Take your daddy to work day

Or, more appropriately, "make your daddy take you to work with him" day. It's only fair when work intrudes on the weekend that you should get to bring your family with you. Danny had a slow-money event that he was organizing at  Marin Sun Farms today (slow-money being the financial equivalent of the Slow Food movement, if venture capitalism were McDonalds). One of the perks of working in Marin is that when you ask your wife if she wants to pack up the kid and come with you to your weekend work event she says "OKAY!" While Danny wooed the wealthy over goat bacon and pastured-egg quiche, Jack and I went down to the creek running right by the butcher shop. There were dogs there, and rocks to throw in the water. Jack was in heaven. I think he could have stayed there all day. I wish I could've gotten some photos of him, the way his face lit up when he was able to throw a rock out far enough to deep it into the deeper part of the water so it would make a nice "sploosh!" sound, but I was worried if I took my hands off him for a second he would go headfirst into the drink. (It was not an unfounded worry. I took one hand off him for half a second and he very nearly did.)

So you'll just have to imagine that part. The next parts of the day I did better recording.



Danny took us on a tour of the ranches, since I hadn't had a chance to see it since he started working there almost two months ago. Jack has been practicing his farm animal noises for just such an opportunity to commune with the cows. I think he was a little disappointed when we got there and they were rather quiet at first, but Danny the Cow Whisperer got them mooing eventually, much to Jack's delight. We took a hike through the rolling green hills and wound up back where the chickens roam. And I do mean roam. They are the free-est of free range, and when there are that many swarming all over grass like a wild herd, they really start to look like dinosaurs. It's probably only because whoever made Jurassic Park decided to use chickens as their model, but it has stuck in my head, nonetheless. Jack was mesmerized. He likes his chickens at home, but there were so many of these I don't think he knew what to do. He just sort of stood there and gaped.

Onward to the next ranch, with private coastal access. We had a lovely afternoon at the beach planned, but the wind had other things in mind. Mostly whipping sand in our faces and threatening to carry us away with it. We got to the beach, sat down for about two minutes, admired the angry frothing ocean, and retreated. Jack fell asleep in Danny's arms on the walk back, something he hasn't done in a very very long time, and made him feel like our baby again for a little while. But he is not a baby, he is a big boy and getting bigger all the time. Before we know it, he will be out there with his dad, hollering at the cows and chasing the chickens back into the hoop house at night. I hope he does get to benefit from a childhood steeped in this agricultural involvement his parents seem to be seeking much later in life. Maybe like the rocking horse, farming is making a comeback.