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This story starts with a very corny post I read on Facebook.
Taproot Farms in the valley (near Port Williams, NS) had an unexpected surplus of sweet corn a couple weeks ago. So they posted a spontaneous u-pick, inviting anyone and everyone to come glean corn over the weekend.
I love that their invitation didn’t focus on the transaction primarily, it focused instead on not letting a good crop go to waste and on feeding people.
There’s a real possibility I was biased when I read Taproot Farm’s post too! My maternal grandparents were diary farmers. I know that living with them in my first year of life made a big impact on me.
Very few people can remember their infancy, but I have several very clear memories of my first year of life in my grandmother’s kitchen. I remember her working at the sink while I learned to pull myself up against the bars in the play pen on the floor behind her. I remember the sour smell of vinegar that hung in the air while grandma pack shredded cabbage into a huge ceramic vat for sauerkraut.
I took my first steps in that kitchen. I remember that my five uncles would play cards at the kitchen table after dinner and evening chores were finished. One night, I was toddling toward their knees at eye level ahead of me, and one of my uncles smiled down and patted me on the head, “Hey, Little Putter!” As his giant hand gently bopped me on the head, I lost my balance and plopped down on my padded bum, shocking myself and delighting everyone. We all laughed! Grandma’s farmhouse kitchen was my first safe-place-to-fall, and my last one too, for many years to come.
Those were the farm days.
Since then, I’ve lived in many different communities, towns and cities with populations as small as 690 people and as big as 11 million. I haven’t lived on a farm since ‘Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In’ was the number one show on TV, but I love visiting them.
In more recent years. I’ve been lost in the giant corn maze at Noggin’s Corner Farm more than once. (So fun!) I’ve picked apples, pumpkins, wild flowers and berries, but until 10 days ago I’d never picked corn.
It’s something I wanted to try.
It’s 10 days later now and we’re still working on eating, freezing, and giving away corn. But the corn itself is only one part of the whole fun experience!
The best part for me was probably the unexpected thrill of traipsing through a corn field on a sunny Sunday afternoon with rows of corn stalks towering over me and rustling in the breeze. If anything can make me feel like a child again, it’s being overshadowed by giant plants, and plucking something I can eat fresh right off a stalk, off a branch or from the ground.
I shouldn’t have been surprised with Taproot Farms’ Facebook post the following day either because joy is contagious. People don’t don’t always talk about it, but I love it when they do!