Working at Chestnut Charlie's

Guys, I am SO sore.

For the past four days, I have been picking chestnuts at Chestnut Charlie's, a local orchard about 4 miles from our home.  I randomly stumbled upon a "help wanted" ad for picking chestnuts in the classified section of our local food Co-op's monthly newsletter while sifting through some junk mail a few weeks ago, and thought it would be fun to do some seasonal work while getting paid per pound for what I picked. The nice thing about working for Deb and Charlie at the orchard is that I gave her my availability and then showed up. My schedule is so not consistent week to week, so this worked out great for me. 

These little guys are all over the orchard floor! Fuzzy little caterpillars. 

My first day was Friday. Picking chestnuts is unlike anything I have ever done, and it is quite possibly the HARDEST work I have done. Going into it, I really didn't think there was too much to it. How hard could it be to pick up chestnuts and burrs from the ground and separate them? Well, after four days of squatting and bending over forwards, pulling wagons and lifting buckets full of chestnuts, and walking around the orchard for hours, my body HURTS.

It's a good hurt, full of satisfaction at a job well done, but oh it's worse than the minimal muscle fatigue I felt after winning my half marathon four years ago. As I sit here typing this post, I can feel the energy zapped from my body and my calves, glutes, adductors, hips, and low back all need some serious TLC. 

While this has been the hardest physical work I have ever done (I was never the girl to go work outside in the yard with dad on the weekends), it has done wonders for my emotional sanity. Each time that I have gone to the orchard to work, I have given between 3-4.5 solid hours of work. We are assigned a row or section of a row of trees to work our way down, and although there are workers on other rows, it is quiet and serene. While I am working, my mind is quiet. There is no stimuli going into my ears or through my eyes--just the simple task of picking up chestnuts. I'm also not required to give any attention to others. It's just me and nature. Maybe it's my inner drive to clean things up that makes it so therapeutic to pick up the nuts and burrs. I think it's the fact that I have the chance to just BE. This is probably why the great masters and leaders over the centuries have praised the act of meditation. It clears the mind and allows the spirit to renew. 

And while I have cried short-lived tears of utter fatigue, I have been emotionally happy and free from any sense of depression this week. It has been amazing. 

Oh, and I also earned a respectable chunk of change. Just another reminder to me that God is looking out for each one of us. 

Mom and dad, you should be proud. I am wearing a hat. Not that I liked wearing it or anything, but I sure liked it better than mosquitoes and ticks and chestnuts falling on my head :).