The Real Price of Food

Day 2 at the farm, and I'm much worse for the wear. There isn't a muscle in my body that doesn't hurt. My foot muscles are sore from constantly jumping onto a pitchfork andy hands and forearms are stiff from using said pitchfork to wedge out clumps of grass around the borders of the onion beds for what felt like forever three hours.

This was after the 4 hours spent spreading more straw on the top plot. We ran out of straw, but we're still not done covering the field. Then, just when I thought I was done with the hay and in the clear, we had to turn (moldy, wet) hay out from some of the beds so they can plant sugar snap peas and fava beans tomorrow.

I'm a wimp, you can say it. But I now know that local, organic food suddenly seems like a bargain now that I have a tiny inkling of the work that goes into it.