We Bought a Farm: WWOOFer Perspective by Deborah

Deborah was our youngest WWOOFer ever at the farm. At not-quite-sixteen, she did a fabulous job and shares below from her perspective how the two weeks went for her.

I'm writing on one of my last days, during dinner, one of the busiest times! And I can't deny that even though I am surrounded by friendly faces and my newest friends, I feel pretty melancholy. I'm leaving tomorrow, and I'm far from ready.

I wanted to write this so any potential WWOOfers (volunteers) who wanted to give it a go with a little insight on the matter, could. Unless you're incredibly brave, you will be nervous. The funny thing is, so is Wendi whenever a new WWOOFer joins the farm. But her kindness and go-with-the-flow manner will calm you down in no time.

The chores seem like a steep mountain you'll never be able to face, but as you climb, you'll find the peak isn't that far away. My advice is to focus on one thing at one time, one part at a time. (My favorite chore is probably taking care of the broiler chickens. I loved running the path back home after caring for them.)

My advice would be don't expect anything to go according to plan and always be ready to
jump up to help. I had a lot of little "adventures." If you've worked on a farm before, they might not seem so epic, but to me, they were in fact great adventures.

Firstly I was teleported back in time on the farm as I hung my laundry on a clothesline. Moving the sheep and pigs was fun too. Looking for eggs, like a treasure hunt, especially the guinea nests was also a highlight.

There was also a rescue mission both with a guinea and a chicken being chased by the dogs. I ran from upstairs to downstairs booking it after them!

And my favorite memories: finding a baby bunny in the grass and saving a chick's life. A storm left all the chicks freezing and dying, and it looked like we were going to lose a lot of the 40 birds. But slowly, one-by-one, they all revived -- except two.

John and Wendi kept telling me those two were goners, and my heart broke. Then like an angel, Wendi told me I could try to save them. Grabbing the worst, I got to work, wrapping the chick in a towel, I used the only method I knew to warm it up. I blew constant puffs of hot air onto its back, and when that was dry, its stomach. Still, she wasn't responding, but I wouldn't give up. The other chick had already warmed up and was peeping, but still the little chick I was working on, wouldn't open her eyes.

Suddenly she peeped!

And then just like I thought before, I knew she'd make it. My constant blowing had left me light-headed, but it was all worth it, she lived! I named her Tarzan.

So there's a small taste of the constant surprises and needs on a farm. I hope you're satisfied with this WWOOFers viewpoint.

Love,

Deborah

P.S. I loved having my own room upon the rare occasions I actually spent my break in there instead of hanging out in the house!