The attendant at the farm store stared awkwardly at us. “We don’t carry harry vetch here.”
“How about winter rye?”
“No sir. But we do have rye and a few other seeds you could use.”
We exited the seed store with three different kinds of seeds. The next question: how do we mix and spread them?
We pulled out the handbook. Our desire was to plant our first cover crop.
“The manual says I’m supposed to go 10mph to spread the seeds evenly.”
We both nodded. It sounded fast, but it was a lot slower than we drove in Florida.
Taking a big stick, we stirred the seeds in a plastic container like cake batter.
After months of research and days of clearing the field, it came down to this: the day we would actually move from the noun farm to the verb farm
Tom climbed aboard the tractor and as I prayed. He leaned back, put the tractor in gear, and took off.
Who knew 10mph on a tractor compared to driving on the autobahn? Tom flew across the field bouncing up and down like a cartoon character.
Stated like a children’s book, “Tom farmed.”
The next line would read, “But nothing grew.”
We’re still moving to the noun farm and going to do the verb farm.
We need better batter.
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