OBSERVATIONS OF AN ORGANIC FARM
If you notice, the title says Observations of AN Organic Farm. That means the particular farm I worked on and its ideocycracies, not all organic farms.
Now, to answer a question I am sure is at the forfront of your minds, ‘How did I end up working on an organic farm for 3 weeks?’. Well, there are quite a few logical reasons actually. The most important reason was that I needed to conserve money before I moved to Spain. Luckily, Gill, my friend from New Zealand, who I worked on the farm with, did some research and found out about something called W.O.O.F.ing. It stands for, Working on Organic Farms. There is a huge network and organization apparently that helps farms find workers and vice versa. In exchange for work, the owners of the farms give you free room and board. Every sitution is different, but we lucked out to in that the owners of the farm only wanted 4 hours of work in the morning and a little help in the evening with dinner if there were guests, they also ran a Bed & Breakfast. As nice as the place and the owners where, I did of course observe a few things that compelled me to write these following observations.
1.) The promised healthy living of the Organic Farm was a huge draw for me. The last week in Latvia, due to an ordering error, we were served Sausage for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I was so tired of the sight of sausage that I had to close my eyes when I went to take a pee. I needed to cleanse my system and figured an Organic Farm was the perfect place to do so. I even decided to become a vegetarian during my time on the farm. Only had meat twice in the 3 weeks I was on the farm and rarely had eggs. In saying that I have attempted to live a vegetarian lifestyle, I must say that....Ain’t no way in hell is it natural to just eat fruits and vegetables!!! Now just hear me out to all the Vegans and Vegetarians out there. Run your tongue over the bottom and top middle 4 teeth of your mouth. Feel that edge? It’s God’s way of saying you need to eat some meat! I mean, especially in the States we have far too much meat in our diet. However, you at least gotta eat some chicken and fish once in awhile. Caring for animals and their well-being is comendable. But, I almost died trying to eat nothing but vegetables for every meal! You can have muscles, or you can be a vegetarian, you can’t be a vegetarian with muscles. If that was the case then all the great athletes of the world would be Vegans. I was walking around day dreaming about meat. People would ask me questions and I would answer in types of meat. “Good morning Carl. How do you feel today?” “BBQ Ribs!!” “Carl, did you finish mowing the lawn?” “Fried chicken!!!!” It was like I was posessed by KFC or Big Tim’s BBQ stand.
2.) In saying it isn’t natural to be a vegetarian, I will say eating meat takes on a completely different meaning when you help feed and care for the animals that get eaten. They had about 11 or 12 sheep on the farm. Feeding them wasn’t my job, but if they were in their pen when I walked past I would take a handful of hay and handfeed them. It was cool. I even got to know a few by their names. Being a Cityboy, I just assummed they had sheep for their wool. I mean, who would name their sheep like pets and then kill and eat them?? One day, the owners Kris & Steve said they were going out to “process” Henri. I thought process meant sheer......Well it doesn’t. That night at dinner, the guests were served lamb. Being that my brain was suffering from a lack of protein, it was operationg at a slower pace than usual. About halfway through the meal it dawned on me....They were eating Henri!! The guests I could forgive, but Kris and Steve knew him like I did. It was like sitting next to some cannibals. They were eating a friend! And why did they have to eat Henri! Sheep by nature are retarded animals, but Henri actually recognized me and would walk up to me and let me pet him. They should have eaten Tony! All he did was spray shit all over the place and cause stampedes with all his running around if you so much as looked at him. You don’t kill the strong!!
