Ok to be completely real I don't remember where i left off on my wwoofing journey, just that I've been so exhausted at night that I play my silly little games then fall asleep so deeply that I don't remember turning a full 45 degrees in the bed. Oh and drooling a lot. But based off my pictures, I don't believe I've introduced the homemade pesto and farro pasta to y'all yet and golly am I excited to ramble about it ad nauseum.
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The next morning was a rainy one, which turned into a downpour afternoon, so Gretel and I stayed inside and mixed paints to refinish the fireplace surface with a new tint - something a little darker and earthier. I loved the joke she made as I used a fine brush to cover the edges of walls: How is your Sistine Chapel going Michelangelo? Little did she know I would see it in just a few days' time hehe. After painting was finished, we reorganized the wood storage shed and I rebundled all the tangled and knotted string that we had used random bits and pieces from to tie together the reeds I had cut and dried the night before. To be honest, I wasn't completely feeling myself this day, and often while working wondering if I was cut out for this much work - nonstop, continuous improvement, barely resting, barely enjoying myself. It was moments like this that gave me some doubt for the future that I wanted to create. Was I built for physical labor? To be continually productive and always thinking of the next thing to do? Or maybe I was just trying to perform and be the best houseguest and wwoofer I could be, and overextending myself in the process to please Gretel and achieve my totally normal to want and possible to achieve hope of being her favorite wwoofer. All I know is that I was pretty sore, pretty moody, and pretty quiet this day, and I hoped tomorrow would bring better days.
And better it absolutely did. It was ridiculously sunny and bright when I woke up, and I was feeling much less sore and much more excited (weather-dependent mood?? Couldn't be me...) The morning began with some cutting of smaller branches and organizing them into bundles in the wood shed, when up rolled Gretel's neighbor (vicino, thanks Duolingo) and his handy-dandy tractor, ready to split the wood that had been awaiting a sunny day. Together, Sandro and I lifted logs upwards of 20 lbs (in which case, I could see his surprise and me biting my tongue from staying "strong woman!! FARM????" to both me and him) ((see the meme that I reference at least once a week here)) onto the splitting platform, where a pedal would drive the hydraulic axe arm down, easily cutting into the wood like butter and splintering it wide open. Who needs a lumberjack when you've got me, Sandro, and this adorable ass farm dog who came tongue wagging tail spinning running after the tractor that Sandro drove up the dirt road?
including a screengrab of the cloud in case the video doesn't work again :")
From there, Gretel and I stacked two hefty columns worth of freshly cut logs. Slaps the tin roof of the wood shed: this bad boy could fuel the fireplace for two months!
feat. the reeds I cut and bundled up hehe ğŸ¤
something I thought a lot about while splitting the wood though was how similar wood is to us. They also bleed (usually a clear, interstitial fluid type of water, probably the wood's xylem and phloem being cut, but in one case there was a wood that literally bled red, right on the edge near the bark just like humans do); they have an inner core that's super fibrous and looks very much like bone periosteum, and are layered in the way skin is, with the outer epidermis (bark), a meatier dermis (the older wood), all the way into the center where the bone marrow is (newly generated wood growing new rings each other). It made me think a lot about pain and death, and if vegans are right after all - everything that we eat that is living is bad. Plants release distress signals just like animals do, and have complex structures and communication patterns just like any other species. who are we to decide what we eat or not?
That's definitely a thought to keep mulling over. For now, I strongly believe in eating what my body needs, which includes vegetables and meats and dairy and not manmade poor substitutes that only partially mimic what nature creates in abundance. I do think there's a responsibility to consume ethically and regeneratively, and only eat what can be replenished and taken humanely, but I'm sorry, I cannot give up good food, especially cultural.
Thoughts of pain in plants and the definition of being aside, I soaked up so much sunlight and sawdust and energy that I felt completely recharged. My body was sweaty and stinky and heavily worked, but I felt good. Like this is what my body was made for, lifting logs and cutting grass and pushing wheelbarrows and laying on a warm stone wall like a lizard post hard work with a fresh orange and bottle full of cold well water. It made me think of a post I saw once saying something along the lines of "come over and do hard physical labor while I sit in the shade watching you appreciatively with a glass of lemonade". it's me, I'm both. I loved that morning.
I also had a little vanity photoshoot in the sun with the pergola in the background and pride and prejudice in my lap but that's all enjoy a few shots here:
i'm at the part where Mr. Collins proposes to Lizzy and 🤢
My friends are right. I. Am. Glowing. I haven't been this happy and this at peace in a long time, and it's showing on my face and my body. I feel better, healthier, and I am excited for the future and life and all the memories and connections that I'm making. I'm back to me again <3
After a delicious lunch of baked potato and artichoke pancake (a must-repeat recipe), I set off on my afternoon task: building my first very own fire, and repainting the fireplace with our newest made paint tint, by adding a bright cadmium yellow watercolor pan, owned by Gretel's late mother who was also an artist (and met her dad teaching an art class!! In Rome!!) I'm happy to report that I succeeded in both :3
my babyyyyy - and another bingo board item checked off ✔
Evening brought a little rainy road trip to Casa Vespina, where Gretel's neighbors mill and process the spelt that she grows into her flour in 25 kg, 5 kg, and 1 kg bags, where I got to meet their chickens, cats, dog, and eat a delicious homemade egg cream courtesy of Marguerite, one of the owners of the agroturismo biologica farm. It's named Vespina after the dog that originally lived there, that ran back home even after the original farmers (and owners) moved away, and was happily adopted by Marguerite and her family. She has since passed away, but Gretel spoke lovingly of her incredible soul, and how well she was loved by her humans and chickens alike.
That led us to my last night at the home, where over a glass of wine and leftover potato pancakes, Gretel and I talked about her life thus far, her journey post divorce and recent break-up, and the self-love that she has cultivated as she took on this farm independently and built a community amongst her neighbors and fellow organic farmers. She told me about her experiences as a WWOOF host and the people that have come through, the crazy stories and the good ones, and memories and connections she's made, and the lifestyle that she's built and certainly inspired in so many, including me.
That day was a beautiful one. One where I felt all my doubts from the day before all melt away, after a few hours of hard work in the sun and a multiple forms of accomplishment, all tied together with meeting neighbors and sharing in beautiful conversation (where I understood maybe every tenth word like ragazzi and padre) and settling into a calm night of reflection. I am built for this kind of life, this world that I've dreamed of, and a few moments (or more) of doubt will not stop me anymore.
I'll be back to pet you all you want, Secondo! And lounge with you under the pergola on sunny days.
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