One thing I don’t like about farming on a small scale like we do is the financial insecurity. I don’t really like to talk about it, but I feel that it’s important to. There’s a lot of publicity given to small farmers these days in the mainstream media, but nowhere did I see any discussion about this crucial aspect of farm sustainability (well, maybe except from people like Wendell Berry, but he's not exactly mainstream).

It bothers me a lot that we work as hard as we do, doing something that is so important and good for our community and society (not only providing healthy food, but also, more importantly, taking good care of the land and other resources in the process), and yet, despite being as successful as we are, we have to feel chronically insecure about the money situation. I said that we are successful, because we have a thriving CSA and in general excellent customer feedback, as well as a yearly waiting list. We have more than enough demand for the product of our labor, our crops do very well, our vegetables look and taste great, we take good care of our soil, and so on. By those measures, we are successful.

The financial insecurity I’m talking about is not just our experience. All other small farmers I know of either have to have off-farm income, or, they barely make it through the winter, scraping pennies together until next season starts again

Most people try to help us by suggesting we sell to more venues. The problem is not that we don’t sell enough, but that on a per hour basis, we get paid peanuts for what we produce.

This is not right. Ed’s always talking about the need to increase prices to a level that would reflect the true cost of production of the food we sell. But if we did that, I’m afraid that we’d lose most of our customers. Because whether we realize it or not, we, in this society, want cheap food - that’s what we’ve bee taught to expect. Supermarket food seems cheap enough (and that is one benchmark we, small farmers, are held against, whether consciously or not), that is until you count the cost of pharmaceuticals needed to mitigate our cheap-food-related illnesses, and the costs we all pay for the damage cheap food production causes to our soils, water, air, and the environment. If you count all that, cheap food would reveal its very expensive cost.

I try not to dwell on the financial thing too much, although it’s hard not to; I focus on why I love to farm and that keeps me going.  Also, I am encouraged by the fact that our farm is doing better each year, and is becoming more sustainable in many aspects. Although, if we looked at what Ed and I get paid per hour for all the work we put into producing the food we sell, it’s quite discouraging. Last year it was about $6 per hour, and this year it probably won’t be much better. As far as I know that’s normal for farmers like us. A few years ago, when we worked for Pratt and Whitney as engineers, we got paid more like $40 per hour; we didn’t work nearly as hard, and our contribution to the well being of society was questionable. I don’t need to be paid $40 an hour. But fair compensation would be nice.

One day when I was out in the field, I had a thought that made things clearer. I reaffirmed to myself that I’m not farming to make money, but I also realized that I do need to make enough money to be able to keep farming (unfortunately we too need to pay taxes, car insurance, etc....). I’m farming because I love to take care of the land, and because, like Sena said, “we want to teach people about the earth so they can help the earth”. I think that these are good reasons, and hopefully all else just falls into place.

inspiring and authentic

check out this blog:
it's Amy, a woman my sister and i know - very inspiring.

woke up on Thursday morning from a deep dream, with peter gabriel's opening lyrics to "secret world" playing in my head:

"I stood in this sunsheltered place
'Til I could see the face behind the face"

went out to the field to harvest for the CSA, and it was a beautiful morning, and it felt exhilerating, all the while, the lyrics playing in my head. it's been like that on and off since then. i realized that that's what i'm doing, looking for the face behind the face. i don't know what the meaning of these lines is for peter gabriel, but for me, looking for the face behind the face is about the search and slow unveiling of that undefined, but powerful love that keeps me going and that i sometimes get glimpses of.

years ago, one of my sister's friends, also my friend, said in a discussion about work that he hated physical labor, and i agreed. today, it occurred to me that my body is the only gift i have to offer. i feel that i am given so much, and the only thing that is truly mine and that i can honestly claim to give is the labor, effort and love of my body.  so i've come to see physical labor in a different way, not as something demeaning or as some kind of drudgery, but as one way, one form of offering gratitude.

speaking of physical labor, i've been spending lots of time and effort this week tanning a sheep skin. some friends dropped off 6 sheep skins at our house on the weekend, because they had a feeling i may be interested in them. they raise sheep for meat and butcher them once a year. if i didn't want the pelts, they'd be thrown out. i accepted them, and decided to try tanning one of them myself, using the brains, which they also dropped off. i've been reading about brain tanning, and had some experience with the rabbit skin. as for the other 5 pelts, i gave one away to another friend, and salted the remaning 4. i plan to send them off to be professionally tanned at the end of the week.

