After Michigan I ran into a family friend who lived in Connecticut, she said she was about to open a flower store and dress shop so she needed help setting up the stores for a few weeks. The day before we arrived it decided to turn into the Arctic tundra and we carefully maneuvered our way into town through 2 feet of snow. Unfortunately that 2 feet of snow caved in a section of the roof so the store idea was aborted. Instead spent a few weeks shifting things around the unopened store, doing a late night mission with their church group to NYC to bring homeless people winter clothing, exploring a few cities in CT, going out to eat, bowling, organizing photos and whatever else you can do while its 30 degrees outside.
Lucky for me the owner of the farm and I weren’t particularly fond of each other so my time spent suffering here was relatively short in comparison to what was originally planned. He had a lot of judgements and preconceived notions about me (mainly based on my appearance, long hair) that were untrue, but it led to dissent in the ranks among the farmhands and I so my departure of course became imminent. There was an odd dynamic between the owner Mark, Scott and I. I was new to the farm so getting the hang of all the different systems, relatively quickly, but not up to the instant standards of the owner was the main bone of contention. Scott would report on mundane and minor mess ups to Mark, but then come to my defense if Mark talked about kicking me out, which I found odd and confusing. But 1 day out of nowhere after Scott had been promoted from farm intern to farm manager he simply left in the night without a word to anyone. So with my backup gone I soon received my walking papers under my cabin door and the next day I booked a bus to St. Paul. I arrived in a -20 degree blizzard and a couple months later left in an incoming -20 degree blizzard, I took it as a good omen. Although I didn’t see eye to eye with the owner I’m thankful for a very unique experience in the Minnesota tundra and all the interesting things I learned while there. It was definitely quite the crash course in intense unforgiving winter farming.
I’m pretty sure while drinking this hot chocolate and eating the strawberry croissant is the moment I had a conversation with a friend who had painted me murals in Richmond. He had just gotten confirmation he would be managing The Hostel in the Forest and invited me to come be the garden manager after hearing news of my farming fail. Tree houses, a lake with a floating dock, outdoor showers, pretty college girls, my own garden, chickens, goats and raccoons, Oh my, sign me up! And just like that the next year and a half of my life more or less was suddenly allocated to the swamps of GA, trust me it’s more romantic than it sounds. So South I headed, stopping through NYC for a few days prior to soak up the spoils of a big city.