What’s on the Schedule? What’s on Your Plan?
April, 2022
A little over a week ago, I was contemplating the efficacy of using a heavy rock to outfox a fox in the chicken run, when my husband came over to see how the new stormwater management system worked after two days of torrential rains. Once satisfied that the drainage system was functioning as it should, we took a walk and stumbled upon huge divots in the ground. The divots were remnants of a soil test sight where the environmental engineers originally thought rock beds would be needed to hold excess water. It turned out the extra run off area wasn’t needed, so we were stuck with two, approximately 6ft x 2ft trenches composed of dirt, weeds, and rocks. In the middle of the grass, there was now hazardous terrain for people and farm vehicles alike. My husband looked at me with an incredulous smile and said, “What are you going to do about these?”
Hmmm, good question. What was I going to do with them? I looked around and took stock of natural resources nearby. Then, it hit me. When life gives you ditches - you make hugelkultur! Hugelkultur is a type of permaculture which allows us to work with the earth using logs cut from felled trees and positioning them to recreate a forest floor ripe for growing. Composted fruits and vegetables, goat and chicken manure, and discarded hay is then added to the wood piles. Any gaps left in the wood are filled with twigs, wood chips, dry leaves, and other organic matter. This “filling of gaps” is an important part of the hugelkultur process as the goal is to create an environment for roots to take hold and find a home – not gophers and groundhogs. (Although, that may be a blog for another time: me vs. gopher, Caddyshack style!) Finally, I add either upside down sod and/or just topsoil and mulch. In the case of these particular beds, just topsoil and mulch. The decomposing wood provides the nutrients needed to grow delicious vegetables and herbs.
Satisfied with my solution to fill the ditches left by the engineers, I planned on getting to work in a few days time to build two hugelkultur mounds- one for various types of mint and another for perennial flowers to give some color to the landscape.
Or… so I thought. The thing about making plans when you have kids with unpredictable illnesses is that plans get altered abruptly. Schedules change. New appointments have to be made, doctors and psychiatrists consulted, and treatment paths must be weighed and implemented. My plans were no longer in my control. I was needed. The few days of building the hugelkultur beds turned into a slow moving week plus with fits and starts of heavy lifting and Tetris style maneuvering. When I got to the point where I was stuffing crevices with twigs and compost I started to get into a meditative rhythm, filling holes I couldn’t see. I could feel the beds starting to solidify beneath my hands.
And then, just when I was sure I was close to creating the perfect foundation, a large hole I hadn’t anticipated opened up. A big section of my handiwork caved in, revealing a porous cavity underneath the wood. Throwing my hands up, I put on a half smile, another playlist, and went back to work.
I am frequently awed by how our lives reflect nature and the wisdom that can be imparted through this reflection. Digging that day was one of those times when I was struck by how invisible illnesses and invisible holes will continue to disrupt plans, and I, like all parents who share this path in life, will pivot and adapt. Sometimes begrudgingly, sometimes with grace. In a state of constant unpredictability, I continue searching to fill the tiny crevices and find solutions for hazardous ditches. I try. I fail. I make progress. I plant gardens and keep hope that the roots will hold.
Helping Friendly Farm is intended to be a place for families to learn their own lessons from nature without judgment or expectations. How it plays out remains to be seen, but I am excited for the possibilities.