Depending on the day, or maybe more accurately, the moment--I have told Jed that I am DONE with this whole farmers market thing or that the adventure is so much fun and I LOVE it! The market day when our Kansas county was on tornado watch and almost no customers came was a little discouraging. But just in the moment that I needed a boost, we had a fun Friday night harvesting and Saturday morning talking to people stopping by our booth.
I've found myself taking a lot of pride in our healthy-looking Russian kale (an heirloom variety) or the rainbow-colored beets we pulled from the ground (also an heirloom). It's fun becoming part of the community of vendors at the market...like Patty who sells amazing goat's-milk soap in the booth next to us (who gave me some ground-up apricot pit to put in my first try at soap-making). Or Becky who makes beautiful pottery (she came to my school and helped me figure out how use the kiln in my classroom last September). And there's the lady who spins her own wool (how cool is that?!!) and the honey-lady, and the Kromers (who are retired military, now growing produce). And I love seeing the plants grow and take on these amazing colors: food is so dynamic! These plants are my babies.
So, I'm learning that just like anything--being a local, market-garden farmer is a lot of work, with its challenges and its joys. And I'm glad we are making the journey...most days.
Between school winding down and ending this coming week (at the high school where I teach) and moving into town (we still have our garden plot out at Jed's parents' farm), I only made it out to the farm on Saturday. The plants had grown, and the weeds were HUGE!! So I spent 5 hours pulling out unwanted plants and tried my hand at the hoe.
I was just amazed at the colors and textures, and lines and shapes that I saw and wanted to share them with whomever stumbles upon this blog. Nature truly is a masterpiece to behold.
So Jed and I showed up at 6:48am on Saturday to the Leavenworth Farmers Market and set up our first booth ever as vendors. The night before we cut spinach, kale, a salad mix, arugula, and Jed pulled some green onions. I finished the chalkboard sign, putting on its last coat of paint earlier that day. And we were ready to go.
I was so nervous, but as soon as we were set up and people started coming up to buy from us I started having fun. We were visited by friends, family, and regulars at the market. And I loved it!! So we'll be back every Wednesday throughout the growing season from 3-6pm, and the occasional Saturday mornings.
We are on our way to being real vegetable farmers!
Me showcasing the harvest from Mother Earth.
The newest farmers in Kansas!
Jed's explaining something about "farmin' " to our friend and supporter, Jodi.
Jed and I moved to Kansas to follow our dreams. His father gave him the okay to use a small plot of land on his 30-acre farm to grow. We would be close to family, and learning about the ins-and-outs of farming organically and sustainably. Jed's sister moved out here with her family just a few months before we showed up, her husband taking on the responsibility to manage the family farm and to grow it into a CSA.
To support this dream, we had hoped that Jed could bring in a small income while I taught art at a high school in-town. However, over the last few months, I have watched as Jed has searched for employment here in Kansas. He has talked with individuals, contacted businesses, searched Craigslist, and created opportunities for himself. He has sold homemade bread in the neighborhood, lumber-jacked on a small scale with his brothers until snow continued to slow them down.
During this time, one of Jed's older brothers came to visit our little abode above the barn. We started telling him about our dreams, but they came out unclear and with less direction that we would have liked. We had started to realize some of the harsh realities of farming (such as how to initially finance that dream), and just started to experience the learning curve that comes with starting something new, and were not yet sure how to make all of our ideas come to fruition.
That night, in the quiet of our small living room, Jed and I experienced a crucible moment. Jed's brother spoke very frankly and directly to us. He spoke as a loving, concerned brother, one who had experienced some of the ups and downs as a husband, a father, a provider.
Soon after, Jed and I came up with a plan, and as plans go, things could change. But we have hope and direction again. Jed went back to school to complete pre-reqs for nursing. He's planning to get a nursing degree and be a farmer who is also a nurse. And he is loving his classes and excited about what he is doing. He’ll start the program this fall.
For now, Jed and I are balancing school and work with our plants and garden. We want to learn as much as possible with growing, planning out our crops, and selling at the local farmers market. And we’ve spent quite a bit of time reflecting on what we have learned. It’s been quite the journey. And it’s not over yet. It’s so fun to dream with your best friend. So, I am going to share some of those “lessons-learned” below.
Lessons learned over the last few months:
·Farming is work and there is a lot to learn about growing things (which I already knew, but REALLY know now)
·Following your dreams is a long-term adventure, so I have to be patient as we build them and have them shift from time to time
·Achieving one’s dreams requires financing them (we’re figuring out how to do that and I think we have a pretty good plan—we’ll see)
·It’s okay to make mistakes and learn from them
·I don’t love pipes freezing but can live in 35-40F weather
·I love plants and am amazed by the relationship one can build with them
·There are knowledgeable individuals out there who are willing to share what they know…what great resources they are
Temperatures have been above freezing for almost a month now. Jed and I took out some of our plants that we started in doors back in February out to our garden plot around the beginning of April. (We have about half an acre we’ll be working on this summer at the top of a hill on the property of Jed’s parents.) Very gently, we transplanted rows of cabbage, kale, rainbow Swiss chard, Brussels sprouts, beets, and cabbage. We then put two rounded, plastic covers over them to protect them and help them grow faster—they are miniature cold frame structures made from recycled materials.
