Nourishing Bites | Seed (Un)Rest Part 1
Farm Update: Post Hot Weather Event
We're still here. We're still hard at work. There is still beautiful produce to harvest.
The fact that we continue to have so much produce is due to our ability to keep crops watered and to our dear friends who came to our rescue to spend two days erecting shelters to cover some plants with shade cloth.
In addition, for years many of you have been listening to me preaching the absolute importance of soil health. Well, this is a living example of why I am so passionate about it! There is not a shadow of doubt in my mind that the health of our soil, tended carefully for years, has contributed to a stable, strong support system for our plants. The fact that anything in our fields survived multiple days of 115F temperatures may seem nothing short of a miracle-- but it is in my mind a testament to the power of our healthy, functionally diverse system. This is resilience family, on full display.
Personally, we are putting the pieces back together after a very stressful week. We are mentally and physically tired but we remain inspired by our fields. May we farmers be as resilent as our plants. ~AJ
Asclepias/Milkweed | Bumblebees enjoy a meal amidst the non-irrigated pollinator strips in our fields. It’s pretty astounding anything is blooming after multiple days of 115F heat. Nature is incredible.
Part I | Part II
Farming is a voice from beyond with a constant refrain- let go, embrace. These are not directives, but only kindly advice meant to help us tender humans navigate the complexity of living, breathing systems rife and teeming with change.
Let go, embrace.
All last winter I had no choice but to practice this. Let go of the traditional ways of resting. Embrace the clamoring needs of this new wild world. Let go of the expectations that worked flawlessly before. Embrace the urgent uncertainty and be here. Be here now.
Let go of outdated ideals of stability.
Embrace the certainty of this breath, of sunlight, of raindrops, of these freckled-nosed baby goats and earthy wild scent of freedom the willows exhale in the marshy wet edges of the field.
We exhaled deeply last October- that now distant Saturday at the end of our last CSA pickup of 2020 when Brad and I made the walk from the packing shed to the farmhouse. We harbored a quiet jubilance for the season we had successfully navigated. A season of pandemic, of uncertainty, of unrest. A season punctuated by harvest days full of wildfire smoke-filled air, and the near-constant pressing concern for our shared humanity. We had expectations of much needed rest.
But rest did not come. The work shape shifted in ways seemingly intangible.
In November, we worked to catch up on house repairs and re-ordering the materials of our lives. We cleaned and organized the packing shed and tucked it to sleep for the winter. Water lines drained, gutters cleaned, drawers and cupboards emptied and washed. A reset.
Then we began the long slow task of emptying one barn which inevitably led to filling another. To bring out into light the many physical manifestations of so many past choices is humbling and daunting. Each day I set my sights on small advances. When even that proved too much to achieve, I cinched back the goal to almost nothing, but at least something each day. These tiny successes became the slow trickle of momentum. When getting unused implements sold was too much to overcome, Monday’s task became removing all the detritus in front of the implement. Then Tuesday’s was finding the chains to move the beastly steel machine. Baby steps. A crawl.
By the end of November, we managed to take a breath. But then I began to harbor an inkling inside- a sudden urgency to think of next year.
Call it instinct, or lucky guess, but I am glad this work has taught me after all these years to listen to the voice. Listening does not mean agreeing or committing to action. It just means acknowledging a point of view, a wisdom beyond the black and white- beyond the material manifestation.
My wisdom told me to get our seeds ordered… and that would mean a complete upheaval of our standard planning process, not to mention a lot of mental perseverance to pick up the weight of another new season before we had even sloughed off the heaviness of the past year.
Typically, Brad and I start with defining our big vision for the year which helps inform the size of our market which drives our crop selection and production goals.
This process is laborious, and best done over time so big decisions can be carefully vetted. It usually takes the two of us a solid 6 weeks, with the goal that by January 15th we are placing seed orders.
But this little voice told me this year is not like others. Do not wait. And Brad felt the same. Based on the surge of interest in gardening, and ancillary reports of seed production challenges, we worried that if we waited, we would not be able to secure the seed in the quantities we needed. We also worried the prices would be exorbitant.
So we hastily set about compiling a target market profile for 2021 and over the course of 12 days just after Thanksgiving, analyzed, reviewed and compiled our records so we could assemble and lock in our seed orders.
It was not perfect, but we did it. The rest-- our rest, we said, would have to wait for the good of the farm. For the good of the families that we grow for. This is how deep our commitment is to our CSA families and to our community. We work, we keep working, because we understand what is at stake. Farming requires absolute loyalty to doing things when they need done, not when it is convienent.
Our instincts were spot on.
By January, many seed companies stopped taking new orders because they could not keep up with the demand. And even despite our planning, one supplier called and said the potato seed for which we had paid in advance was now not a sure thing. We scrambled, diversified, found and purchased additional seed from the now winnowing supply of farmers growing organic seed. We held our breath. What would a season without potatoes look like for us? How could we make good on our promises? We could not let the fear take hold. We focused on what we could control.
Seed costs went up, order fulfillment times that once were 2-5 days extended to three plus weeks. Some seed companies stopped selling to anyone but commercial growers because they couldn’t keep up and also limited quantities per customer.
In short, by January, our seed orders were tucked safely in the basement of the farmhouse, while out in the rest of the world, the seed situation was absolutely bananas.
This proved to be a telling start to the 2021 season.
Looking back on that last CSA harvest of 2020, when the winter was long before us like the outstretched arms of a sleepy yawning child, I feel as if I blinked just once and spring descended from the skies.
Let go, embrace… and listen to your inner voice.
What a very good mantra for the year to come. ~AJ
Meet Up | Archie and Slim Pickings the barn cat take 5 in the shade of the vineyard for a little conversation.