working in the garden. He attended a cooking demonstration the nonprofit I work for held at a nearby church, and inquired about ways to get involved. Two days later, he met me at the garden gate at 9 AM, dressed in coveralls and ready to get dirty. This man is an amazing person- at 40-odd years old, he walks everywhere (there are not short distances, mind you) and knows everything about his city. And tells it to me, in what feels like an impassioned, meaningful sermon, while we are there on our hands and knees in the dirt.

He's also trying to get me to spice up my vocabulary, and stop using the words "cool" and "wow" so liberally. "Wow" seems to be the hardest, given that his stories have recently been of deep personal pain. And all I can say in response is wow.

I have no way of contacting George, we just meet at the garden in person. Today I'm being lazy and staying home because of the rain, and I'm almost positive he's out there anyway waiting for me. And for him, standing out there alone in the rain, the time is probably not flying by at all.