achy in paradise

Seriously, my muscles have already gotten larger. I think I'm going to take before and after photos just to prove it. But before I get into that, here's a few stats:

Location: Whidbey Island, WA - about 40-50 miles from Seattle, accessible by car, boat, or adventuresome swimming
Temperature: Not yet above 70 degrees
Daylight: 17 hours and 27 minutes of visible light, most often filtered by clouds
Flora and fauna: Horses, goats, chickens, dogs, cats, humans, grass, potato plants, pine trees, birds, flowers, spiders and spider babies
WiFi access: Available at select locations, including Heidi's Coffee House and the Coupeville Public Library

And as the Coupeville High School Class of '09 primes itself for it's year of preeminence; and as the completely free-of-charge Whidbey Island bus makes it's rounds; and while the local Historical Society decries the inappropriate permitting of a 5,000 sq. ft. private residence to be built within Ebey's National Historic Reserve - as all these reliable successions and outrages come to pass, where am I?

I've currently taken up residence on the second floor of a yellow farmhouse about 20 minutes walk from the town center of Coupeville, WA. Rosehip Farm and Garden, where I'm working, has been in operation for about 8 or 9 years - growing veggies and flowers for local residents. Thirty families participate in the CSA program this year, and we sell at the Coupeville Farmer's Market each Saturday as well.

I share the house with the gals who run the farm - Linda and Valerie. Linda runs the farm, and Valerie works from home as a non-profit consultant. I use their kitchen and bathroom and hang out with their huge Anatolian shepherd, Charley. But soon...oh, very soon...I will have my very own (drum roll....) 16-foot trailer! Complete with kitchenette, microwave, and seating space that all converts into sleeping space. I can hardly wait. As much as I love the comforts of my room upstairs, I have always dreamt of traveling in a camper. While traveling even by compact car is proving to be prohibitively expensive, I'm contenting myself with being stationary in a camper.

Now, I'm sure you're wondering what I'm up to - I mean people don't just get to live in campers and eat farm fresh food all day for nothing, right? Right. So, three days a week, I wake up at 6:30 (I don't believe it either, but it's almost true) and roll out of bed. I do some yoga if I'm good, pull on some clothes, make myself breakfast, and head out into the backyard at 8:00. There I meet up with my fellow farm gals: Linda (head farmer), Theresa (my fellow resident farmhand), Madonna (born before the rock star, after the Holy Virgin), and Luka (who raises goats). Together we do such assorted tasks as: power tilling, mowing, seeding beans, planting squash, staking peas, driving t-poles (into the ground, that is), collecting eggs, and harvesting for the CSA pick-ups on Tuesdays and Fridays. Oh, and weeding. Right. There's a lot of weeding.

So I don't so much go to bed at night as collapse into bed. Even with Wednesdays and Fridays off right now, I'm still feeling the ache of an underused body suddenly thrust into 8-9 hour days of physical labor. But I breathe fresh air every day, eat off the (veggie) fat of the land, and have some kick-ass women to dig into god's green earth with. And there is a guy outside the coffee shop who is power edging while wearing a t-shirt that says "Fair Trade Landscaping and Home Maintenance." Ah, Washington.