3.) One of my duties on the farm was to gather eggs from the hens and feed them everyday. Ok, Imma tell you right na...I was afraid of the chickens and especially that Rooster. How come no one ever talks about how big Roosters get!? The chickens would just be waiting for you at the door to the enclosure when it was time for feeding. That movie Chicken Run kept running through my head. It was like they were keeping watch, and then would start clucking and running around when I walked up warning the others to hide the plane. Getting the eggs wasn’t too difficult if you fed the chickens first. Sometimes though, they would start to brood. Brood in normal people speak is when the hens want babies and don’t get up off their eggs volunterially. For Gill, it was no problem. She was raised in the New Zealand country so nothing daunted her in the least. She would just go in the coops like it was nothing just pushing aside chickens like she was a Jamaican Dundada. I on the other hand had my own method.....The Scared Negro Method. I mean, I was going into a small enclosure with an animal that wanted to have babies and I was taking her eggs. Females are irrational by nature, and then to go messin’ with their kids!? I found a big ass tree branch first and took it in the coop with me. The hen didn’t move at all, but just sat their glaring at me...”Now what in the hell does he think he is going to do with that stick?” I told the hen straight up,”Aiight naw. You can at crazy if you won’t. We are in an enclosed environment, so if you make one move fight or flight is going to kick in like a motha. See this stick? I will beat yo ass to death save myself if you force me to. So get up off dem eggs before I haf to hurt cha. Gone naw! Stop playin’!” Laugh if you want to, but I know at least half of you all would have done the same or not gone in at all. Tell the truth! And fresh eggs don’t look anything like FRESH eggs from the chicken. Eggs come from the asshole of the hens. So they all have blood, shit and feathers all on the eggs when you first get them. I know that was a big part in me not eating too many eggs while I was there also.
4.) Lets stay in this chicken thing for one more observation. I want to know who first started the lie that Roosters crow in the morning? That is the biggest myth on a farm. You know when Roosters crow? Anytime yo ass is trying to sleep! I think it’s the hens complaining to the Rooster about us taking their eggs, so he has to do something to save face with his females, so he just crows at all hours of the day, 3am he crows, at 7am he crows, trying to take a nap at 2pm he muthafuggin crows. Not just one cockle-doodle-doo either, but over and over and over. I got to the point that I would lay awake in bed waitin for the damn Rooster to start crowing. I think he did the same thing with me, but he waited for me to go to sleep then he would say, “Showtime!” I got my revenge though before I left. One night, I snuck outside and threw a handful of rocks on the roof of the coop. Scared the shit out of those chickens. Figured it was even after that.
5.) It seems to me, that people who run organic farms are more accepting of certain pests and animals than the average person. One night, the owners and a couple of their friends sat around after dinner telling rat biting stories. As in stories of when they had been bitten by rats. I swear! One story, the owners of the farm I worked on KNEW they had a rat but didn’t do a thing about it. They figured all God’s creatures could live together in harmony. Now black people are some of the most churchified people I know, I would bet you a kidney, and your lungs that ain’t no black people willingly living with any rats even if it had a name tag on it saying one of God’s special creatures. Only after the rat ate all the insulation around the Frig did they then try and kill it. Before it died it bit one of the owners. Of course I had no sympathy. You let the rat stay there like it was your sister with her 3 kids! You let a cat hang around, maybe a small dog. Ok, ok, on a farm owls in the barn are fine…but a rat!? Think about all the diseases they have!
6.) Another one of my responsibilities was feeding the rabbits. No, I am not afraid of rabbits, but in saying that, those rabbits were big as hell. Matter of fact, they weren’t even rabbits but hares. Yes, to all the non farm people, there is a difference. Rabbits are cute and small and you want to pick them up and pet them. Hares are big with freaky red eyes and huge back legs that look like they could put a dent in your forehead. Hares though are meek animals, it wasn’t them that this next observation is about it’s about feeding them. The owners said to feed the hares, certain grasses and plants and stay away from others. I would put the name of the plants and grasses but I can’t even begin to spell them. For Gill, it was easy. She knew the name of everything so it took her 2 minutes to fill up a bucket with edible stuff to feed the rabbits. When it was my turn?? I was out there for hours. How in the hell was I supposed to know what was harmful or good? I would wander around the garden scratching my head examining every blade of grass wondering if it was safe or not to feed the hares. I would be terrified that the next day I would go out to the catches and all the hares would just be stiff from eating poison berries I had given them.
