Planted and Rooting...

The farm is planted!  I never thought I would be so relieved to share that little tid-bit.  We planted the entire plot this year, by hand.  In years past, we have planted up to two-thirds of it, all by hand also.  My hands are blistered and callused, and the feel of the wooden-handled rake and hoe have become a little too familiar.  Planting the entire space has just about killed me.  Not really, but there were days when I wondered if we would make the goal of being planted by June.  Here we are, goal met, and a week before June, and I am so relieved.

Planting the last of the corn with "Mama" cat on my back, she perches like a parrot!

I am gaining a greater appreciation for farmers than I have ever had.  I am planting a mere speck of a plot, but there are many that have farmed before me, planting acre after acre by hand.  I can only imagine the backbreaking work, the sweat, the scorching sun, and the worn hands and bodies.  Such a hard life.  These are the survivors.  I love these people!  They have a spirit that can't be broken.  They know the great value of hard work and they relish in the thought that no one else has fed them.  Their own hands are what feed them.  These people have strength I have never known.  I have great respect for them!

All of my Great-Grandparents were farmers.
 This is Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa Hodson,
all gussied up shopping at the old ZCMI downtown SLC. 

This year we planted all heirloom plants, minus one little patch of corn planted to demonstrate the difference between hybrid and heirloom.  I have to tell you that putting these old, historic seeds into the ground has been a thrill for me.  They each have a story to tell, a history that comes with them, and a story still to come.  I love that!  Spinach that Thomas Jefferson grew, vegetables that fed Roman armies, lettuce save by a Yugoslavian family for generations, tomatoes that defined a region, it is so exciting!  I can't wait to taste it all.

Wade's Giant Indian Corn

My eyes widened with delight each time I ripped open a new packet of seeds and peeked inside.  I planted the most beautiful Indian Corn seeds that I have ever seen.  All different shades and hues, some striped, some vibrant, others pale and soft.  I think that my favorite seed was the Ojo de Cabra beans that I planted.  The name translates to "eye of the goat" and they are beautiful, shiny, smooth, and specked seeds.  They look like they have a flawless and lacquered "M&M" coating.  They were delightful to hold and plant, and I couldn't help but smile each time I dropped another into it's row.

It's a funny thing to plant a seed.  You don't just plant a seed, you plant some of your hope and faith, and a little bit of your heart with it.  As I plant, I think about what each seed will become, what it will give back to me, because I gave it the opportunity to grow.  I have great hope and faith as I plant.  I wonder if the seeds feel it.  What do you think?

I'm going to go sip a little lemonade and think about the bounty to come!  

Happy planting!