RECOMMENDED READING.

January is our leanest month around here. It just always is. We have no income to speak of and lots of expenses - seeds, new tools, greenhouse repairs, compost. Plus, some unexpected expenses - blown head gaskets, new cylinders, endless car problems. All of this is coupled with hours and hours spent planning and plotting in the garden and looking at past finances. So basically, we think a lot about money in January. We received this lovely book from our friends for Christmas, and it has been a nice reminder for us during this sometimes-stressful month. Yes, money is an important and essential element to our lives. But it is equally important to remember why we are doing the work we do. It is not just about making money. And, as this book so perfectly puts it, when we only monetize every thing that we do on our homestead, we are taking away from its overall value.So, for anyone out there scouring seed catalogs and preparing taxes and perhaps wondering how in the world it makes sense to raise chickens, I would recommend this book. It is not completely practical, considering that the Hewitt's don't need to make an income from their homestead, but it has been a welcome break in all of the number crunching for us. We can make it through this month! Farm on, good people.-Hannah.

MONEY FOR FARMING.

Farming has never been about money for me. When I think back on to the guy I was when I started farming, I remember thinking very vaguely about money, like it wasn't really something I did, or really could, care much about. As long as I was farming, and had everything I needed to do that, I was going to be happy. And for the most part I wasn't entirely wrong.But there are so many projects on the farm we would love to be able to afford to do, or afford to finish. We still need to skirt our house. We need to build a cellar, a springhouse, a shed, an intern shelter. We just simply don't have the time or money. And I go out into the woods, after a long day's work and try and clear the forest so we can have more garden space, so we can make more money, so we can do more farming, but it's slow going, and a silly, tiring cycle of fatigue.So we've recently decided to pay someone to clear it. This is a big step for us. It could mean that here in a few weeks we would have another half-acre of garden space on our property. It could mean a fair bit more food to sell, thus more money for farming.Hannah and I are trying to build our dream homestead here, and we're not doing it on our current budget. And although a half acre is a laughable amount of ground to most farmers, we think we'll be able to double, but potentially triple, our income on it. Which would mean we could afford more of what we love to do––farm. It's a bit of a concession, deciding to no longer clear it all ourselves––and ultimately deciding to invest in some light machinery––but it's also a little bit of relief. I will soon feel like I can save some of that energy I spend felling trees and hauling logs to play with our son at night––to be able to actually hold him without wincing in pain. That alone, is worth hiring out the work.- Jesse.

SOLUTIONS.

I have always enjoyed puzzles and riddles, so naturally farming was a good choice. There is never not a problem that needs solving around the farm. However, these problems aren't always small. I'm good for tying hay string around a stick to hold something in place, but when it comes to bigger problems like, say, how to get the area around our house to be less muddy, it's a little harder. And I'll break down why.Every big problem goes something like this: The first action we need to take is usually relatively simple. Most of the time we can––with enough work––do it ourselves. The mud for instance. I need to dig a few trenches and lay drainage tile. Okay, I can to that. Then we need to pay somebody a bunch of money to come spread one inch gravel all over our driveway. And voila––no more mud.You see what happened there? The "bunch of money" part of the equation stops the project flat. But that doesn't happen when you're trying to solve the NPR Weekend Edition Puzzle with Will Shortz. It doesn't happen when you're just trying to figure out how to fix the handle on your splitting maul. It happens when you're trying to do something big, and unfortunately, most of what need right now is big.But what I'm trying to keep in mind is that "big" doesn't mean it can't still be solved in a small way. We just have to be more creative. Perhaps scaling up the solutions, and thinking long term, is the next step to becoming a good problem solver. I suppose, with the mud to continue with that example, we could buy a couple buckets full of gravel every time we go into town and start making a pile. This would spread the cost out and eliminate the transportation fee. We go into town some forty times a year anyway, which means that by next winter, with enough diligence, we could have roughly a ton of gravel to work with and spread over the driveway. Now is that realistic? Not really. It assumes that we're going to a) remember the buckets, b) have the time, c) have the car space, or d) remember to pick up the gravel. But I will say that coming up with solutions like this, even in the hypothetical, makes all problems seem slightly less daunting. What we'll likely do to solve the mud is, well, nothing for a few more years anyway, so why not pick up a few buckets when we remember? At very worst, even if we're able to one day afford to pay someone to haul it, we'll just have an extra gravel pile around the house––not the worst thing in the world. To me, the worst thing is not trying to solve the problem at all.- Jesse.

A CASE FOR THE IMPERFECT HOMESTEAD.

Comparison is the thief of joy. This is a phrase Hannah once told me that I've always loved. Nothing makes me feel like more of a failure than scanning permaculture books like "The Resilient Farm and Homestead," or "Gaia's Garden" and thinking, "Man, our farm looks nothing like these." I know they're well-established homesteads which have had lots of helpers over the years, but still. Hannah and I are doing our best to have a beautiful farm but farming always seems to get in the way.We long for a beautiful farmstead, but beauty is just not always all that practical. A beautiful farm takes a lot of work, and we've got a lot of that going on already. We work full time and that work sustains us, but little more.The thing I have to keep in mind, however, is that our farm––in conjunction with our neighbor's farm––is paying the bills. And that is a beautiful thing in and of itself, but also where the majority of our time goes. So unfortunately our aesthetics often get pushed aside. But if that means our homestead is perfectly functional, so be it. So be proud of it. Even if you don't get a hundred cans of tomatoes put up. Even when you fail to make your kimchi. Even when the turkeys eat your winter garden, but you still have plenty to eat and are surviving––or could easily survive––entirely off of the farm, that's something to be proud of. That's something you should consider successful, even if it looks insane.In fact I almost prefer it this way––the slow way. Sure, we could take out an equity loan and pump up our farm, build the cellar and barns we need, maybe even get some solar electricity to them. But the way we are going about it now–-slowly––allows the farm to adapt. It makes every new accomplishment that much more ours. We earned it. We built it. We did it ourselves. And when it is finally beautiful––which, by God it will be one day––and perennial plants abound, and the farm takes care of itself, and we have everything we need, we'll probably still be dissatisfied. We'll look at the current books and think, "Man, our farm looks nothing like these." So, really, what's the rush?- Jesse.