A hard day’s work . . . .

Working on a farm is tough – mornings start early and the days go long. This is the busy season and there is little time to rest and relax. Last night, Sandra told a story that I think captures it best – granted it was in French and Italian with a bit of English thrown in here and there, so I may not have the full picture. What she told was the story of the birth of her 5th son - she said the day was just as any typical day – up early, making breakfast for the guests, cleaning, taking out the garbage, checking in guests, ordering supplies, answering the many questions about cheese, the region and you name it, and then of course making lunch, making and serving dinner and cleaning up. Somewhere around 11pm, she decided it was finally time for the baby to come, she went upstairs to where her midwife was waiting, cleared the clothes and sleeping children off her bed and had the baby by midnight. The next morning, she was up at 6am to start working on breakfast and begin a new day. Sandra is an impressive woman – she is in a constant state of movement and never hesitates to stop what she is doing to make sure that someone else is taken care of. She is fluent in English, French, German, Swiss German and of course, Italian. My guess is that she has a few others in strong command for when the need arises. She is the essence of what makes this farm work – kindness, commitment and an amazing ability to be a chameleon to whatever comes up.

I am writing this during the day’s siesta – sitting on my deck overlooking the rolling hills of Tuscany and smelling the ever present smell of lavender brought in by a lovely breeze. I need these quiet times of reflection; I do not have Sandra’s ability to be hostess, cook and cleaning lady every second of the day. I have learned that I relish my time to be in stand-still, to be alone with my thoughts and allowing my body to be quiet and at peace. I think I used to have more of Sandra in me – always on the go and feelings of guilt when I was not productive. Today, I wish to let go of that person because unlike Sandra, I do not have the ability to be that person and be happy. That was part of the purpose of this trip – to find the me that exists without the trappings of expectation. To learn what is truly important and to find ways to bring that back with me when I return to the “real world”. For now, I will enjoy the moment; when I return, perhaps a whiff of lavender will bring me back when times get tough.