The day started like most others—up at 5—horses to feed, Sprouts to prep for, cheese orders to organize, payroll to make—but things took a new course mid-day and by 2:30 my car was packed and I set out for Burlington, VT where the American Cheese Society was meeting.
Having been an ‘enthusiast’ for years, an aspiring cheesemaker for a few less and a certified farmstead cheesemaker for two, I decided it was time to step up and join a professional association. Although not more than a blip in their statistics, this was a big deal for me . . . another acknowledgement that I consider myself a cheesemaker (guess there’s no turning back now that we’re also published in the new Artisan Cheese Atlas—even signed my first two autographs!)
I wasn’t looking forward to a 5 hour drive but it would be good decompression time for me…I ride with a pen and paper by my side—much to the dismay of staff and Karen who accuse me of thinking too much, causing the already too long list of to-do’s and new ideas to expand exponentially. My jotted notes are usually incomprehensible by my arrival—I spend the evening trying to decode my short hand and scribbles as I remind myself of these thoughts and inspirations.
I chose the highway over the local route. As soon as I crossed the Vermont border, the scenery changed (for the better). The pine trees lined the roads, so thick that I felt like I was driving in a green luge—my vehicle speed appropriate for the sport. What is it about broad views, vistas, sunbeams and sunsets that take your breath away? No matter how many times you come over a hill and see landscape that stretches forever, how many burning balls of fire that set in a matter of seconds tucking behind mountains—how come we never tire of the view? I find it intoxicating! So the tedium of the drive was broken up by these special moments and I managed to stay awake despite exhaustion.
The disconcerting part was driving along VT 91 and seeing signs marking rest stops with “WiFi access!” Comforting on the one hand that in the middle of nowhere/no cell service, I could unpack my laptop and catch up . . . but it didn’t seem to fit with the pastoral landscape.
I suppose this push/pull feeling is parallel to what I feel in farming—on the one hand, I want to retreat into my own world, commune with nature and live simply. Yet I also feel compelled to be public and push the ‘mission’ which leads to anything but balance or a simple life. How do I reconcile this dichotomy? Not sure that one does but that’s for another blog . . .
But back to the road trip . . . I’m whipped from being up since 5am, juiced to be off farm, stimulated by the ideas that streamed in during this alone time, bewitched by the scenic views, hungry for lunch and dinner, jazzed by the anticipation of the upcoming conference.
I checked into the hotel, got some well deserved sleep and looked forward to the morning’s round-table breakfast meeting, keynote speaker and networking in an environment where what I do is not considered odd!
Time for shut eye—more tomorrow.
-Lisa
It really is striking that crossing that state line -north into VT from Mass - coincides with such a change in topography. In most cases (meaning other than ski season weekends) one also finds an anaolgous change in traffic and co-travelers - a little bit of decopmression helps the landscape.
Posted by: Nick | August 08, 2007 at 07:36 PM