Saturday, October 16, 2010


okay, I had all of these high hopes and clever things written in my head for this next post. but then my internet wasn't really working, and an extra day passed and now I have so many things to write about, I'm not sure I can be clever. but I'll try.. for you, my readers. I seem to be most clever when I'm doing physical labor. I try to remember what I had thought up (which was sooo hilarious as I shoveled composted llama poo), but sitting here, it's sort of hard to remember.

The only place I get reception from this crappy-waste-of-money USB mobile internet stick is sitting out on the front lawn of the farm, which happens to be a fairly steep hill, which wouldn't really bother me but I'm trying to simultaneously sip on this tasty wine while I catch up on two days of lost internet time (there are SO many tweets to read.. geeze) and hills do not embrace wine glasses, apparently. noted.

so, where to start. Asheville was incredible, I will surely make my way back there again in the future. I went to the art museum, a few tasty restaurants, as well as every coffee shop and bar available. I spent most of my time/money in coffee shops and bars, pretty much trying to meet interesting people while doing research on wwoof farms in nearby states. there are some awfully cool coffee shops and I'm sure they got sick of seeing me after a while. I eventually heard back from one farm, The Farm at Mollies Branch in Boone, NC.

It's really just a small family farm run by Diane Price and Rob Griffith. They are a lovely couple, Rob is a doctor so I don't get to see him much (but he was a history major before and has TONS of interesting-looking books..if I may judge a book by its cover), but Diane is around most of the time and is super sweet and wonderful. I've been helping out transplanting plants, mulching and spreading compost, attempting to groom the llamas (okay, she didn't ask me to, and they don't really like being groomed..but I'll change that), finding chicken eggs (Diane recently changed up their living situation and they're mad about this, so they hide their eggs ala easter bunny--they're even wonderfully strange colors: off blue, brownish, aahh I could go on for hours about color). ANYway. remind me to get back to the topic of Feminism and Farming. I think I'll write a series of posts on that someday, but I'm still doing my research though so that's for a later date.

let me go into detail about the serious beauty around here. in the past two weeks I drove through West Virginia, into Asheville, and then to here, Boone. it was peak season for colors when I started, and even when I got to Boone the colors were seriously radiant. I've never seen half of the colors I saw while driving here. but after a couple of windy days here, most of the leaves have fallen and the mountain sides no longer hold their bright colors. it's crazy! two days ago I had to catch my breath every time I looked out at a mountain, and now it's beautiful (don't get me wrong, it is nice still), but much more dull.

my first working day I met Shamba (pronounced Shahm-bay), Samantha, and Daniel, who occasionally work for Diane here. Shamba and Samantha lived here in a teepee (sp?) for a year or so. they're aiming to live completely self-sustainably, which is pretty cool in my opinion. so they were out at the farm the other day and invited me to a potluck in downtown Boone. I should add here that I have made a rule on this trip never to turn down an invitation. so I accepted (bet you thought I would make an exception!). I'm becoming quite social and good at conversing with strangers (I guess it's easy when you can fall back on your 'I-just-escaped-from-a-cult-what-have-you-done-lately?'-story.) so this potluck was a nice little mix of Appalachian State students, Boone workers, and jazzy musicians. I shamelessly filled up my plate and grabbed a beer (sorry, but my other rule is to never fill a plate halfway) and settled on the couch where people milled around and complimented my jewelry (oh yes, I'm like a queen of some foreign land). I think I'm overusing the parentheses. oh well, my fingers are going numb because it's really cold on this hill...currently the sun has gone down and I haven't drank enough wine to warm me up.

back to the story. I met loads of very nice people and had a great time. it was Shamba and Samantha's four year anniversary (of dating), and they had to give me a ride home. classy third-wheel action. we celebrated by going out and getting potato skins, nachos, and a literally GIGANTIC brownie ice cream sunday (for my south jersey readers: think Duffers, but bigger). I apologized 327 times for being the third wheel, but they were too nice to tell me to screw off and walk the 15 miles home.

the next night (oh yeah, there's more), Diane invited me to a Kiwanas-sponsored spaghetti supper at her mother-in-law's place of residence. I socialized my ass off at a nursing home, and the ladies looooved me! Diane knows just about everyone that lives there (seriously the sweetest woman alive) and apparently a couch-full of ladies asked her who the beautiful young lady accompanying her was. I was just dashing in my ratty old Pashmina (never been washed and has been to every horseshow/road trip/sickness possible) and $.50 thai earrings. Ardath, Rob's mother, is a lovely lady and was very welcoming when I traipsed into her apartment. I love her name, by the way, so if I ever come up with a child in my lifetime, you'll know where the name came from.

well this post has gone on about long enough (and my computer's about to die). I'll try to do this more often so that you don't have to sit for two hours to catch up with my daring stories of bravery and combat. I know my butt is numb, and I hope that you've been sitting on a comfortable chair and not a grassy knoll like I have. farewell, and until next time, hope you're all doing well and thanks for checking in!

1 comment:

  1. This post is so you. Love it (and by extension love you). Good luck with the numb butt.