Farming and Time Management

     The day was chock full before it started.
     By nature I am an early riser, though I prefer to leave myself room in the first hour or two as my days are those I enter from a grounded, silent beginning. (Not to mention, mornings are when the best writing hits.) Of course, some days don't afford me that luxury. Today was one of those days.
     First a farm hand, next an intern, now an assistant, I am strategically adding talent to the mix with skill sets long overdue for a full time farm operation. The reason this has now become necessary? My lack of time management skills.
     For the record, I decided to start gardening for two reasons:  1) I was double dog dared to make a Southern cookbook that didn't involve heart attack food; 2) my father passed away and I didn't feel like doing a lot of things I was once driven to do.
     With these to incentivize, I came home to the town of my birth, decided to try my hand at full time country living and began this journey with some misguided picture of Henry David Thoreau's Walden years as my guide. (Granted HDT didn't have a smart phone, nor had he seen the movie Julie and Julia, but modern technology seemed a minor alteration; turns out they change the formula entirely.)
     What I anticipated were long periods of silence, meditation and reflective writing.
     What I got was another full time job added to the many hats I was already wearing.
     In a nutshell, I came home to grow a garden, take some pictures, learn to can things and get on with the next cookbook. (In case you haven't noticed, that book's not out yet. It's got a pretty cover and we know what's going in it. I've just not blocked the "butt-to-chair" time to write it until now.)
     Meanwhile, adding to the mix of selling the others (which involves warehousing, reprinting, invoicing and other lovely business things I find less fun than creating). Now I add "farming" (which at first I took on laughingly, but immediately got hooked on).
     As a matter of true confession, I will admit: I've taken farming for granted. I think our whole planet has. "The food will always be there" and "How hard could it be?" played in the back of my mind. (I didn't say these things out loud, but clearly I must've been thinking them for I had no idea how time consuming it was to become.) The good news is, I like it. And I want to do more of it. What's more, I sense the whole planet is starting to take note. You don't have to be a doomsday prepper to sense it would behoove us all to know a little more about where our food comes from and what we are putting into our bodies. After all, our survival gene was handed down. Here of late they're calling it "sustainable living".