![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2myyRr9:
Hee, those farm stories have been saving my life lately.
Oh, I have another one from this last visit. So there are signs all over as you enter towns and such in New York that say “Right To Farm Life Law” and I never knew what they meant, and I still sort of don’t– but I think it’s to do with the ordinances allowing for agricultural activities. I’m gonna Google it after I finish here.
Anyway. So. one of the days i was there, after Farmbaby was dropped off at her Montessori Pre-K (where she is thriving, my goodness, I’ll endorse their weirdo methods of teaching anyday!! even if she hasn’t learned the names of the letters), Farmsister and I loaded up the truck with all the trash and recycling and went to the town’s dump and transfer station. (It costs $80/mo to have them come take it away, so Farmsister does it herself.) This was somewhat dirty work, so she was wearing her Carhartt jacket covered in dirt, and her giant rubber boots coated in chicken and pig shit.
She meant to change prior to leaving the house, but got distracted, and it was only after we’d finished dropping off the trash that she looked down at herself as she walked into the nice suburban grocery store (which is the closest one to her house; the farm’s not really all that rural). “Oops,” she said, and knocked her filthy boot against the curb to dislodge some of the dubious mud. Then she shrugged. “Right to Farm Life, right?”
Then we bought a cabbage and she pretended like I had to buy it for her so nobody would know she, a vegetable farmer, had bought a vegetable. (Cabbages are storage crops but hers had run out, it’s already March, okay? You can’t make a cole slaw without some form of cole. At least we bought an organic one.)
OK Right To Farm laws are as I suspected, shielding agricultural practices from adverse regulations and nuisance complaints. I doubt pig-shitty boots are included but hey.
Hee, those farm stories have been saving my life lately.
Oh, I have another one from this last visit. So there are signs all over as you enter towns and such in New York that say “Right To Farm Life Law” and I never knew what they meant, and I still sort of don’t– but I think it’s to do with the ordinances allowing for agricultural activities. I’m gonna Google it after I finish here.
Anyway. So. one of the days i was there, after Farmbaby was dropped off at her Montessori Pre-K (where she is thriving, my goodness, I’ll endorse their weirdo methods of teaching anyday!! even if she hasn’t learned the names of the letters), Farmsister and I loaded up the truck with all the trash and recycling and went to the town’s dump and transfer station. (It costs $80/mo to have them come take it away, so Farmsister does it herself.) This was somewhat dirty work, so she was wearing her Carhartt jacket covered in dirt, and her giant rubber boots coated in chicken and pig shit.
She meant to change prior to leaving the house, but got distracted, and it was only after we’d finished dropping off the trash that she looked down at herself as she walked into the nice suburban grocery store (which is the closest one to her house; the farm’s not really all that rural). “Oops,” she said, and knocked her filthy boot against the curb to dislodge some of the dubious mud. Then she shrugged. “Right to Farm Life, right?”
Then we bought a cabbage and she pretended like I had to buy it for her so nobody would know she, a vegetable farmer, had bought a vegetable. (Cabbages are storage crops but hers had run out, it’s already March, okay? You can’t make a cole slaw without some form of cole. At least we bought an organic one.)
OK Right To Farm laws are as I suspected, shielding agricultural practices from adverse regulations and nuisance complaints. I doubt pig-shitty boots are included but hey.
