TORN.

This week I attended a seminar with Jean-Martin Fortier, the author of The Market Gardener. My impetus for going was that JM makes over $100,000 a year per acre growing organic veggies, and it piqued my curiosity. Because to put that in perspective, we thought we were killing it by making $25,000 per acre.But there are several differences between what JM does and what we do, not the least of which is the equipment he uses. In the garden behind our house, Hannah and I don't use equipment. We use mulch to do our tilling, and a combination of rakes, broad forks and shovels to work up the soil if need be. In the big gardens that we farm with our neighbors, we use two different tractors. All JM uses is a small, but specific walking tractor which he utilizes to prepare, weed, and cultivate 30" permanent beds, growing almost as much food on one acre as we do on three. It's pretty impressive how productive this small machine can be, and it left at least 150 farmers at that seminar wanting one of these walking tractors. Honestly, I was not immune.More than anything, though, this left me torn. I want desperately to farm like JM. It speaks to me on an ineffable level to be that productive. Then there's the closet prepper side of me who wants to prepare myself and my family and my farm for a post-petroleum world, and not invest in oil-based machinery. Even if it looks really, really fun and really, really profitable. I want to be spending my time one day soon learning to use draft animals. Or figuring out a version of his system that can be done by hand. I may be able to talk Eric and Cher into implementing some of his practices in the big gardens, but really, without the specific machinery, it doesn't work the same. And I feel I want to start working away from more machinery, not towards it.Truth be told, his book and that seminar has put me at a sort of crossroads. Because it's not just about the money. That dude feeds an unreal amount of people, and I want that, too. He builds soil. He increases organic matter and sequesters carbon, he doesn't honestly use very much fuel, but still. He does use fuel.So, what's the answer? Is the answer to stay the course, work ourselves to death making a quarter of the money, feeding a quarter of the amount of people per acre? Or is it to implement some of his methods and make it work, fossil fuel dependance be dammed? I honestly have no idea, but I do know this, my idealism has officially met it's match.- Jesse.

WARMTH.

I never valued warmth very much growing up. Warmth was just there, or it wasn't. And I didn't think much about where it came from or that one warmth could be different from another. I just adjusted the thermostat accordingly and went about my business.Now, however, without a thermostat, I have to employ several different heats throughout a day, and I have learned to value their individual nuances. The heat of the sun, for instance, is a completely different monster than the heat of the wood stove. (And of course every individual wood has its own type of heat as well.) Then there's heat created by friction, rubbing your hands together, say, or using a splitting maul. There is body heat, like that of your baby and wife––or that of yourself, trapped in by the right clothes. Then of course the heat created by bacteria in a compost pile––that's a unique heat.With electricity or propane heat it's hard to experience these different heats throughly. And although I was aware of each before moving off-grid, I hadn't learned to value them like I do now. I hadn't learned how much better a sweet potato tastes when it's baked in a wood stove. Or how much better a sun dried tomato is when actually dried in the sun. When you're cold and away from a fire, I hadn't realized how warm hard work will keep you. And when you're chilly but too lazy to get out of bed and stoke the fire, how much relief can be brought by curling up a little closer to your wife and infant son.Warmth is no longer just there or not there to me. It's everywhere and it's wonderful. Or it's missing and I'm paying for it. Either way, it's a tool that we use a lot. And like any tool it can be good or bad, the right tool or the wrong tool. Of course, come summer, it will be about cool not warmth. But the same rules apply––I'll take a dip in the creek over air-conditioning any day.- Jesse.

WINTER FARMING.

Every winter we get teases of Spring like we received this week, where the highs are in the fifties and rain holds off for a bit. It's good working weather. Maybe even perfect. And it's a nice time to start easing into the labor ahead of us. I pulled tomato cages out of the garden for hours. I mulched like crazy. I yanked the remaining plastic off the high tunnel and right now, as the rain is beginning to come back, I feel sore and fulfilled.We need these little tastes of the growing season to help get ready for the real deal––mentally and physically. We enjoy that we get to work just as hard during these periods as we will in March and April, but get to do so without the stress of HAVING to work hard. It's all the joys of hard work without the pressure. So when the Spring comes, and everything explodes, we will be well conditioned and ready. And over the next month or so, while the ground is still bare, we will take every opportunity to get out in the dirt and sun to prepare. The more we do now, the less we will have to do later. Off-grid farming like this––or more precisely, homesteading––requires that you are always working to take care of the future you. So right now we're taking care of our Spring selves by getting in shape, and getting the farm ready for several months of mayhem.- Jesse.

MESSY MONDAYS.

In continuing with our Messy Mondays series, here is our set-up for cooking down maple sap into maple syrup from last week......and here's what happened when we went for a walk and the oven mitt caught on fire.Good thing we didn't try this INSIDE the house!