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”
When I was a child in Germany there were about 20 small farms like yours in my village of 250 people. On the smaller farms the women did all the work while the men had a job somewhere else . Today there’s one farm with no animals but huge machines that farm the land. I am glad you are raising awareness and educating young people. Keep up the good work.
And now ypur brother has his sheep? Yes? If they hang on a little longer i think all these little farms will come back – we are slowly changing the perspective on small holdings you and I and the fellowship.. c
Not an easy life, but if you can enjoy it, so much the better! I take my virtual hat off to you, Ms. C! And always love your thoughts and especially your photos! xoxoxo
I love taking the photographs – it helps me to really study what is going on.. c
Bloody well said miss c!
Darling girl! c
what you provide in your job for all the folks who sit down at your table or their table is priceless. Precious beyond explaining. We all should have jobs like yours!
I love feeding people.. and I am joyful admitting it.. c
I am proud of you Celi. I read your words and I am bursting with pride for speaking loud and clear. I am so proud of you and your values. I am proud that every day, in some way, I know you are making a change in some ones life. Everything that has happened to you in the years before you became a farmer are evident in the strength and conviction you have with your job. It is the best job in the world, because it is the job you want to do. I am proud of every of you. For what you are. For what you have become. For what you have accomplished. I am proud of you.
That is such a wonderful thing to say – thank you! I am making the lemon tart this weekend for my sister – like your ice cream recipe i think this base will become a regular in theis kitchen.. c
It always make me glow with happiness when I think a little bit of me is in your kitchen. XX V.
Very well said:)
Morning Jo.. c
WooHoo! Sonwthing definitely bit your britches! And on a day where I’ve made had to make the point in my life too. Careless comments. I greet someone at the gate who asks to speak to the farmer. Or those jibes about ‘all your free time’. Or how this is ‘a nice little retirement project’ or how luckly i was to be able to retire early. I didn’t retire early, I had a career change. I tell people that this is my living: some folks make a living by working to bring in cash, others work hard so they don’t need to spend it. I put anout 90% of our food on the table, from this farm and garden. Sales off farm pay the farm expenses including the gas and electric, and bartering provides most of the rest. Cheese, yoghurt, cream and sour cream, bacon, ham, sausage, salami, beef, lamb, pork, poultry and eggs, all the fruit and veg and homemade bread. This is no small accomplishment but food comes so automatically to most folks that it exists compketely below their radar. To their detriment. Viva la revolution!
You are making me so hungry for the milk ! What is that cow doing making me wait so long! c
And very well said indeed! I think what you do is brilliant!
Thank you and have a gorgeous day.. c
Beautifully communicated 🙂 When I wrote The Little Farm Book guide for my niece, that Miss C. is the farmer was expressed right up in the first paragraph. I wanted her to know that.
I don’t miss my paid day job at all. Of similar age to you, I’m often now asked if I’m retired. When I can’t be bothered, I answer “No. Unemployed”. When I can be bothered, I explain my beliefs, activities, plans and dreams that I think make mine and the greater world better.
Ha ha ha – unemployed! Brilliant!! c
Celi – I think each and every one of us knew what you have said today without you having to say it at all. It is hardly accidental that over 5000 people click you on with breakfast coffee! Enjoy you, need you, are taught and encouraged by you. And beautiful Miss C: please never ever use the word ‘menial’ in relation to your life again: OMG, anything but!!! My father was a quietly brilliant man – he taught me from the day I could walk: ‘Eha, 1/3 of what you do is for ‘money’ to look after you and yours, a 1/3 to help those less fortunate and, that done, have the last 1/3 for fun and learnin’ . . . I am much older than you, but the formula still works fine for me . . . retirement: what is that: well, when one is six feet under 🙂 !
