Monday, June 1, 2009
My final paper is floating around in cyberspace somewhere and I officially have two months off school! That time is already spoken for by too many things to list, but right now I am focused on a 3-week trip to see my family in Utah. Besides the obvious benefit of seeing my friends and family, there is the added benefit that Robbie gets all that time to work on the house uninterrupted!
Since I leave Friday (send positive thoughts that I will survive a plane ride alone with two babies. Or send some strong tranquilizers), Robbie and I have been working feverishly to finish the garden. I will post pics tomorrow, but I am pretty proud of all we've done so far. And Robbie is especially proud that all the neighbors stop and comment on his artful bed-making skills. I thought two rectangles would be good enough, but apparently not for him.
Speaking of gardening, we recently went to a local farm to get heirloom starters and it turned into quite the adventure.
When we pulled up to "Destiny Farms," we saw a large house that had so many strange additions it was almost Escher-esque. We finally found the owners in a maze of gardens, greenhouses, several chicken coops and a couple of ponds. The husband, Mike, his twin sons and the customer he was currently serving immediately swarmed us as we walked up the garden path. I'm used to questions and comments about the boys' albinism, but these people wasted no time in bombarding us with every question in the book. Besides feeling overwhelmed, I was cringing at one boy who kept jumping up and down screaming, "Their eyes are so cool...I want a baby with white hair! I want one of those!" I knew he meant well, so I didn't say anything, but situations like these always make we wonder how I will react when the boys are old enough to understand. Which for Emerson is coming soon.
Anyway, Mike was exactly the kind of guy I picture when I think of small farmers - missing several teeth, smells like grease and manure, wears faded jeans with holes in the knees, has an easy-going manner and of course, has a look in his eye that suggests he's just a touch crazy. In fact, Mike reminded me of a younger version of my late Grandpa - who once owned his own mish-mash of a house and gardens. That's why, despite his lack of tact, I instantly liked him.
He took Robbie around to see the plants and offered him a wealth of information while I struggled to placate the kids. After we loaded up on plants, his wife took us around to see the chickens, including some amazingly beautiful exotic breeds and a few pheasants.
As we drove home in the milky pink dusk, we talked over our adventures that night:
Robbie: Mike told me that he spent a year in a coma when he was younger.
Cassi: How did that come up?
Robbie: I don't know.
Cassi: Did you ask him why he was in a coma?
Robbie: Yes. His response was, "Well, have YOU ever known anyone who's pituitary was crushed?!"
- pause -
Cassi: That's a very strange response. What are you supposed to say to that?
Robbie: I don't know.
That exchange left me laughing and puzzled at the same time. I'm not sure why, but that story seems to explain a lot about Farmer Mike.
In any case, we'll definitely be back next year.