the kids have been excited about this, and felt inspired to resume work on the rabbit skin they started weeks ago. they worked it for 2 days, and it came out really nice, fluffy and soft. they're very proud of it, and take it everywhere they go. their girl-friends are mostly disgusted or scared of it. they are not afraid or disgusted by the meat on their plates, or the leather in their garments. that's what i'm talking about. anyway, sena doesn't care, she's proud of it and continues to bring it to gymnastics, etc.

the sheep skin is on a different scale than the rabbit. it's a lot bigger and a lot more work. i got to it as soon as my friends dropped it off on saturday. i scraped off any pieces of meat or fat clinging to the skin (there wasn't much, the butcher had done most of this). then i washed it, and got all the dirt out of the fleece. i hung it outside overnight, and on sunday the girls and i started scraping it with rocks, and then rubbing the brains into the skin. the brains are supposed to make it soft and pliable, and they do. but you have to work them in really well, and keep scraping all the while. yesterday and today we did more scraping and working in brains. the last step will be to dry the skin through friction, which means rubbing it against something hard, like a big stone or a wire or a piece of wood, until it dries. this was the hardest part with the rabbit skin, and i expect it to be harder with the sheep. although, i am pretty encouraged by how supple the sheep skin is already just from working in the brains. the girls want to use it as a rug to sit on in front of the fire in the winter. but ed told me today that he's not snuggling down with "that thing". i guess he's not impressed.

two pictures of aiyana with the rabbit skin and her latest missing tooth.

peace

fall equinox today. a beautiful time of the year. when everything starts drawing inwards, preparing for winter sleep, and renewal.
we've just had the most beautiful fall days, crisp and sunny, warm during the day, cold in the morning and at night. the leaves on trees have started to turn, and sometimes, when the wind blows they come down in a golden shower that looks magical. i love this time, it makes me burst with joy to be a part of it.

Last night I put the kids to bed and I just lay in my own bed crying.  Sena and I had been reading a story about the history of the Lenape Native Americans, Quakers and English in Pennsylvania in the 1700’s. It was heartbreaking. For me, history is often heartbreaking, and I have a hard time teaching it to the kids. I just don’t know how to teach in a detached manner. History seems full of people mistreating other people, lying and deception, killing and betrayal. It’s all about power, and more often than not it is written by those who won. So it’s hard for me to just discuss it with the kids nonchalantly. Especially since they are smart and sensitive, and they innocently ask why things happened the way they did, and I never have a good answer for that, except for lack of integrity, greed, lust for power, etc. And I don’t really want to get into that too deeply with them. So it’s really hard, and I find myself very disturbed by such events as the European colonization of this continent, and many others. It feels like all I can do is cry about it in the privacy of my own room.

I feel the same way about the disrespectful attitude most of us have shown and continue to show towards the Earth and all its creatures and resources. It just makes me so sad and hopeless, how we disrespect the many gifts the Earth gives us, in this consumer society, and now it seems in all societies. “We are attached to the Earth by a thousand strings”, but we rarely acknowledge that or act accordingly.

So without getting into blaming and name calling, which is tempting, I feel that all I can do is to “stand in the light” (a beautiful Quaker concept which means acting from a place of personal integrity, oneness and compassion). Which is very hard for me, but worth striving for. And maybe  I can teach the kids to do the same.

Peace

I used to not be able to get up early in the morning. Ed used to make fun of me that I never saw a sunrise in my life. He was pretty close. If I did see one, it wasn’t by choice. The only way I used to be able to get up at say, 6:30am, was with an alarm clock and that was just awful. I felt so bad, it almost made me throw up. On the other hand, staying up late never was a problem for me, and I always felt more energetic late at night.

I thought that this is pretty much who I was and never expected things to change. But they actually did. Between farming and having discovered a really good multivitamin that I take every day (called Perfect Energy by New Chapter Organics), my body established a new pattern. I’ve been waking up naturally around sunrise, and I love it. I love going outside with a cup of coffee, sitting still and waiting for the sun to come up. It’s beautiful and magical when it does. Everything is transformed. At the other end of the day, witnessing the sun going down is also beautiful, and there’s something that feels right and complete about witnessing both in one day.

