Wednesday, July 23, 2014

We Harvest Garlic


Every fall we plant garlic.  Nine months later we harvest our crop—a little more each year—and I marvel.  I marvel at the passing of the seasons and our abiding love for growing things together.

Garlic is sort of where it all started for me—my love for farming.  In the fall of 2001, I had an internship in college with a quirky old organic farmer in southern Illinois.  My first job was sorting, "cracking," and planting garlic.


I remember so clearly how it smelled in the barn.  How much I loved sitting in there, alone, sorting the bulbs and sorting my thoughts.  I also remember reading Stanley Crawford's book A Garlic Testament, as I was falling in love with garlic.  And as I was falling in love with garlic, I was falling in love with farming.  



I had already fallen in love with Jeffrey.  I wrote him letters then—about the farm, the garlic, and what it felt like to figure out what was most important to me.  All those classes; all those books; all those papers; and where I made sense of it all was outside on the farm, with my hands in the soil.

Our love has grown up since then, but how grateful I am that after all those wonderful years we love to plant and harvest garlic together.  



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