But taking care of he chickens was only one of the things I did at the farm. Most of my time, I spent weeding in the garden. But there really isn’t anything exciting to tell about weeding. It’s mostly just annoying, with the roots always braking and never ending, but done right, it also gives an amazing feeling of accomplishment afterwards. Like I’ve done something worth while. Being a student, that doesn’t happen very often. Studying is a very self-centered occupation. It is what comes after that might lead to something good.
But one funny thing about the weeding, though. I would kneel there btöy the garlic plants, listening to Swedish radio podcasts, when I suddenly would dig up a small skull or a small thigh bone. At first, I was a little bit shocked, but then I realised: that’s what’s in Lori’s compost. Leftovers from the butcher shop. Alost everything has decomposed by the time it is put as new soil in the garden, but a few bigger bones and skulls might still be more or less intact. A kind of morbidly funny detail of the gardening work at Whiskey Creek Farm
Katja Malmborg 