Transplanting

     For the better part of Thursday we transplanted. Transplanting is a good representation of the work we do here- it’s a simple and direct contribution to plant production, specifically organic in many ways, and repetitive and uniquely exhausting.

     Having never participated in the production side of conventional farming, I have had a hard time extricating the more organic of our practices from those any farmer would do. Of course, a lot of what defines organic in our current food system is the prohibitions – pesticides, genetically modified seeds, hormones/antibiotics for animals, etc. However, more ideally, organic is a positive designation broadly defined by synchronization with nature. (I won’t get further into ‘organic’ right now, but maybe will come back to it later. In the meantime, see Michael Pollan’s “Omnivore’s Dilemma” for more detail).

     In this light, a lot of things we do can be viewed as cool strategies for harnessing nature rather than clever tricks necessary in the absence of chemicals. Transplanting is one such naturally advantageous practice.

     A week or two ago, we seeded a variety of plants. We set up a number of trays for each plant, in which we put those divided black plastic ice-cube-tray-looking things. Each hollow is filled with soil and given 1-2 seeds. Thus there are something like 72 seedlings per tray, and something like 6-10 trays per variety. Summer squash, zucchini, cucumbers, lettuce, sweet potatoes are all seeded mid-June. After two weeks spent coddled in the warm and damp greenhouse, the seedlings have sprouted. By spending the first days of life this way, the seedlings are strong and healthy to move outdoors. This benefit is important to organic farming especially, because plants that are stronger are better at resisting natural hazards in the absence of chemicals.

     In preparation for transplanting, Bill tilled the soil and laid black plastic with the tractor on several rows in the field. Tilling aerates the soil and kills the weeds. The black plastic is another commonly organic practice- by quarantining plants within healthy soil, it dramatically reduces weeds and pests. The number but simplicity of steps we followed to transplant the seedlings lent itself to an elegant and efficient division of responsibilities. Faced with clean black plastic rows, the first step is to cut X’s at regular intervals in two staggered lines. Benny led the line with a 2.5-foot stick and knife to cut the holes. Next, Alex followed with the gardening shovel to dig holes. Tiff followed him with a bucket of Cheep Cheep- ‘dehydrated chicken litter’ (organic fertilizer), of which she tossed a handful into each hole. I followed and mixed the cheep cheep into the loose soil with my hand. And lastly, trailing behind, Laura transplanted one plant into each hole and covered with the removed soil. As one person threatened to outstrip another, s/he transplanted briefly until the balance was restored.

     We started in the morning rain and finished in the searing afternoon sun (interrupted by a restful hour-long lunch-break). Like most tasks (weeding, harvesting, pruning), transplanting is repetitive and not physically demanding. The labor comes from the heat and duration of the task. We never work aerobically, but we work all day. Bending and kneeling in the soil, carrying or dragging things, and simply being in the sun/rain/bugs culminates in an exquisite exhaustion that peaks just in time for the day’s end at 5. A casual poll revealed that I am the only one sore the next morning (still recovering from months at my laptop in Mansueto reading room).

     This pace and type of work by rights should be numbing, but manages not to be. At times we convivially chat and joke, and much the rest of the time we recede into our respective thoughts or ipods. We transplanted for most of that day, but more often we don’t do any single thing for more than a couple hours and take refreshing trips in between in the back of the pickup truck. We are always working, it always transparently contributes to a tangible goal, and we are always done when the day ends. Combined with the fuzzy feeling of the pureness of organic practices, and the ample time for extracurricular research (and writing, napping, cooking, reading), this type of work makes for an exceptionally pleasing lifestyle.