Farming these acres is my job. A job I chose. A job I chose and grew to love. Being a woman farmer is what I am all about. A woman who farms not a farmers wife. I am the farmer. The grower of food. 
And I am still a relatively young woman. In the peak of her working life. This is not my retirement or anything, I am not old enough for that – not by a long shot – this is my job. This is not a hobby or just something to pass the time. This is my job of work. It is a small enterprise on purpose. I like to fly under the radar. My food revolution is spreading by word of mouth. My job has impact. I feed people. I invite people to come and experience farming. This is my job. 
It is not 9 – 5. It is unpaid. I am self employed with horrible pay. But I did not design this work to make money from the outside. That would be another kind of job. I designed my career to create a self sufficient life, to train myself to live within my means, to feed people all summer long and put some away for the winter. And to write about it. To create a lifestyle that feeds itself and feeds me and enables me to save a little for travel and clothes and boots (and the hairdresser though she gets paid with eggs as often as not!). And to document the progression in written and photographic form. The work and the documenting in this blog are my job. I am amazingly lucky to be able to love my job. Though I did not love it at first.
But is a job that makes no cash a lesser job than well paid work? Am I of lesser value to society because of the lifestyle I have chosen? Am I still a force to be reckoned with? 
I start work at 7.45 every day. This is what time I walk out the door dressed in work pants and a warm top and boots. By then I have had my coffee, done the washing, made the beds, planned the dinner, swept the porch, cleaned the kitchen, hung out the laundry and answered my messages. Just like any working woman. By 8am I have arrived at work. List in hand. And we proceed.
At 12 we have lunch, we go on a break, then the unpaid workers take time off until 3pm, while I do paperwork and planning and food (which is part of my job), write the lists on the boards then garden or mow then we reconvene at 3 and work again until 6. Then showers, dinner at 7 and clean-up. I am a farmer so this is my day. (The hard part is being the farmer and managing a house as well – but many working women struggle with that problem.)
In the evening I do the pictures for my blog, catch up on messages, personal or otherwise. Do housework then later in the evening I rest. 
This is not an extraordinarily heavy or hard day. Many, many women have harder days. I am not over working and I do not need to take it easy. Maybe when I am 60 or 70 or something I might take it easy but I am a long way from that. This lifestyle is not something I am doing because I cannot work any longer – this is my job. If I chose to leave the country and go back to my former life I could get another well paid job very easily. So I am not farming because I have nothing else to do. The farming,growing good clean food, hosting/teaching young people, the photography and the text – they are my job. It is intensive for about 10 months of the year and in the other two months I travel and write – travelling is an important part of my learning to farm and live better and this is when I have some downtime. 
I have chosen this job. It was planned and organised though evolving. Sometimes I do overtime, but usually it is only a 9 hour day. And if you factor your job and travel time in I bet most of you work or have worked a 10 hour day too. I am not elderly neither do I need extra rest. I am still young. I do not need to take it easy. I am young enough to work all day at full steam with ease because this is my job. I will not wear myself out. I am fit and healthy. I am peaking physically. I am a woman we peak for a long time. The animals and plants and earth and pasture and I are a team. We work together. We are roaring along – not always easily, the lessons are brutal but always we move forward. I planned it this way. I love it. I thrive on it. We manage a kind of symmetry, creating a small ecosystem of our own. The animals and gardens and I. I am a part of a whole. A pivot, true, but part of a balanced whole. The animals and I, and John on the weekends and our resident workers in the summer all contribute to this whole. We are a team. We have our systems and rhythms.
I determine my net worth by how many people I feed a year – how many meals I grow – how many plates I fill – how many hot dinners from my fields and gardens, how many salads and plates of scrambled eggs, how many days the animals feed from pasture and food raised on the farm – how many smiles they elicit: not on how many dollars I feed into the bank. I feed the people who go out and put dollars in the bank – I am part of their chain – their ecosystem.
Just because it is unpaid on a small farm does not mean that it has lesser value than a paid job off the farm back in Europe. Just because it is unpaid and menial does not mean that I should not work as hard as I can and give value for my presence every day. Just because it is unpaid and not in the news does not mean that it is not a serious and valuable contribution to the clock workings of the earth. And just because it is unpaid on the Plains of Illinois miles from anywhere with not a soul watching does not mean that I can laze about on a Monday. Whether I feel poorly or not. On a Sunday afternoon maybe. But Monday is a work day. Monday to Saturday. Work Days. And oh when the sun comes out late in the afternoon then BAM – Miss C is back on board.
There. Said. Jumbled. But said.
Hope you have a lovely day.
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
288 responses to “This is my Job”
Needed saying – hear, hear
I think I sat on a prickle and let out a shriek! c
What I love about your farm is that you have a farm in America without The Industry breathing down your neck. I imagine ( and I could be wrong ) that your beautiful, thriving farm with bugs and shit and worms and animals is surrounded by corn and wheat miles in the distance. A Google map of brown, but this patch of green in the middle, the farmy. A plot of green with animals working the soil. Those plants that are heavily managed with chemical food to grow bigger, stronger, quicker are wishing the cows could graze them. The farm that you farm is not easy in America.
