It's hard to remember where I woke up today. But it was at Chelsea's. I woke up in time to get to the farm for the interview, but I woke up after Max had returned from work. He must have immediately started going to town on his new girlfriend, because I could not get his attention to tell him that he was blocking me in. Half an hour later I find his keys in a box next to the front door, and off I go. It is a good test drive before my trip back to Cabot tomorrow, and like a madman I make it to the honey farm just in time. From there my mom and Harvey pile into my car and we drive 15 minutes to the prospective employer's homestead.
It is perched on top of a hill, nestled on all sides by other hills. The day is grey and rainy; this is March weather in February. Standing next to the pond the sky seems to surround the farm. They have over 100 acres and have plans to purchase another 100. There are pastures, forests, and springs all around. It is a modest building for a bakery, like a longhouse; it has a packaging room, a kitchen, and what seems to be a temple to the oven. They say it reaches 900 degrees and can take 72 hours to cool to 350. The walls of the oven are several feet thick and it looks like some sacred beast. It has a heart chiseled from an old church above its door.
First I meet Brian. He seems firm yet thoughtful. I soon discover he is a philosopher. We exchange life synopsis'. Then I meet Amy and I can now be relieved that neither one is as pretentious as other's I have known. We talk for about an hour and then go to look at the high tunnel greenhouse's which are for sale. It is fun to dream... and more fun when you can dream with a belly full of yummy bread.
After looking at the greenhouses we looked at one of the "shacks" which hires can live in. It is a simple yet elegant one room tiny home. There is a chair, a desk, and a bed. My mom says it is just like Van Gogh's room. Except there is one extra desk and the bed is a bunkbed. This would not be hard to change. But then I glimpse another "shack", but it is across the pond and up a small hill. It sits in a field of overgrown pasture and the treeline is just behind. I wonder what it looks like inside. Hopefully I can find out tomorrow.
I was invited to a second "interview" tomorrow morning for a bake. I am nervous, but maybe that is because I do not want to invite too much excitement. I am slow when raising my hopes. My sails are heavy, but ready for any storm.
When we returned to the honey farm I cleared out a space in one of the barns for my stuff. It felt good. Restoring order to chaos is so satisfying, even if it involves sweeping rotten fiberglass and buckets of raccoon scat. But now I have one small corner in my new life to call my own, even if it is just a dark corner in some rotting barn's attic.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
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