OFF GUARD FARMING.
My parents came to visit on Wednesday and I could tell when they left that the drought was concerning them. That is probably why they called on Thursday and asked us what we would do if it didn't rain again soon.The drought, it should be said, is a concern. On Monday I noticed our quarter acre of sweet potatoes wilting. Our late summer and winter squash, too. I knew that if we didn't indeed get rain for another (blazing hot) week, we would have to do something.But our options are limited. Hannah and I can haul water in five gallon buckets from the creek for our small plot, and have been. But for the big gardens, we would have to find a way to irrigate––watering a quarter acre of anything by hand is a day-long joke.We would do what we could, though, but inevitably some would be lost. In fact, it's possible we could lose so much that our fall share––a third of our income––would have to be cancelled. In an already tough year without chanterelle mushrooms and with the loss of forty turkeys (also known as $4,000), it would be crippling. But that's farming, and that's what I had to tell my parents. That we would inevitably be fine–-we have enough potatoes to make it through the winter––but yes, our income would be smashed to pieces.I'm sure they exist, but I can't really think of another job that demands seven days a week of work and does not guarantee you anything in return (maybe real-estate, but the payoff is larger). Of course, you can force farming to guarantee you things––through irrigation for example––and you can learn to be smart about how you plant and handle your moisture throughout the year. Yet some years it's just bound to catch you off guard. 2014 has been that year for us. In other jobs when you learn a lesson, you learn it, apply it and move on. In farming, you have to wait until the Spring to apply what the previous Summer taught you.Then it rained on Thursday night and I called my parents the next day to tell them we got an inch, we're hoping for more, but that inch will get us through the week. Farming off-the-grid as we do is immaculate in its level of difficulty. The stress hits you from all sides and sometimes it even manifests itself in wilting sweet potatoes. But this isn't a job just about money. This is a job about feeding people and healing the planet. It's a job about health and life and a million other things I will probably never see nor understand. So I try to keep that in mind when I'm caught off guard and feeling bewildered. I try to keep in mind that no matter what happens we'll survive and every year our farm and community will be that much healthier. Explaining this to your parents, however, is not always easy to do.- Jesse.
SALAMANDER SPRINGS.
A few weeks back we finally were able to visit a farm we have been hearing about for years - Salamander Springs Farm in Berea. After hearing about how magical it was and meeting Susana many times, let me just say that it was every bit as wonderful and inspiring as we had imagined. We returned home with our minds filled with plans of solar dehydrators, earthen floors and straw bale sheds, Hugel beds and permaculture systems, seed saving and free-ranging ducks. It is so important for us to take time, even in this busiest of seasons, to visit with other farmers. We never regret the time away, and always come back feeling renewed and reinvigorated. This visit (along with a trip to Hill and Hollow in June) was part of the C.R.A.F.T. program, which you can learn more about here.- Hannah.
LIVING OFF THE LAND.
Although this is how people––including myself––have sometimes referred to the way Hannah and I live, something about the phrase "living off the land" feels inaccurate.Two things come to mind when I think of "living off" of something. First, there is living off-the-grid, in which one purposely removes oneself from the networks set up by government or private business––the grid––and tries to live without the conveniences of water or electricity, or tries to create those conveniences on his or her own. Either way, the idea is to live apart from the something, thus "off".The second idea evoked when I hear that phrase is living off one's parents, or off one's credit cards. To live off of something in this manner is perhaps to survive on something that is not one's own, or to frivolously live outside one's own means. So when I hear "living off the land" I think of someone either living detached from the land, or taking advantage of it. Perhaps even recklessly.It may very well be a silly prepositional difference (that I recognize no one will switch to), but I'd like to think we live with the land, not off of it. Hannah and I are not perfect, but we do attempt to give back much of what we take. As we clear our farm, we tread lightly into our forest, primarily using animals to fertilize and manage the woods to avoid erosion and preserve habitat. As we garden, we grow then replenish, using no-till methods everywhere possible, while trying to implement more permaculture systems slowly over time. When we forage or hunt, we take only what we need, and try and use every bit––or would, I suppose, if I were a better hunter. For the next couple years we will continue to live without electricity until we can afford an electrical system––solar, wind, thermal, etc.––that relies on a renewable resource, not on a finite supply of oil, or coal, or gas created by highly complex and slow-moving natural processes over billions of years. By living with the land then, we make it healthier, more bountiful, more productive, more diverse, create topsoil, encourage life, and give back. If we were living off of it, I feel as though we'd have little left, forced perhaps to turn to chemical fertilizers to convince anything to grow.Living off the land in this sense is precisely what we wanted to change about ourselves by choosing the lifestyle we did. We no longer wanted to be detached from all that sustained us. As physically hard and emotionally straining as it is, we wanted to know where our food came from, and we wanted to be a part of it––our food, our clothing, our water, etc.––as much as possible. In fact, maybe that's the question we should all ask ourselves in any decision––food, clothing, travel or otherwise: is this purchase or activity or lifestyle with the land, or off of it? Because the reality is that whether we live with the land, or off of it, we all indisputably need the land to live. And our children will, too.- Jesse.
