A Spitting Llama, a Missing Chicken, and Two Tired Hands

Week Two at Taft Hill Farm

Good morning from the Green Mountain State.

I can’t believe I’m already halfway through my month here. Time feels like it’s moving both fast and slow. Two weeks feels like nothing in the grand scheme of things, but when everything is so new, it all gets prime real estate in my memory.

April on the farm is a time of cleaning up and laying the groundwork for the new growth to come. Farm beautification if you will. There’s a satisfaction in picking up the pieces left by winter and setting the stage for something new.

Let’s dive into the week.

Tuesday, April 8th

I think I’ve cracked the code on the perfect bowl of oatmeal. Frozen berries mixed into the oats as they’re cooking, a couple pats of salted butter on top, a moat of cream, and a drizzle of maple syrup. Maybe I’ve been Vermont pilled, but I’m very dairy forward these days. No Lactaid in sight!

In the evening, I close up the chicken coop, using my phone flashlight to make sure I can count all 25. The chickens murmur as I walk through the coop and I imagine they’re talking about how rude I am for shining this big light in their faces.

Wednesday, April 9th

After morning chores, Robert Jr. and I direct seed a lettuce mix into one of the beds in the greenhouse. 6 rows, hundreds of seeds, and a fine sprinkling precision that feels like I’m putting flaky salt on a dish.

For the rest of the day, I fly solo and push my muscles to the limit. I pull 2 sleds full of wood chips (which are heavier than you’d think) and a big bag of leaves across the farm to the cow’s living quarters. It’s especially mucky from all the snow and rain, so these will help absorb some of that extra moisture.

Next up, it’s time to move some branches. Robert Jr. pruned a bunch of trees around the property and it’s my job to move them into one of the many burn piles around. Imagine a crossfitter at the gym, but it’s actually me using all my strength to pull sleds full of tree branches and hurl them into a much larger pile of tree branches. As I throw the smaller branches into the pile, they make the perfect cartoon whoosh sound.

In the evening, I get to set one of the burn piles aflame. I would like to state for the record that I start this fire using a Bic lighter and some empty pizza boxes.

Thursday, April 10th

My body isn’t sore from yesterday, but my hands sure are. Turns out years of typing on a computer and clicking a mouse for work has left me with delicate, babylike hands that did not know what they were getting themselves in for.

During morning chores, I get spit on by Benjamin the llama. I find out later that he has historically only spit on the female WWOOFers. Benjamin, noooooooo!

I spend the afternoon pruning apple trees with the help of a pruning chainsaw. While I don’t think I have a use for one of these in my normal life, I’m racking my brain trying to think of one because I’ve never felt more powerful than with this in my hands.

After my brief power trip, I humble myself by raking rocks out of the grass and into the road. Balance.

In the evening, I count the chickens, but only make it to 24. I call Robert Jr. and he says we’ll keep an eye out for the missing hen in the morning.

Friday, April 11th

As I bring the sheep their morning hay, I spot a little lady roaming around outside the fence. The missing hen! Robert Jr. says she’ll fly back over the fence and make her way back to the rest of the flock.

When 5pm rolls around, it’s time for pizza night, round two. It’s the same crew in the kitchen as last week and I’m on sauce duty again. We get into a good flow and crack a lot of bad pizza jokes.

Afterward, I close up the chicken coop, counting 24 chickens again. What?! Where oh where has this hen gone off to?

Saturday, April 12th

Snowy, snowy Saturday. The trees, ground, and animals are all blanketed.

Robert Jr. teaches a sugaring class and I get to taste test the 4 grades of maple syrup again. Also reprised is my favorite part of the class where boiling maple syrup is poured over packed snow and rolled into lollipops. Or, like you can see below, frozen into a bacon-like strip of cold sugar.

There’s no sign of the missing chicken. I really hope she’s out there.

Sunday, April 13th

Call up the paper, the missing chicken is back! Robert Jr. finds where she’s been hiding away — a small shed where bags of leaves from the fall are stored. She has a pile of 12 eggs nestled in there. I guess I can’t blame her. I’d also need some solo time if I had 24 roommates.

I spend the afternoon in the greenhouse where it’s about 30 degrees warmer than it is outside. I deep clean the sink, organize pots and shelves, and hang up string lights.

In the late afternoon, the sun emerges for golden hour.

Monday, April 14th

It’s the first all around sunny day in a while and I am delighted to say it’s also my day off. I drive about 40 minutes west to Manchester, VT and grab an egg and cheese sandwich at Zoey’s Deli and Bakery before my hike on the Lye Brook Falls Trail. After sitting by the waterfall for 40 minutes, I walk away feeling lighter. As if it washed away something I can’t even identify, but was certainly weighing me down.

I buy a Vermont sweatshirt and an acupressure ball for my hands, get dinner at Thai Basil, and drive back to the farm.

Cheers to another week and thank you for reading.

Stay tuned to see if my hands get stronger or wither away.