farm dispatch: by ajay
In the corporate world I needed an ID card to enter the building where I worked. On the farm my ID card is knowing which wire fences are electrified, spoiler alert: they all are. In my old life I needed an alarm clock to get up and its the same thing here on the farm except that my alarm clock is a border collie named Gibson and all I have to do to hit the snooze button is tell him to get "his" sheep. The sheep themselves are a lot like my former co-workers, it doesn't matter that they're huddled around a pile of hay instead of bag of bagels in the company kitchenette. The sheep and my former co-workers speak exactly the same dialect.
There's really only a one main difference from the city to the country and it's this. . . you're work is entirely rewarding. It's like taking the sticky plastic cover off of your aunt's Mabell's couch and sitting on it for the first time. It's real. You're hands touch the rich soil and the sun lights up your world like no florescent light ever could. It does take a level of sacrifice to exchange one life for another, even if for just a short period of time. But it's worth it.
Yerba Mate. Google it.