Am I really a farmer?

Some days it just doesn't feel true. I feel there should be some stipulation that you can't call yourself a farmer until you've been doing it at least five years. Making a living at it. Sure we farm, but do we really know what we're doing? Somedays it feels like not so much. Like yesterday. Even Clover seemed out of of it. It felt like I hit the wall running. Sometimes I'll question why on earth am I trying to be a farmer. Why. Do I really like my back and arms aching all the time? Do I really like having ten million things to do in one afternoon for work, and then come home to ten million more things to get done at home? Do I really like washing off a thick layer of dirt and sweat, sunscreen and muck, pulling off ticks, and then crawling to the kitchen at 9 to fix dinner? hmmm. I guess through all the negativity there is a light that says yes, I do love farming. Somedays are just worse than others. The beauty of it all is that usually apathy has no place in farming. The plants and soil come before our own penchant for moody self-absorption. But I do say usually. There are days for sure, like yesterday, when the wall gets hit and self-pity envelops me for way too long. Maybe it's because our dryer has been broken for three weeks and our laundry pile is higher than our manure pile on the farm. We were finally able to hang clothes outside (been rainy here for a while) so I guess starting such a task is a little daunting. We'll have it done soon.
Maybe it was the lisianthus that got me down. Lisianthus is a beautiful flower that people can't seem to get enough of, but let me tell you, what a time-consuming princess of a flower this one is.

Here she is at almost five months old. Yes, I kid you not. Grows slower than a baby I think. Our bed of this flower got weedy with the row cover over it and I had to hand weed the whole bed. I was close to saying goodbye to the lizzy for 2008, but since I had already spent an obscene amount of time with it (not to mention money on seed), I decided to suck it up and get down on my knees for the princess. This year I feel confident in saying we probably won't be making any money off of lisianthus. I am slightly excited to see how the four varieties we have differ in color and form. We're trying carmine mariachi lisianthus which should be a deep hue of pink. excellent. I'm sure when it blooms I'll craftily forget all the pain it put me through and think of it as one of my favorites. Oh the beauty of selective memory.