I think he must have been making quite a good wage to give 1/3 away to the less fortunate and 1/3 for fun. And not save any. I would love to be able to do that but I can feed many – that is the best i can do.. c
Picked this up as someone had ‘liked’ it and the message was in my box – I was talking about TIME not money: Dad never believed in wasting a moment and brought me up in the same thus manner. The ‘fun’ included time for eating and sleeping and the Arts and friends etc And from the time I was 5 and began receiving pocket money: I could spend 1/3 any way I wanted , had to save 1/3 and give 1/3 to someone less fortunate: to my parents’ absolute shock/horror I did not take baby clothes to maternity hospitals but very successfully ‘rehabilitated’ a few of the drunks begging on the streets!! Honest injun!! But yes Dad did earn more than most: he deserved it 🙂 !!
Lovely post. I have long envied your life. It may not be what I would choose for myself, but it is what YOU have chosen for YOURself. That is something to admire. Too many people (myself among them!) are too afraid of upheaval to make any meaningful changes in their lives, and just carry on with the same old humdrum, because that’s what we’ve always done. You are an inspiration.
P.S. Do you follow theelliotthomestead.com? Her philosophy for farming the land is very similar to yours. Maybe she is one of your readers here!
Don’t be afraid, maybe where youa re is where you are meant to be. Thank you for the link – I will go and see them.. c
Yep Celi, most days you can just smile and pity those who (perhaps purposely) misunderstand your life. Other days you just have to rattle the pans and stomp and hiss. It might not change anyone’s perspective but it almost always helps to vent. And you’re allowed an extra half hour when you need it!
I love the rattle the pots in the sink – I clean the best when i am miffed! c
Lovely assertive statement! Though I am wondering what you are reacting to? Perhaps it’s “back” in the blog: I haven’t been able to follow each and every day as I’ve been so busy! There’s a slightly defensive tone here, but maybe I’m over-reacting to the word “unpaid”. I do understand what you are saying by that word though. Sometimes, no matter how much you love your work or appreciate its value, you just grasp how MUCH work you do and for so little in terms of (objective) compensation. I’m kind of in that place now too, so I’m trying to take stock of the other types of compensation I do receive, which is a lot. And obviously you feel that way too.
I think I am just giving myself a stern talking to – to keep myself in line with my resolutions. For you – As a teacher the “unpaid” areas of life are huge however to do your work properly it kind of needs those extra hours. And your words are so good – I am endlessly educated when i read your blog.. c
I wish this messed up carcase of mine could handle the kind of work you do every day. I did a man’s job, out worked most of the men who “worked” with me, ended up in a position of command and had the men complain that I’d gotten the position because I was a woman. I earned that command position, it was because I knew how to lead, never asking any of the big, strong men to do anything I wasn’t willing to do myself and outdoing them in the bargain. I did all of it as a survivor of polio which I had (mildly, thank God) before the vaccine came out, but which left me with a scoliotic spine and pretty much constant pain. I succeeded in every job I ever had, I worked hard. I had a retail store until the economy crashed and my customer base just about disappeared. The pounding those concrete floors finished off my already messed up knees. I do know you can’t farm in the kind of physical condition I’m in. If it was possible I’d do it. I admire you, I’m very much aware of just how much work is involved in your days. I agree that sometimes rattling the pots and having a good rant helps, sometimes it even enlightens a few people. You’re of tremendous worth – money has nothing to do with it. I appreciate you sharing your days with us all.
I don’t mean to compete with anyone. So sorry about your knees – that must be so hard.. c
It’s not about competition, Celi. Just that I also have dealt with that silly business about doing a “man’s” job, doing it as well (and usually better than any of the men I worked with) and hearing about how I must be given breaks because I was a woman. And, yes, messed up knees and a messed up back are maddening to deal with.
I mean competing with the men. You just work alongside and work as hard as you can and did very well.
You do not exist, you contribute to the world, you participate directly with the most basic needs of humans. Many many people with great paying jobs are just existing and pretending it’s good.
Most of us are living lives of disguised desperation. (sorry Thoreau) We disguise the unsettled feeling of disconnect from the direct relationship to our survival with THINGS. Phones and clothes and sports and TV shows and cars and just stuff. We need money to disguise the unsettled feeling. You on the other hand – are living a life more satisfying. You are in a direct relationship with your (and other people’s) survival. It’s primally satisfying I would imagine. And its valuable.
I am certainly not desperate – that is for sure and I do remember those desperate days.. c