Partly because of Jenna’s delightful style in a subject I’m immensely interested in, I read the entire book in one sitting – a rare feat for me. Also, the book is filled with drawings by artist Emma Dibben, which gives the work a feel of a children’s storybook. Yet, Jenna’s writing is deep, philosophical and true to her heart.
Jenna chronicles the first year, month by month, on her very own Washington County, New York farmstead, a 6.5 acre dream come true for the previously citified cubicle inmate.
As with most of my reading, I started “One Woman Farm” at bedtime and told myself, “I’ll just read until the April chapter and then turn out the light.” Well, April became June and then August. There was no point quitting then, since the book begins and ends in October, Jenna’s favorite month. I have a greater appreciation myself for the “Days of Grace” month before the snow flies.
The morning after my reading marathon, I could hardly wait to run out to my own garden to ready it for winter. As I cut down brown asparagus stalks and piled leaves in our biggest raised bed, a line from the movie “As Good As It Gets” kept coming to mind. I barely recall the film’s plot, but can still hear actor Jack Nicholson say to Helen Hunt, “You make me want to be a better man.”
Jenna’s book did that to me. After weeks of reading about the Fukushima nuclear disaster, our government shutdown, global warming, Syria, hurricanes, China’s air pollution, and genetically modified organisms in the news, I was beginning to feel hopeless, even losing interest in gardening (unheard of for me!). Jenna’s little book changed my perspective to one of appreciation for all we have now, for next season with even more growing space and for a bug-free October day with dirt-covered hands and knees.
I’d say the book is directed more toward women, but I still hollered out passages to Darren in the other room, usually starting with “Aw, listen to what this little gal says here about …” For example, here’s her description of buying her farm:
“I acquired the place through a combination of luck and pure, unadultered stubbornness. It took a few months of paying off credit cards, pinching pennies, and eating pasta every night, plus a kind and savvy real estate broker, a special USDA program, and a Hail Mary book deal. But I made an offer, and it was accepted.”
Boy, could I relate to that. Although Darren and I were living in the country in 2008, we longed for a place where we could be totally self-sufficient. We had no debt, but, like many working couples, also had no savings. We dared to dream anyway, and less than a year later after selling every heirloom we had on eBay, we found our Ozark paradise.
Jenna didn’t have to go into detail about the naysayers she likely faced when she resigned from a secure job with health insurance and two weeks’ vacation every year. We had them, too. Just like Jenna, we walked away and never looked back. I only wish I’d have had Jenna’s gumption 25 years ago to get out of the rat race. Jenna related to looking at her past life like reading someone’s obituary.
With the fresh enthusiasm of a youngster, Jenna describes her first milk goat and the toned forearms, delicious milk and chèvre cheese she gained from Bonita, a critter that was too ornery for a neighbor’s liking. Born into a middle class family in the city, Jenna is unafraid to ask questions as she learns entirely new tasks like gardening, animal husbandry and to heat with firewood.
“With my brand-new hoe I pull apart the earth and discover black loam and earthworms underneath,” Jenna writes.
By the end of the October-to-October year, Jenna was tending to a hog, rabbits, chickens, geese, goats, sheep, two ponies and three dogs that are all fed before she eats breakfast. As a former farm girl, I understand the time and care required to tend such a menagerie. I love how she describes the cacophony greeting her each morning, particularly after a night of worrying about making this month’s mortgage payment –
“The roosters crow, the chickens strut and coo, Bonita stands up on her metal fence, rolling her head and crying for grain, the pig in the barn snorts, and while the rabbits are quiet in their cages, I know they need their water bottles refilled and they’re waiting for morning pellets. It is a circus and a symphony, and it does not allow self-pity or concern about anything that isn’t happening right now to make 50 animals content.”
I happened upon “One Woman Farm” at our little, local library and since discovered this is Jenna’s fourth book. I’ve already placed an inter-library order for her others and look forward to their arrival. I can already envision comfy nights with a cup of steamy hibiscus tea and the woodstove glowing.
Thanks, Miss Woginrich, for the reminder to savor each day. Now, before it gets cold and dark, I’m heading back out to prepare the garden for another season.
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