Seniorhood, a farmer at 69

After taking a smoothie of raw ampalaya, turmeric, okra, and pomelo, I wear my gloves, long-sleeved shirt, wide-rimmed hat, rubber boots, and still in pajamas, go to check on a few pigs and native chicken. Turmeric, hot peppers, calabo, tanglad, alugbati, guyabano, gabi, coconuts are growing well. Scissors and bolo in hand, I cut off diseased leaves of bananas, then go to the camote field to pull out weeds. Amused, I tell myself that only detergent is needed to wash my sweat-soaked shirt, beats gym exercise anytime. Before and after my rounds, I take tea of a guyabano leaf, one stalk tanglad, 5-6 leaves of native ampalaya as my natural detox drink.

In between, I read on leaflets about plants and trees, and seek advice from professional agriculturists. I learned that: the best banana suckers to buy are those with already 5 leaves, camote cuttings for replanting should be done within 20 days. It was a surprise to read that the lowly alugbati’s cooked roots treat diarrhea, its cooked leaves and stems serve as laxative, and its flowers antidote to poison, used as food colour and facial rouge! Now alugbati are hanging plants all over the farm.

The present workers benefit most now from these freshly cut veggies for their food. But it is mainly in preparation for the coming senior residents, so that we all eat produce straight from the backyard.

I thank GOD for the cool air, the rain, the plants, the people with me, and sing praise songs as I work. I offer back to GOD the glory of these old but still useful hands, back pain included.

A running joke is that seniors already earned the privilege of doing crazy things — to eat that sugar-laden 2nd scoop of ice cream or bite into that “teeny-weeny” 3rd slice of chocolate cake once in a while, to watch television till 2 AM and wake up at 11 AM, to splurge on a bag or shoes or dress. Well, farming to me is that crazy thing. At 69, I am, happily, a farmer. (Bella A. Sarenas)