Lets start a farm in the middle of the desert

A lot of back and maybe not enough thought went into breaking the earth. It started with placing spikes to outline the placement of roads, plots, water lines, etc. Their placement into the ground was not always a trivial matter as evidenced by a number of mushroom headed spikes that had the misfortune of being between caliche six inches thick and a frustrated person with a hammer.

The water line trenches and plot #1 were spearheaded by some sort of tractor that seemed to force a six inch wide chainsaw into the ground to a depth of about two feet. Cuts so precise that, later after hours in the sun perhaps without enough water, I would remark as cold and impersonal. I did not see this step of the process; it having been accomplished by my historically stalwart father in law in the mid day sun while I was in a library braving paper cuts whilst studying. So steadfast in his work ethic that he did not notice the lights on in the cab of his truck all day. That was my first physical contribution to the farm - driving for a half hour to jump-start him at sundown.

This was about three weeks ago. We got the water lines up and eventually functioning. We tilled out plot #2 - unsuccessfully. Then we dug out plot #2 by shovel and pickaxe. We created a playpen for the farms namesake - our rambunctious daughter Sofia to deliver/scream orders from. Then finally we buried fence a foot deep around plot #1 in anticipation of dropping about 150 various heirloom tomato starts into the ground.

Through the promise of free food, beer and perhaps a little camaraderie we mustered half a dozen friends who helped us plant. It was a great day to do so - warm yet overcast enough to hide the sun without making the surrounding dreary. Every plant was in the ground by the end of the day, 160 feet of trench dug out for additional fencing, and a latching gate was eventually installed with a debate as to whether or not it opened the right way.

And voila: if a farm was not made it had at least begun. Two 40'x40' plots with room for at least half a dozen more. Maybe someday a fig and citrus orchard, 20 chickens cackling as a doe and her kid mill about the place keeping the shrubs in order. While the seemingly limitless possibilities of three acres of land can be inspiration the realities of digging two foot deep trench by hand quickly grounds one: Lets see some vegetables before we start shopping craigslist for a milk cow.