I think that a few things contributed to this biological change: being outside all day long, I think set my body more in line with natural rhythms (I also noticed for example that I’m less cold in the winter and less hot in the summer, and my body’s better able to deal with the temperature throughout the year); also, I’ve been naturally drawing away from artificial lighting. I use it when I have to, at night before going to bed, but only the minimum necessary, and if I had my choice I’d try not using it at all. I feel that artificial light messes up our biological rhythm, and I just don’t like the feel of it, especially very bright light. But I know I’m starting to sound a little out there with this one.

Someone once told me that the things that made her happy had nothing to do with money. I often think about that, and it helps to remember it when I get stressed about how risky farming can be in some ways. This simple but powerful witnessing of the sun rise has nothing to do with money, just with being present enough to enjoy it. And there are so many other things like that.

took this in front of our house last Thursday morning, before starting to harvest for the CSA

  

sena's test

sena and i spent some time together yesterday. she told me that before she marries a man, she will have to test him. she already has a few tests in mind:

he must like history
he must be strong (like, able to lift 100 or 200 pounds)
he must be able to do housechores (she plans to ask him to cook, clean, do laundry for one day to make sure that he can do these things if he has to).
he must be a good carpenter (like, able to make a play house)
he must like native americans, and pilgrims.
he must be an "earth man", i.e. a man who cares about the earth, for example, turns the lights off when he's not in the room.
she also plans to ask him if he would look for another woman if she goes away for a week. if he says yes, then he's a "wimp", and cannot be with her. and if he lies, then he's really done.

there it is. sena's list. pretty straight forward.

she also asked me to remind her to check her list when she's about 16.
she plans ahead.

A woman I know asked a question yesterday, and I've been thinking about it since. She said: We live in the land of abundance. Everywhere we look around us, there is abundance. Why is it that we feel such lack?

I think that this feeling of lack many of us experience manifests in different ways: jealousy, anger, apathy, frustrastion, etc. I've experienced all of these myself, and still am at times, despite the fact that I am visibly surrounded by abundance of all kinds. It's an interesting question that she asked, and the only thing that comes to my mind in response is what Wallace Black Elk said: that being dead is not about the loss of our body, but about the loss of our spirit.

Peace

beauty parlor?

sena and aiyana wanted to play "beauty parlor" last sunday. i'm not too sure what a beauty parlor is, i've never been to one - i think they must've heard about it for grandma. anyway, i'm not usually into pretend games. i like to hang out with the kids, read to them or do outdoor stuff, or a whole bunch of other things. but pretend games, i just can't get into. anyway, "beauty parlor" turned out to be a lot of fun. they took out a whole bunch of junk jewelery, and scarves and improvised, and all i had to do was sit there and let them decorate me. they got very creative...
when they were all done, sena took these pictures of me and aiyana. they're kind of dark and grainy and i kind of like them.

it is such a gorgeous day today, a real gift. it's cool but sunny and low humidity. i could not wait to get out there and weed this morning. i weeded and thinned 4 beds of beets and i still wanted to keep going. yesterday i spent the whole day inside, cooking and canning tomato sauce and other things. it rained hard in the morning and it felt like a good day for that kind work, but by the end of the day i was really yearning to be outside. i got that today....

things are going well on the farm, but the season is clearly passed the peak, which is always kind of bittersweet. we're still harvesting a lot, and still planting crops for the fall and winter; we've also started thinking about next season already, what it's going to look like, what changes if any we'd like to make. at this point it's all daydreaming, at least on my part, which is kind of fun. i'm really drawn to the idea of getting a cow. or two. so ed and i are talking about it.

we harvested our rice, and ordered a grinding machine, which we can use to grind our own flower, and hopefuly also to husk the rice. right now the rice is drying in the sun in the greenhouse, and we'll be husking soon. the dried beans are also ready to be harvested, probably sometime this week. they look great and i am excited about having our own dried beans for the winter, bc we eat a lot of them.