If you notice, the title says Observations of AN Organic Farm. That means the particular farm I worked on and its ideocycracies, not all organic farms.
Now, to answer a question I am sure is at the forfront of your minds, ‘How did I end up working on an organic farm for 3 weeks?’. Well, there are quite a few logical reasons actually. The most important reason was that I needed to conserve money before I moved to Spain. Luckily, Gill, my friend from New Zealand, who I worked on the farm with, did some research and found out about something called W.O.O.F.ing. It stands for, Working on Organic Farms. There is a huge network and organization apparently that helps farms find workers and vice versa. In exchange for work, the owners of the farms give you free room and board. Every sitution is different, but we lucked out to in that the owners of the farm only wanted 4 hours of work in the morning and a little help in the evening with dinner if there were guests, they also ran a Bed & Breakfast. As nice as the place and the owners where, I did of course observe a few things that compelled me to write these following observations.
1.) The promised healthy living of the Organic Farm was a huge draw for me. The last week in Latvia, due to an ordering error, we were served Sausage for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I was so tired of the sight of sausage that I had to close my eyes when I went to take a pee. I needed to cleanse my system and figured an Organic Farm was the perfect place to do so. I even decided to become a vegetarian during my time on the farm. Only had meat twice in the 3 weeks I was on the farm and rarely had eggs. In saying that I have attempted to live a vegetarian lifestyle, I must say that....Ain’t no way in hell is it natural to just eat fruits and vegetables!!! Now just hear me out to all the Vegans and Vegetarians out there. Run your tongue over the bottom and top middle 4 teeth of your mouth. Feel that edge? It’s God’s way of saying you need to eat some meat! I mean, especially in the States we have far too much meat in our diet. However, you at least gotta eat some chicken and fish once in awhile. Caring for animals and their well-being is comendable. But, I almost died trying to eat nothing but vegetables for every meal! You can have muscles, or you can be a vegetarian, you can’t be a vegetarian with muscles. If that was the case then all the great athletes of the world would be Vegans. I was walking around day dreaming about meat. People would ask me questions and I would answer in types of meat. “Good morning Carl. How do you feel today?” “BBQ Ribs!!” “Carl, did you finish mowing the lawn?” “Fried chicken!!!!” It was like I was posessed by KFC or Big Tim’s BBQ stand.
2.) In saying it isn’t natural to be a vegetarian, I will say eating meat takes on a completely different meaning when you help feed and care for the animals that get eaten. They had about 11 or 12 sheep on the farm. Feeding them wasn’t my job, but if they were in their pen when I walked past I would take a handful of hay and handfeed them. It was cool. I even got to know a few by their names. Being a Cityboy, I just assummed they had sheep for their wool. I mean, who would name their sheep like pets and then kill and eat them?? One day, the owners Kris & Steve said they were going out to “process” Henri. I thought process meant sheer......Well it doesn’t. That night at dinner, the guests were served lamb. Being that my brain was suffering from a lack of protein, it was operationg at a slower pace than usual. About halfway through the meal it dawned on me....They were eating Henri!! The guests I could forgive, but Kris and Steve knew him like I did. It was like sitting next to some cannibals. They were eating a friend! And why did they have to eat Henri! Sheep by nature are retarded animals, but Henri actually recognized me and would walk up to me and let me pet him. They should have eaten Tony! All he did was spray shit all over the place and cause stampedes with all his running around if you so much as looked at him. You don’t kill the strong!!
