Switching Gears: From Muscle to Microscope
- Debra Flaming
- Oct 16
- 2 min read
Today marked day four of the dahlia harvest, and what a shift it was! After days of hauling, digging, and lifting crate after crate of tubers, we traded our heavy boots for magnifying glasses and our shovels for scalpels...muscle to microscope. It felt like going from farmers to surgeons overnight.
We finally began processing the tubers for long-term storage—washing, drying, and carefully dividing each clump in search of that all-important “eye.” We strung up the brightest lights we could find, everyone armed with reading glasses cranked up to maximum magnification. I had my trusty stamps ready for labeling, my clipboard at hand for counting, and assumed the role of final inspector.
Finding the right workspace turned into a bit of an adventure. We bounced around from one building to another before finally settling on the old Flaming Acres Grill. Of course, that meant Cathy and I had to sweep years of grill days dust from the corners, don our masks, and reclaim the space for its new mission. Meanwhile, Dion and Steve rounded up tables, chairs, extra lights, and even opened a window for some good old-fashioned daylight.
Once we were set up, we mixed the vermiculate bedding for the tubers’ long winter’s nap and got to work. By the end of the day, we’d successfully processed five varieties—not bad for our first go, especially considering we also had to collect chickens this morning and dig another row of dahlias before the tractor battery gave out. That breakdown turned out to be a blessing in disguise—it forced us to pause, regroup, and establish routines for the processing step which was weighing heavy on all of our minds.
Now we’re finally in a groove, the system is in place, and we’re ready for extra hands. Steve and Cathy have been absolute champs through it all. By late afternoon, hunger won the battle over ambition. With vermiculite still clinging to my fingers, I’m typing this while Dion’s pizza bakes in the oven—a fitting reward for a day well spent.
Sometimes progress comes disguised as a dead battery, dust clouds, and pizza for dinner. But oh, how sweet it is to see those first neatly labeled bins lined up—ready for the long, cozy rest ahead.
Sincerely,
Debra Flaming