my freezers are full to the max with all kinds of frozen vegetables, and we also canned a lot. it feels really good, like we're well stocked for the winter, and the best is knowing that we grew all of this ourselves.

we're trying to get our CSA members excited about canning and freezing, and generally preserving their food, but this is too time consumming for many people, and also, food preservation skills are lacking. still, we've had good demand for canning tomatoes, and interest in preserving seems to be on the rise.

i'm going to the ocean this friday, to spend some time with my parents and sena and aiyana and ed's parents. i do hope to get to spend some time by myself too, just an hour in a quiet spot by the water would be great. i feel a deep need to go to the ocean periodically, twice a year at least. i often dream about the water, and it's always really intense and beautiful, and i just want to give thanks.

peace

When I was a teenager, I loved the book, and movie, “Gone with the wind”. I read the book first when I still lived in Romania, at 12 or 13 years of age, then again once or twice after I moved to Canada. I watched the movie at least 3 times. But one thing I never got was the ending. Scarlet had just lost her man, actually both of her men, and yet, she found comfort in the fact that she still had her land, Tara. I could not understand how that had anything to do with her situation, how it could in any way alleviate her pain.


Lately, the book’s been on my mind again. I’ve been especially thinking about that ending. I still don’t think that Tara replaced the loss of her man, but now I do see how the land could be a huge source of purpose for her, and how she could find solace in her bond with it. I can feel and understand that now, whereas before, I had no context for it, because land meant nothing to me.

peace

I’m reading a history book about New England before the Mayflower. I thought it would be kind of dry, so I got it more as a reference book, but I’m finding myself really drawn into it. I skipped right to the farming section, where it describes how the Native Americans from this area at that raised their food. As it turns out, we use a lot of their methods – for example, using fish to fertilize, or prepping the ground by hand before planting (as opposed to plowing or tilling). We used to till a lot more in past year, but as our land gets better, we find ourselves working it by hand almost exclusively. Anyway, it turns out in this book that women did most of the field work, which is interesting. I find that on our farm, I tend to do more of the hands on field work, such as seeding, weeding, etc., whereas ed ends up doing more maintainance of tools and machinery, and overall planning kind of work. He’s really good at getting things to run efficiently, assessing the overall picture for our farm, and process improvement. I’m glad that’s the case, because I’m not so much drawn to that stuff, or very good at it. I told Ed that I’d be happy doing simple, hands-on tasks like weeding, or tying tomatoes for the rest of my life. I could just do that over and over.
Our season is still going very well. We’re coming up on week 15 out of 25 of the CSA. We’ve had an abundant harvest of everything to date, and I feel that people are satisfied. We continue to receive a lot of very positive feedback, which is nice. We have been seeing a few problems in the field this month, though. The chard is being damaged by blister beetles, but we cans till harvest enough for the needs of the CSA. Beets leaves are suffering from blister beetles too, but I think this has more to do with the fact that we overplanted than anything else. Our latest plantings seem to be in good shape. The carrots are having some browning of the leaves, so we’ve been selling them without leaves. The roots are not affected, and apparently what we’re seeing comes with heavy rains and high humidity, which we’ve had these past few weeks. We also overplanted carrots, so we have more than we need, and the latest plantings are fine, so we’re ok.

Sena has been working on tanning a rabbit skin, which we got last weekend from our friends. Tanning is a long, tedious process, and it’s certainly testing Sena’s limits. She wants to keep going with it, but wants Ed or I to be involved more, which is hard for us at this time of the season. So far, we scraped the skin after the rabbit was butchered, and we stretched it and dried it. Right now it’s dry but stiff. If she really wants a soft skin, then she will have to oil it and stretch it and work it a lot more. That’s the hard part.