3.) One of my duties on the farm was to gather eggs from the hens and feed them everyday. Ok, Imma tell you right na...I was afraid of the chickens and especially that Rooster. How come no one ever talks about how big Roosters get!? The chickens would just be waiting for you at the door to the enclosure when it was time for feeding. That movie Chicken Run kept running through my head. It was like they were keeping watch, and then would start clucking and running around when I walked up warning the others to hide the plane. Getting the eggs wasn’t too difficult if you fed the chickens first. Sometimes though, they would start to brood. Brood in normal people speak is when the hens want babies and don’t get up off their eggs volunterially. For Gill, it was no problem. She was raised in the New Zealand country so nothing daunted her in the least. She would just go in the coops like it was nothing just pushing aside chickens like she was a Jamaican Dundada. I on the other hand had my own method.....The Scared Negro Method. I mean, I was going into a small enclosure with an animal that wanted to have babies and I was taking her eggs. Females are irrational by nature, and then to go messin’ with their kids!? I found a big ass tree branch first and took it in the coop with me. The hen didn’t move at all, but just sat their glaring at me...”Now what in the hell does he think he is going to do with that stick?” I told the hen straight up,”Aiight naw. You can at crazy if you won’t. We are in an enclosed environment, so if you make one move fight or flight is going to kick in like a motha. See this stick? I will beat yo ass to death save myself if you force me to. So get up off dem eggs before I haf to hurt cha. Gone naw! Stop playin’!” Laugh if you want to, but I know at least half of you all would have done the same or not gone in at all. Tell the truth! And fresh eggs don’t look anything like FRESH eggs from the chicken. Eggs come from the asshole of the hens. So they all have blood, shit and feathers all on the eggs when you first get them. I know that was a big part in me not eating too many eggs while I was there also.
4.) Lets stay in this chicken thing for one more observation. I want to know who first started the lie that Roosters crow in the morning? That is the biggest myth on a farm. You know when Roosters crow? Anytime yo ass is trying to sleep! I think it’s the hens complaining to the Rooster about us taking their eggs, so he has to do something to save face with his females, so he just crows at all hours of the day, 3am he crows, at 7am he crows, trying to take a nap at 2pm he muthafuggin crows. Not just one cockle-doodle-doo either, but over and over and over. I got to the point that I would lay awake in bed waitin for the damn Rooster to start crowing. I think he did the same thing with me, but he waited for me to go to sleep then he would say, “Showtime!” I got my revenge though before I left. One night, I snuck outside and threw a handful of rocks on the roof of the coop. Scared the shit out of those chickens. Figured it was even after that.
5.) It seems to me, that people who run organic farms are more accepting of certain pests and animals than the average person. One night, the owners and a couple of their friends sat around after dinner telling rat biting stories. As in stories of when they had been bitten by rats. I swear! One story, the owners of the farm I worked on KNEW they had a rat but didn’t do a thing about it. They figured all God’s creatures could live together in harmony. Now black people are some of the most churchified people I know, I would bet you a kidney, and your lungs that ain’t no black people willingly living with any rats even if it had a name tag on it saying one of God’s special creatures. Only after the rat ate all the insulation around the Frig did they then try and kill it. Before it died it bit one of the owners. Of course I had no sympathy. You let the rat stay there like it was your sister with her 3 kids! You let a cat hang around, maybe a small dog. Ok, ok, on a farm owls in the barn are fine…but a rat!? Think about all the diseases they have!
6.) Another one of my responsibilities was feeding the rabbits. No, I am not afraid of rabbits, but in saying that, those rabbits were big as hell. Matter of fact, they weren’t even rabbits but hares. Yes, to all the non farm people, there is a difference. Rabbits are cute and small and you want to pick them up and pet them. Hares are big with freaky red eyes and huge back legs that look like they could put a dent in your forehead. Hares though are meek animals, it wasn’t them that this next observation is about it’s about feeding them. The owners said to feed the hares, certain grasses and plants and stay away from others. I would put the name of the plants and grasses but I can’t even begin to spell them. For Gill, it was easy. She knew the name of everything so it took her 2 minutes to fill up a bucket with edible stuff to feed the rabbits. When it was my turn?? I was out there for hours. How in the hell was I supposed to know what was harmful or good? I would wander around the garden scratching my head examining every blade of grass wondering if it was safe or not to feed the hares. I would be terrified that the next day I would go out to the catches and all the hares would just be stiff from eating poison berries I had given them.
These are all I have... my backback containing my travel journals was stolen in Madrid and these were all I could remember about my time on the organic farm. Hope the person who stole it gets crabs and two broken arms so they can't scratch!
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