Monday 5.8.17
All day greenhouse work! Started the day with some greenhouse cleaning/organizing.
- Swept floor and organized trays, flats, pots etc.
- Seeded sunflowers, asters,
The ravens have been attacking and killing the adult broiler chickens …need to learn how to use a pellet gun.
Wednesday 5.10.17
- Harvested the Ranunculus, which are almost done for the season.
- Transplanted stock, amaranth and snap dragons at the land trust.
- Weeded (dill)
- Planted dahlias
Today was an emotionally intense day day at the farm. During morning harvest, Mar was informed that their full-time intern quit unexpectedly. From my experiences on multiple farms, I have observed that employees are one of the hardest aspects for farm owners. Depending on the scale of the farm, employees are often the biggest expense. To find folks that are the right fit is a whole other challenge.
Then, I got the call mid-morning that my grandmother had passed.
After speaking on the phone with multiple family members, it was decided that I would fly out the next day.
My abuela, Amalia Maria Salazar Herrera, would have been 92 in June. She had 6 kids. Five sons, my dad being one of them, and a daughter. My auntie Lola (short for Loyola) lived with my grandmother for as long as I’ve been alive. And my aunties daughter, my cousin and nina, has lived with them for a long time too, in that traditional multigenerational way. They all lived in a little house in the north valley of Albuquerque – the same house that my dad grew up in. There were always rose bushes in the yard and food cooking on the stove.
My grandmother died in her home. In her bed. Surrounded by family. Her hands were folded on her stomach and there was a single rose tucked into her palms. As she was carried out of the house, each family member present formed a line that wove throughout the house and into the street and said their individual goodbyes, some blessing her with holy oil. Before exiting the house, her face was covered and she was driven away. “This house is never going to be the same,” my auntie told me later, through tears.
My grandmother was a complex woman. Loving and doting, funny and mean too. She certainly had a temper. I sat around my aunties table the day after I got into town. There was a dish of posole and chile on the stove. I am going to miss my grandma’s red chile.
My youngest uncle and two of my cousins were there. We sat around the small, circular table in the kitchen and shared stories and cried and laughed cursed the radio station for playing rancheras about moms (it was the day before mother’s day).
It was a beautiful but very difficult trip.
