FARM LIKE YOU'RE MOVING.

My back ached as I threw the last trash bag into the truck to take to the dump. Not the last trash bag of the move, the last bag that could fit the first load.Hannah was joining me the next day but I was already exhausted, yet nowhere near done.As I stomped around the property in Bugtussle, doing the last round of cleanup before we officially left this week, I was completely floored by how much junk we owned—how much stuff had just collected, dotting the property like little flags of half-finished projects.There were endless piles of lumber scraps, broken five gallon buckets to the heavens, glass, plastic, bags, barrels, books. (I don't know why books, but several soggy books outside). I couldn't help but wonder, "What would this place have looked like in another four years?"I vowed (to my aching body, mostly) never to let this happen again. And not because I think we will ever move any time soon, hopefully ever, but because that's exactly what we said when we returned to Bugtussle. You never know where life is gonna take you, and you should never assume it won't move you.Plus, when you treat a place too permanently, you can easily weigh it down. But when you treat it as mobile, you keep it light and airy, flexible, agile even. Whether you're moving or not, that's the farm you want.I wrote a story recently about a farmer named Ben Hartman and lean manufacturing in agriculture. I won't get too much into it here, as I got way into it over at Civil Eats, but one of the things Ben did to lean up his farm was to just take stuff to the dump. Loads and loads of tools and junk he wasn't using got hauled off or sold because, as he wrote in his book, even if excess stuff doesn't have a literal cost, it has a psychological one.And as I walked around our old property this week I felt that cost. I realized how burdened our farm was with our tinkering, with indecision, with general stuff, and how much that in turn burdened us.So as we look towards the new farm, I'm going to remember this ache, this pain, and keep in mind that the farm feels it, too. If I can barely move after taking four loads to the dump, you can only imagine how the farm felt lugging all that for four years. Not good. Not healthy. Not agile, that's for sure. Now, I hope, it feels as alive as we always wanted it to feel, and I hope we can maintain always remember to keep our operation lean. Not just for ourselves, but for that land as well.- Jesse.

THIS & THAT.

Some random photos from the past few weeks on the farm.Biodynamic preparations we spread on our compost pile.Foggy morning mulching the garlic.Surprise flush of shiitakes!Finding hidden treasures as we walk around the new property.More exploring. 

ADMITTING DEFEAT AND SAYING GOODBYE.

We made a hard decision this week to cut our fall CSA short. In September, we got about half of the members we'd hoped for going into it, and so I got a seasonal job cooking to make up for the loss in income.This job has been fun, and a lifesaver. It's kind of a treat to actually get paid for every hour I work for once (farming does not always oblige). And there have been many hours, but that also means lots of hours away from Bugtussle. We are living full-time at the new farm and have been commuting back and forth to pick veggies and drop off our CSA shares. Every Monday, we pack the family in the car, drive three hours, take care of business, harvest, go to market on Tuesday and then drive home late, only for me to have to wake up early on Wednesday to be at work and start all over again.When we originally planned this - which yes, as crazy as it sounds, was our plan - we expected a frost by now which would have helped with the pest damage. We expected some rain, too, which would have been nice. The deer have ravaged the garden, which we hadn't considered enough, but without Wendell there shouldn't be surprised by. They ate all the spinach, chard, and beets - gone! - and destroyed the carrot tops. And we simply didn't account for that much loss - we just didn't think about not being there to protect stuff.So with heavy hearts, we cut out fall CSA short, and collaterally, our time in Bowling Green. Next Tuesday will be out last at our beloved market.We will dearly miss our market and our CSA, but felt we are doing the right thing even if it's the hard thing. We feel guilty, but know we would feel even more guilt giving bad food.  We just don't have the quality of vegetables our CSA members purchased, and wouldn't feel right forcing them to just take what's left.This is the latest in a series of hard decisions which we hope are leading towards sanity on our new farm. We feel good about the new farm - great about it, really. The garlic is planted.  The compost arrived on Wednesday. We bought 60 blueberry plants on Monday. I ordered a bunch of trees for the spring on Tuesday. We have already talked to a couple restaurants about sales and are looking into a cool program called Bluegrass Harvest which could be Godsend for us, should it work out. So yeah, the new farm is coming along nicely.But we will always love and always cherish our Bowling Green family, which we wish we could just bring with us. Everywhere. You have been so good to us, and we love you all. We say it often, that there is always a lot of sacrifice in staring a farm, but that doesn't mean it's every easy. So thank you for everything. Thank you for making it hard to wanna leave.With love,Jesse (and Hannah and Further)

LATELY....

It has been quiet on the blog because of all the usual reasons, but mostly because we are splitting our time between two farms that are three hours apart. Also, we have no internet.But in case you were wondering what we've been up to: getting the garlic patch planted, hiring someone to till a little over an acre for next years main garden, planting Walla Walla onions, ordering 10 tons of compost, and just generally doing all of the unpleasant things that come along with moving. But I promise we will be back to some semblance of regularity soon!