Jed watering our tomato plants.
Seeds we started indoors.
The next day, the Kansas winds came in with all the gusto they could muster up. Then the sun came out…the only day that it’s been above 90F this spring. Before we got out there, one of the cold frame covers had been picked up by the wind and carried off down the side of the hill, broken. I was so worried about the exposed plants but there was nothing to do. I hadn’t realized how emotionally attached I had grown to these little green living organisms. But there I was, worrying like they were my own children.
But they have pulled through and are growing beautifully. And the tomato plants look fantastic. We started all of these amazing heirloom tomatoes from seed that we got from Patricia, a master gardener that Jed apprenticed with back in Salt Lake City. She saves seeds each year from the to-die-for organic heirloom tomatoes that she grows and sells at the SLC farmers market. We’ll start planting those outside in a week, and I am excited! I love this “growing your own food” stuff!!
The "cold frame" that Jed built back in January. This is why we are eating greens right now.
Amy sitting in the middle of our garden, isn't it beautiful?!
Jed and I have been eating salads every day for weeks now—salads created from our own leafy greens that wintered over from last fall in Jed’s cold frames. We’ve got arugula, kale, lettuce, green onions, and spinach. I love it! And we are hoping to sell at the Leavenworth Farmers Market starting the 2nd week of May. Boy do we both have a lot to learn.
I have been tempted to give up on dreams because of gas prices. So I got a hold of a book called 20 Dollar Gasoline--read it if you are okay with taking Prozac after: It’s tough. It is similar to all the doomsday books that seem to be popular about humans destroying the world and the human race. I try to limit the amount of books I read that are similar in nature. But because I am such a penny pincher I hate watching gas prices rise more than normal. So I read the book and could not put it down. He goes through in two dollar increments as gas prices go up, which they will go up, and explains what will happen at each increment. At six dollars a gallon everyone will abandon SUV’s. At eight dollars the airline industry will crash. At ten dollars SUV’s will go extinct along with recreational trucks (ones that do not serve a vital role in a business). At 12 dollars there will be a mass migration from the suburbs to the cities where they can rely on public transit more readily (suburbs are a creation of cheap fuel). At 18 dollars inner cities will become completely renovated to house more people and work more efficiently. Either you will live in the city, small compact towns or you will live in the country as a farm. So as I am reading this book I wonder what position I will be in the future. Will I have to relocate to the city since I have chosen to be a nurse? Or will I manage to live in the rural setting some how and farm and nurse at the same time? I started to think that it would be okay to just have a big garden somewhere in the city and call it good—no horses. I told Amy that and she looked at me questioningly. “Are you sure you would want that just to save money on gas?” That got me thinking. Would I give up on my dream to farm with horses just to save a buck? Nobody likes to give up on dreams and especially for me. Following dreams is part of my identity. I had the dream of saving the world once. Went to Bolivia, Peru, and Ecuador trying to do useful humanitarian work. I had the dream to be a dog musher in Alaska. Went there. Lived on a Glacier. Even trained Iditarod sled dogs. After Alaska I had a new dream: farming with draft horses. So as I thought about Amy’s question I realized I couldn’t give up on draft horses. They represent too much a part of me--my dreams. I’ve also realized that they are not just my dreams. It has become just as much Amy’s dream as it is my own. She wants to live that dream. It has also become a part of her identity as well. As we water and weed our garden I catch her talking to the plants as if they were her babies. She apologizes to them for bad weather and for not watering them sooner. If the future is as bleak as this author made it sound then we will have to sacrifice and be innovative but we'll hold onto and work towards our dreams no matter what.
I've found myself taking a lot of pride in our healthy-looking Russian kale (an heirloom variety) or the rainbow-colored beets we pulled from the ground (also an heirloom). It's fun becoming part of the community of vendors at the market...like Patty who sells amazing goat's-milk soap in the booth next to us (who gave me some ground-up apricot pit to put in my first try at soap-making). Or Becky who makes beautiful pottery (she came to my school and helped me figure out how use the kiln in my classroom last September). And there's the lady who spins her own wool (how cool is that?!!) and the honey-lady, and the Kromers (who are retired military, now growing produce). And I love seeing the plants grow and take on these amazing colors: food is so dynamic! These plants are my babies.