You are absolutely right. Everywhere as far as the eye can see and as far as I can drive for days is brown, empty earth waiting for the corn and beans to be planted – actually some of the corn is just coming up now too. And here I sit right in the middle – the original green patch. It is quite funny when you think a bout it. When I am dead they will run a couple of machines through here and flatten the lot in a matter of hours, till it up and plant a few more rows.. c.
I wish there were more farms like yours. Better for the environment. The health. The happiness. The community. The family.
You must be feeling better…….
Exactly Elizabeth! ha ha ha .. c
Well said. You are engaged in life.
Do you correspond with other women who farm?
Lots of us readers here are strong farm women!!!
Good
and you are our resident scientist Jim!
I like that title. Thanks.
Aw, well stated. And it is very evident you love what you are doing and that is part of the reason I tune in daily. You passion is so very evident. I miss having passion in my work. I used to love it, but now, maybe I am too weary from all the other stresses in my life. AND I think I have your cold now…. Can colds be caught via INTERNET? 😉 I’m drinking some allergy tea from Maine. (http://homegrownherbandtea.com//index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=111_106&products_id=404)
Have a fabulous DAY everyone!
PS For some reason May 5 just popped into my head…… Lady A you think? Day after tomorrow?
Just could be – poor girl she looks so ready but is still grazing happily.. c
You are a valuable member – paid or not paid. Think of how many peoples lives you have touched – some that come to the farm, some that you know in person and the tons of peeps here on your blog. What’s most important in life is not how much money we make but how many lives we have touched. Sometimes humans forget about that. I for one consider it a blessing that we met. See, you even touched this piggies life. Smooches. XOXO – Bacon
Love you little piggie! You have a good Mama.. c
Amen
smiles.. c
to be fully engaged with whatever life you live is the greatest joy. Feeding that life so it can feed you. Mutual. a partnership. Work is Living. In the last 100 years or so, here in America, there has come to be an insidious misunderstanding of so much.
I know many people who do not know where their food comes from – not even the country where their food was grown – pretty scary really.. c
Direct – emphatic – inspiring words. Are these what you used to pull up your boot straps yesterday? Onward ho Ms C!
YES! A lecture to myself.. I deliver great Self lectures.. c
You are full of passion and life. The visitors who come and work with you are learning vast amounts of life lessons. This is a ripple that will spread out and do enormous good. Balance is the goal.
I absolutely agree about Balance – so important.. c
Your feelings were well expressed. I catch flack from a lot of people about their perspective of my life… they seem to think it should be this way or that way – like they know better who I am than I know myself. I used to try to explain, but I don’t anymore. I listen and then thank them for telling me who they think I am or what I do and then tell them frankly, they don’t know me very well. I don’t defend myself any longer. I don’t need to. I believe most folks here understand you… love what you do and respect your ways. It’s a wonderful life that you have. You take us through the ebb and flow of your life. That’s why we are here every day. We are fascinated, intrigued and in awe of this amazing life you live! 🙂
This from the lady who Walks with Deer – you have a fascinating life! c
Yes! Yes, you are a force . Yes, you are known. Yes, you are an inspiration, for those of us in cities as well as on farms, for women and yes, men, and yes, children. I am saving this for my granddaughters and grandson when the time is right.
It took me years, almost a lifetime, to learn about the power of women. It started when at 30 when I started reading. I read “The Long Loneliness” – then “Wise Blood” – and on and on. Soon I remembered the nuns from my childhood. Eventually I remembered my mother, who never “worked’ and who never wrote a thing. The strongest woman . Now I read this blog, looking for strength. For education. For fun. (P.S. This post is another of your memorable poems. Mind if I arrange it that way for my friends?)
I love it when you arrange my words into poetry – of course I don’t mind.. c
Yes! Ditto down here! xoxoxo
Must catch up with you and see how your piglets are.. c
What you posted today is NOT jumbled. It was beautifully written (as always) and so heartfelt. We could all feel the passion you feel about your chosen ‘job in the world’. And I loved the way you laid your ‘job descriptions’ – and it IS a lot. But, as you said, you can do it – and every year you learn more and become an even better farmer than the year before.
When we had our farm in Quebec I was, I think, about your age. I could work my butt off the entire day, although did take a rest on the couch in the afternoon. And…in the spring and fall… I usually only had myself to feed. One of my French Canadian neighbors told me I worked like a man – and I loved hearing it. Another rather grumpy old guy who had lived in Vermont told me, “Tu est ‘tough’”. That also made my day as well. Now I’m in my 60s and I can’t do what I used to – so You Go Girl – you’ve got decades and decades to continue your chosen work!! ; o )
Tu est tough! brilliant.. c
That old pain-in-the-butt farmer would drive up to the barn in his old truck and look in the windows. Needless to say – that DID not make me happy. He was the one who told me that the baby pigs would get bigger and not be able to live in the upside down rabbit cage covered with straw. No kidding Mr. French Farmer Guy – grrr!
Once I was in the barn with the baby pigs when he drove up and looked in the window.
Annoyed, I walked out to see what he wanted. And that’s when he told me I was ‘tough’ – one of the best compliments ever! ; o )
I guess he was just surprised the baby pigs were still alive – LOL !
more thinking, what you Do requires a steady sustained Mindful pace. no rushing. no frantic.
it’s really quite Beauty Full, this
Yes, the steady considered work day – that is how is is now.. c