COMMUNITY SUPPORTED INDEED.
In the last few days I've written what seems to be dozens of blog posts, infinite musings on the pain and frustration Hannah and I have been through this year, and reflections on what it's like to feel hopeless in your garden, the one place where there usually exists almost nothing but possibility. It's nice to write in the voice we've adopted for our blog, the one who talks openly and shares their story with numerous, faceless people. It feels like therapy: even if no one reads all those posts I've written, I've written them to someone who listens and I'm left feeling better.However, I have no ambitions to update with another sad post about our predicament when so many good things are coming from it. We visited a farm around Berea yesterday and spoke with a great family whose enthusiasm and generosity was refreshing and exciting. The CFA people have been wonderful, actively and aggressively sending us different leads and ideas––including the Berea farm. Our friends and family have been sharing our links; we're getting in touch with random people who've heard our story; tens of dozens of notes, comments and suggestions have flooded our inbox and thousands of views have come to our blog over the last few days... People, in short, are doing what they can and what they're doing is inspiring. Community is a vague concept sometimes until it unites, at which point it seems to become an army.We're weighing all options and opportunities and possibilities and we're starting to feel as though, no matter what happens, we'll come out on top. If you still have ideas or suggestions, even if they're small or ridiculous, please keep them coming and know that not one ounce of your support is going unnoticed or unappreciated. Not an ounce.- Jesse.
A LITTLE HELP WANTED.
It's been a couple days now. Although we're finally coming out of the understandable funk losing your farm will render, we're also finding ourselves a couple days closer to having to leave. We have to make a decision soon. Decisions, however, require options and we're writing this in hopes of finding a few more.As hard as it is to ask for help sometimes, we thought it couldn't hurt to see if perhaps one of our dear readers could help. Maybe they have a piece of property not being used, or know someone who'd be willing to owner-finance a few acres––something they don't need and would like to see farmed and farmed lovingly. We hear a lot of stories of small farmers finding their land this way, and thought we'd be bold and go ahead and put it out there...SO, If we had our druthers, things would look like this: We'd love to owner finance / lease-to-own a small piece of property, 5-??? acres, with some kind of water source, tillable land and a small farmhouse. Preferably this place would be within an hour of Lexington, Bowling Green or Louisville. We really like the Danville area, but we would look at just about anything anywhere. Beggars, as the saying goes–––though I prefer the term financially disabled––cannot be choosers. We might be able to borrow enough for a small down payment, if that helps. Again, though, we are considering all ideas, any opportunity, the simplest advice.We have already been presented with a very generous, god-send of an offer, but since it's another piece of land we may never own, we are at least taking a moment to explore some other options. As these friends know, our ultimate goal is to own land, and though we know we'd love it there, we're understandably a little hesitant to get ourselves into another temporary situation.If you have any ideas, any at all, please do not be shy about sending them along. Hannah and I are doing fine, but we're not in the most creative of mind states. Everything is moving slow right now, and we're trying to snap out of the shock, which we must do quickly, but it's hard. Our email is roughdraftfarmstead@gmail.com, if you have any leads or if you would just like to drop a line please feel free. You all will never know how much your flow of support has kept our little boat afloat.- Jesse.
ROUGHEST DRAFT YET.
This is the first sentence of the hardest post we've had to do yet––a little surprising and terrifying considering the year we've had––so brace yourself: we've been asked to leave our house and garden.I'm not really sure how to tell this story because it wasn't one thing that happened; we didn't burn down a barn, destroy the house, fight with the landowners or anything like it. So far as we can tell, the only thing anyone did wrong was gravely misinterpret the offer presented. For us, disastrously so.While we process this situation, we're having to deal with all those annoying, foreign emotions which exist so vividly on the fringes of sanity: we're angry, we're depressed, we're terrified, we're sleepless, confused, unhappy. These emotions make us deeply uncomfortable, the kind of emotions that tempt you into hyperbole, or impair judgement and cause you to say things you might regret. With that in mind, we're not going to go on too much about the specifics. The reality is we've been asked to leave, and now we have to make some quick decisions about our life.Saner people might take the loss of two different farms as a sign to stop farming, but only in writing this sentence do I realize we've never even considered it, nor would we. Our goal is, and has always been, a farmstead of our own, one where we can sustain a small community and family. We originally thought the Danville situation was the way to get there, but we're now sadly further away from it than when we arrived, having spent all of our wedding money getting a garden started, which we're now going to have to disassemble and chalk-up to a loss. But that's those dangerous emotions talking.It became obvious over the last month that being asked to leave was a possibility, so we've talked to many friends, family members and fellow farmers about what we should do. We're not going to make that decision now, we have a little time and we want to explore our options. Know that Hannah and I are hanging-in-there, as hard as this year has been on us...our bond is strong, and our drive stunted but not extinguished. The goal is to have that farm of our own, and whatever we do next has to get us closer to that. We just aren't yet sure what that means, only that Rough Draft Farmstead was a very apt name for our farm, and so far, for the tittle of our life.Thankfully we will be able to finish our summer share, so don't fret. And we might still be able to do a small, shortened fall share––which would really help compensate for our lost income and give us a shot at financially surviving the winter––but we're not certain at the moment.And thanks to all of our dear shareholders, friends and family, old and new. As hard as things ever become, it has always been a comfort to us having you along on this adventure, and we couldn't be more grateful for your support. Thank you again, and please, wish us luck. There may be a lot of uncertainty ahead, but there may be a lot of possibility as well.- Jesse.
WHERE THE HEART IS.
This weekend Hannah and I took a quick trip to Bugtussle––again aided by my lovely mother's willingness to watch the animals––to see our mentors, our second home, and our adopted family. We had been able to visit in January before the season started, but since March everybody has been rather tethered to their land––such is farming. So it was nice to get a chance to break away and see the Smith Family, to play with the kids, hear the stories of their crazy season and to unload a few of our troubles, graciously gaining some much needed perspective in return.There's so much to say about that family, that farm: it's our ideal lifestyle and thus an inspiring place for us to return to. But instead of writing a book here about how much we love it, just enjoy some pictures from our trip, and know that many of the hard decisions we'll be facing in the (possibly very) near future were refined over the good food, wine and conversation shared between us.- Jesse.
