Hello April Joy Farm Friends,

Wow, we're off to a great start to our season, but due to a number of factors, (Technology changes! Writing a COVID-19 Farm Safety Plan! Launching an expanded CSA program!), I'm remiss in sending my weekly farm note out to all of you.

But what's done is done, so let's catch up, shall we?

Here are links to my Week #1 CSA season kickoff musing, a sweet little Week #2 video/farm tour, and Part I of my Week #3 essay on community. (You can read Part II below.) From now on, my farm note will arrive in your inbox on Friday mornings. Thanks for caring and sharing. ~AJ

Small Talk

Part II of II

(You can find part I of this essay here.)

Hosting a CSA pickup in a pandemic?

That’s just in a class of its own. Brad and I are grateful that everyone has been respectful and patient. The last three weeks have been a funny dance of hand motions and talking through windows and maintaining a wide berth as we mutually worked to make sure everyone felt comfortable and safe.

This has been a strange way to welcome all our families to the farm - old and new friends alike- and obviously not my first choice. I wish everyone could see the big smile behind my mask, and that we could share longer conversations across a harvest crate of freshly picked produce in all its un-bagged glory.

I miss the expressions of awe at the size of the kohlrabi or the prettiness of a fennel bunch.

I am sad for our donkeys who stand at the fence, ears curious and questioning… wondering where all those little kids are that used to visit.

And most of all, I dearly miss the chance to give and receive hugs.

But despite a few hiccups, Brad and I are grateful we’ve had such a successful kickoff to our season, and we’re thankful for your support as we learn new ways of navigating this experience.

In fact, in between the comings and goings of our families that first week, as I sat in the quiet of the farm, I realized something. I just needed to look a little closer, a little more intently, with a grateful heart. But first, I had to set down a heavy weight- that lament and sense of loss and wishing things could be different.

As soon as I had done that, I realized that every season is different anyway! This one is just a little more unique. Almost immediately then, it dawned on me how the short interactions that make up our CSA now are not a limiting factor, but actually a source of power. I realized how much agency I have to create small, but very special moments.

What do I mean by this? I mean it’s time to lean in and say and write the words that really matter, to pack all the love and intention and care I can into those grocery sacks that are headed home with you. For all the sense of loss I have felt hosting a CSA pickup in the middle of a pandemic, there is something more genuine about the ways in which we are now connecting. Our precious few moments together are more simple but also sweeter and I’m certainly feeling the love that is showing up more than ever in exchanges of emails and notes and little kindnesses that buoy me through our long work weeks.

Young Josephine left a sticker drawing for Brad and I. Mary gifted us an encouraging card and a gorgeous tea towel. Aubrey shared photographs of her preservation efforts that are drool worthy. Gail shared a recipe and remembrances of those early pickup years on Daniels Street. Brenda wrote of unpacking the CSA share with a wide eyed granddaughter and young grandson who commenced eating greens as fast as he could. Tracy informed us, “I did not know spinach could be so amazing, and I already loved spinach!” Stan told us how excited he is to have “good vegetables” again. Roxanne told us how the farm produce has been a creative inspiration. Laurie sent enticing photographs of her beautiful salads. Brooklyn came with her mom just to wave to the donkeys and chickens through the window. Audrey shared that as a little girl on her family’s farm, her job was to sit between the rows and keep the crows from eating the crops.

And on and on.

So many small moments. In any other season, these might have been passed by for lengthy visits, oohhing and ahhing over produce, and most certainly a lot of classic small talk. But not this year. When we ask one another, “How are you?” it is with more attention, more care— dare I say more authenticity.

This year, all the little gestures and sweet sentiments hold new significance for me. I see these interactions like single, careful stitches- small connections that are tightly knitting together our farm community one moment by one moment.

At the end of each CSA pickup, I wipe down the table, put away the crates, turn off the cooler lights and head to the farmhouse. It’s not quite the same as those cold nights driving Babe the blue trailer home from town. But then as now, after all our CSA shares have found their way to your homes, I’m still recounting the special moments, stories, and gifts we’ve shared. That’s what keeps filling up my grocery sack of joy.

This year, there is not space for the extraneous. There is only space for what matters: listening, learning, connecting. These days, to me, our ‘small talk’ is anything but small. ~AJ