4 am

Last week, Fred and I watered all the starts in the hoophouse (which felt like it took the better part of an hour), then worked on a ditch that should help with the run off next winter. I have no confidence with a shovel, but the ground was soft and I found I enjoyed it, though I am not sure my shoulder did. He puttered a little, watering the mint and garlic that ran along the edges, and we sheared all the sorrel at their base, and fed it to the chickens. Who knows why, but the red-veined leaves had grown tough, and not particularly tasty either. We weren’t sure if the chickens would like it, though they did try it out.  

After a short break, we went to Berkeley. It was market day in North Berkeley, right by the Gourmet Ghetto. We set up Jill’s herb starts, Fred’s strawberry starts, and some blue squash. People came by just to touch the bumpy blue pumpkins, and for free samples of microgreens. I realized I was not much of a salesperson. People asked me questions I unfortunately could not answer. I could answer all kinds of questions about the strawberries, but not so much about the herbs, or the microgreens. People were already asking for pepper plants, and tomato plants, though neither of these were ready just yet.

 

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The other intern, Kimberly, and I chatted about yoga, exchanged money, and bagged microgreens. Fred was good at engaging the customers. For whatever reason, we all had friends drop by at the market. We took turns wandering the market stalls and other stores, Fred making trips to Masse’s for cookies, and the Cheeseboard for pizza. A generous soul that one. I think I made it home with squash, kale, microgreens, and a bellyful of pizza that day. 

Towards the end of the day, everyone had gotten a little tired and quiet. I asked Fred what time he got up that day. 

“Late. Around seven.”

I nodded. That was a little late for me too. “What time do you normally get up?”

He smiled. “A couple of days ago, I woke up at four to go harvest kale in the dark for a restaurant order.”

“I could never be a farmer.”

“You gotta love it.”

“What if you get the flu?”

“Don’t get the flu.”

I am not sure about not getting the flu, but I am starting to think I could possibly get up at four myself.

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