Month 1 Week 3

The Matriarchy

“Oh, sit girl.” May bustled around the kitchen grabbing the empty dish Dara had tried to help clear away and replacing it with a tray of warm baked sweets. Something flakey and buttery with a hint of fruit and nuts. “Just you have a bit of this and focus on your studies. You must be exhausted from your travel, coming all the way from the capital to our town.” Dara glanced between her ersatz tutor in all things farming and his jovial wife.

“Stop your fussing.” Esep scolded playfully. “She’ll gain so much weight she’ll be unable to actually work her fields.” The ever-cheerful May feigned feeling insulted and danced away through the kitchen, the yellow gold light of morning glancing off her dark curls.

“It’s not so bad.” The young woman assured her hostess. “I flew up on a courier bird. The trip was much faster than had I come by ground.” And terrifying. Dara shuddered thinking of the heights and speed at which the giant bird had traveled and May gave her a knowing look.

“That be as it may, traveling saps your energy and you need to rejuvenate afterwards with delicious treats. Also,” She put her hands on her hips indignantly. “You see what I have to put up with?” She demanded of Dara as she turned to the dishes in the sink, light, and shadow playing a game of tag around the curves of her dress and apron, accentuating the soft roundness pregnancy had brought to her features. “No manners on this one.” The older, woman called over one shoulder as she worked, nodding her head at her husband. “And now that we’ve children together, I’m stuck with him.” Her gentle smile and the utter adoration in her eyes told Dara that none of her harsh words toward her husband were serious or meant to be unkind.

By the way the couple laughed together at that complaint it seemed as if it was a game, they played with each other. Uncertain whether it was acceptable to join in, Dara smiled politely and waited for the two to come around to business. This home was a happy one though and Esep’s supposed crash course tutelage was continually being interrupted by one thing or another, be it one of his children scrapping a knee or asking for help with a chore, or this weirdly loving banter between him and his wife.

“She loves me anyway.” The older farmer confided in a not so conspiratorial voice which though it brought no retort from May, did elicit a loud “Harrumph” and a clanging of dishes from that direction. “Now to the business at hand. Trying to turn you into a s…successful farmer.” His tone was doubtful, and he didn’t quite hide the stutter of disbelief.

When Dara glanced up at his tanned and weathered face, he pointedly did not meet her eyes. She could tell he did not believe he could do it.

“Yes. Me as a farmer.”

“Well, that’s settled then.” With an explosion of energy, the sandy-haired man grabbed three books off the chair on the far side of him and dropped them onto the perfectly clean yet very worn hardwood table. “Farmer’s almanac for the Northern Reaches. You’ll just be at the southern edge of it. Any scheduling or timing for crops or livestock you’ll need to do will have to account for the difference. Don’t trust any information you get from the Matriarchy until you check the conversions yourself.”

“This,” He placed his hand on a blue leather-bound book with oiled copper clasps holding it shut. “Is a breeding and propagation journal. It’s for developing your own herd and produce lines. Some people call them herd books when just used for one particular type of livestock. I’ll be giving you your own at the end of this training but first I’m going to walk you through mine to show you what proper documentation can do for you. And this,” he opened the last book as he spoke, it was well-worn without even a proper cover, the pages simply began with the paper being glued together all on one side and rounded, dogeared or torn on the others. “is a general overview of farming with a list of commonly bred species of plants and animals, their diseases, and how to care for and treat them.”

“It’s not as large as I would expect it to be.” Dara mused aloud.

“Ha!” Esep slapped a hand down on the table and Dara noticed the callouses on it against the grains of the wood. “That’s because they used the smallest typeface possible. See?” He pushed the open book over to her to show it had indeed been printed with terribly small letters. But as she looked the page over, she saw that this page had to do with apple trees; pruning, flowering, fertilizing, cloning, and some magical way of growing more than one type of apple on the same tree which was referred to as grafting.

“I see.” Her eyes flowed over the words being drawn down the page with the torrent of information that was trying to flood her mind. Absently she turned the page after reaching the end.

“I see we’ve got a lot to do in a little bit of time.” Esep stopped her hand when she went for the next page. “Let’s get the basics covered and then go from there. When we get the book studying done May and I will take you out to the herds we oversee and the rest of the farm so that you can get a feel for how it’s all done for a few days before you head out.”

Inheritance

So You Want to be a Farmer?