Our friends butchered 7 of their rabbits last week, and Sena got one of their skins. They were raising them for meat, and knew that Sena was interested in tanning, so they invited us over. We were there for the butchering, which is very hard. It’s always hard to see a life taken, and I cannot get over how one minute you can be there and the next you’re not. That is a mystery, but I feel that if we eat meat or in any way partake of the end result of an animal being killed, which we all do, and if we have any integrity at all, then it is important to acknowledge this taking of a life on our behalf. I know too many people who eat meat, and wear leather without giving it a thought, but when they hear of an animal being butchered for food, they shrink away in disgust. I just find that upsetting and disrespectful towards that life. So I thought that if we were to use the rabbit fur and skin, then we should be there for the butchering, so Sena and Aiyana could understand. They didn’t have to watch if they did not want to, but I did not want them to think of that skin, or the meat they may eat if they ever chose to, as some thing that comes out of nowhere. Our friends offered prayers to the spirit of the animals, and butchered as quickly and painlessly as possible, which is the best way you can possibly do it. And yet, it’s always hard.
The only way I can deal with this, is to acknowledge and honor the giving of life, whether it be by being there and offering prayers, or by simply and honestly feeling it in my heart; and somehow, I find it comforting to think that ultimately I too, willingly or not, will give my life back to the Earth, where everything comes from.

peace

our farm in the news

our farm was in the news this week, which was preetty exciting.
check out the video that aired on Fox CT news here and the article that appeared in Monday's Hartford Courant here.

we are on vacation in montreal. it feels weird. we were trying to take this time off to be with the children and give them our undivided attention, and also be with my parents and reconnect for a few days. we left the farm in the hands of our helpers from monday to saturday this week. so everything should continue as usual. but it feels weird.
here, in montreal, we've been doing some biking, and hanging out by the river with books, and just simple things like that. we've been reading with the children, and snuggling with them and just being with them more than usual, which is a good reason to be away.
and yet. i feel like i need to go back. i feel off not being in the field at this time of the season. we thought that we'd take a break now and avoid being overly exhausted for the rest of the season; but i don't know if it's much of a break for me, bc all i think about is the farm, and what's going on, what's getting done and what's not, and i hate feeling so out of control. i guess i just have to learn to relax and let go.
it doesn't help that being here, in montreal, just seems kind of pointless. there's nothing to do, because what i really want to do is be in the field. ed thinks i'm too intense about this. he's right. i just have to focus on being with the kids and with my parents and ed. then i may feel better about being here....

i've been in raspberry heaven over the past 2 weeks. going to the raspberry patch after a day's work, hungry and tired and worn out by the heat and sun, sitting and eating as many berries as i can, satisfying hunger, thirst and the need to rest - this feels truly abundant.

this year, i am more than ever humbled by the abundance and generosity of our land. it is just amazing, how much it is producing, and how good everything is.

i rarely go anywhere these days. i am always at the farm working, and when i am not working, i want to be there resting. i feel no need to go anywhere. we have so many people coming to the farm every week, and we have a personal connection with most of them, so i feel satisfied as far as social interaction, and feel no need to seek out more.

we are starting to harvest tomatoes, and some red peppers are ready. at least two weeks early this year.
we've been harvesting lots of cucumbers, summer squash, greens, beets, carrots, and this week we harvested all our garlic and hung it in the barn to cure. the onions are almost ready too, and beans are coming along. okra is looking really good, and eggplant is abundant. sugar snap peas are done, and we had a great harvest. carrots and kale are producing well beyond our hopes and expectations. the only crop not doing well is parsley. we had cut worm damage early on, when we first planted, and it never quite recovered. i think i'll plant a new bed soon. the fall crops are already in the ground: cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, brussel sprouts, as well as winter squashes. the rice we planted is looking good, and so are the three sisters: corn, beans, squash, all of which were an experiment. the orchard area is coming along, although it's a struggle to keep up with it and the rest of the vegetable production.

the kids are doing well. they're taking a survival skills camp this week, the same one that sena was in last summer and loved. they're spending lots of time int he woods, learning how to make shelter, how to forage, make tools, and other important survival skills.

last week, sena and aiyana and i went to plimoth plantation in plymouth, massachussets. we visited the native american village as well as the pilgrim village they have there. we also visited the mayflower ship. it was interesting, as well as depressing, as it always is for me when faced with Native American/European history, and with the reality of how people treat each other and Nature. sena and aiyana ask lots of questions, which i have no good answer for.

enjoy this beautiful weather,
peace

snippets i wrote in my journal this week

I love to work the land in silence,

the kind of silence that's

full of bird song and

wind whispers.

Your voice is in such things

and silence.

Everything else, distraction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i want to be on my farm,

with my children,

working the land.

that's all.

Rhode Island, last weekend

there's nothing like the smell and sound of the ocean