In Which I Answer Your Unasked Questions

So, Emily, what have you been up to these days?

Oh, you know, not much. Still working on Boerson Farm. Lots of weddings to go to this summer, and I worked at a few, too. Oh yeah, I’ve also been getting my farm ready.

Are you living there yet? What’s the status?

No, I’m still living in Princeton, but I’ll be moving down to Avoca full time at the end of October. This summer has been full of lots of bureaucracy, plus a bit of fieldwork. I’ve plowed most of the beds I’ll be planting in the spring, and just this past weekend tilled and seeded some cover crop to “put them to bed” for the winter. In mid-October, I’ll plant my garlic (about 3500 cloves of 20 different varieties) and strawberries. 

Where are you moving at the end of October, exactly? Like, do you have a house?

I’ll be living in a 100-year-old brick farmhouse on a hill. It was a weekend home until my aunt and uncle decided to build their own house on another part of the property. They live there full time now, but it’s either a 3 minute drive around the block or a 15 minute hike over the hill and through the woods. The farmhouse is furnished and everything, and there are a bunch of outbuildings from when the farm was a small dairy many decades ago.

So what else will you grow besides garlic and strawberries?

I’ll be growing organic vegetables on about one acre using a bio-intensive raised bed system, meaning  my plants will be spaced close together to shade out weeds and maximize yield from a small area. My goal is to have at least two kinds of greens available every week of the year (spinach, arugula, lettuce, salad mix, braising mix, kale, etc.), plus all your vegetable staples like carrots, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, etc. I also plan on establishing some perennial beds of rhubarb and asparagus, a small orchard (about 75 trees), and shiitake and oyster mushrooms. I plan on using a large unheated hoop house (30’ x 96’) and an assortment of low tunnels for both winter growing and earlier summer crops. 

And where exactly do you plan on selling all this stuff?

Good question! I plan on starting with a 25-member CSA and two small farmers markets every week. The CSA will be fully customizable - members will still join the CSA by pre-paying at the beginning of the season, but instead of getting a box of whatever I want to give them that week, they’ll get to choose what they get and how much. I’ll send an email out, say on Tuesday evening, they’ll have until Wednesday evening to make an order, and then on Friday afternoon they can pick up a custom box whose value will be debited from their member balance. They’ll get special perks for becoming a member, like a 10% bonus at the beginning of the season, first dibs on special and early crops, discounts on bulk veggies for canning or storage, the ability to use their member credit at the farmers market, and an invite to a super sweet event on the farm every fall. 

What about animals? Weren’t you talking about breeding stock and a cow, or something?

Ah, yes, the menagerie. I’ll be setting up shop with 2 (hopefully 3) sows and a boar, which will result in spring piglets. I’ve been gifted a jersey heifer calf for eventual milk (not anytime soon) and I plan on ordering some chicks this fall so they will start laying eggs about the time the first markets roll around in the spring. I’ll also round things out with a few mousers from the local shelter and a puppy!

A puppy? Are you crazy? Don’t you have enough to be getting on with?

Yes, I do, but the puppy is actually part of the plan! It was just born this past weekend - a Maremma, which is an Italian livestock guardian dog. It’s basically the Tuscan version of a Pyranees - big, white, & fluffy. Maremmas are bred and trained to stick with the herd (whatever the herd is - sheep, goats, pigs, chickens) and scare away predators. This pup will live in the barn with the menagerie, at first in a protected pen to get socialized, and eventually among the animals. It’s a working dog, pulling its weight on the farm just like everyone else. 

And so you’ll be selling pork and eggs?

Yes, I’ll be selling eggs through the CSA and at the market. The pork is a slightly more complicated matter. At first I’ll be selling the weaned piglets to other farmers in the area and running a small pork CSA. The plan is to find 12 members who would like to split a pig every month. They would get the experience of eating a whole hog over the course of the year without having to invest in another freezer or make a large purchase all at once. There will be a deposit to join in the first month, then a monthly payment when the meat arrives. The price will be a savings compared to retail on local pastured-raised heritage pork, but will come with the convenience of parceled out monthly deliveries. Every box would include some basics (various ground and cased sausages, bacon, ham, pork chops) and a rotating 1/12th (various roasts, ribs, extra chops, extra bacon, etc.).

So, um, aren’t you broke? How are you going to survive all winter? And this all sounds expensive…

Why, yes! Thanks for asking. Well, I’ll be getting some kind of winter job when I get to Avoca. There are plenty of options in that department, so I’ll be able to pay the bills this winter. And yes, the start-up will cost some money. I’ve applied for an FSA micro-loan to cover some of the equipment I’ll need, and the USDA has a grant program to assist with the purchase of a hoop house, so I hope to take advantage of that as well. Should one or both of these fall through, there are other loan options available. I’ve also worked a bit of over-capitalization into my plan, so if I need to I can modify my plans in more of a “bootstrap” direction. 

So, when can I visit?? Do you have a guest room?!

Yes! Please come visit! I have lots of room, and love to cook for company. If you get in touch with me, I’ll add you to the list for my private B&B situation - this basically involves signing up on a google calendar for one of my guest rooms, and pitching in on a project when you get here or tossing a few bucks in in the till should you prefer a more relaxing stay. 

Are there other ways I can help without actually having to come to Wisconsin??

Well, first off, you should want to come to Wisconsin! But if you just can’t make the trip just yet, there are a few ways you can help:

  • Contribute to the perennial fund, which will be used for the purchase and maintenance of trees, small fruits and herbs. 
Donate
  • Buy a CSA share for the local food bank. You’re too far away to enjoy my veggies, but you have a few bucks to spare and think more people should have access to local organic vegetables? You can buy a share that I’ll deliver to our local food bank all season. (This option available in March.)
  • Buy one of the books on my Amazon wishlist. I'll slowly start adding more non-book items over the winter. Think of this as my farm registry, with my sincere promise that if I ever get married I will never register for anything again!
  • Or, if you’re as broke as I am (hi there!), I would love it if you would share the link to my website with other people who might find it interesting. 

You know, I have to say that this is an odd way to use that anthropology degree from Harvard.

Yeah, not the first or last time I’ll be hearing that.

Will you at least be posting more often now?

Yes, I plan on it. Since I won’t be working on two farms and driving at least two hours away most weekends, I should have more time for things like writing.

You know, it was really great to catch up this way!  We should do this more often.

For sure! And next time I’ll try not to just go on about myself so much.

Fat chance!!

Haha!!

Byeeee!!

Laterrrr

On Learning With and Learning From

I’m not sure if this is true wherever you are, but here in Wisconsin, it’s February. It’s a many-splendored month, full of snow and sleet and cold and flu and all things grey. It’s also the month of seed orders, day lengthening, and the pre-season farmer huddle. It takes a herculean feat of imagination to look out at the greyscale landscape at this moment and paint the rows green, but the seeds are in the mail and attention must be paid! Next season is still a nebulous haze of future colors and smells and sounds and tastes ready to be corralled into a mixed metaphorical bag of tables, calendars, charts, drawings, etc. Danielle and I have started to talk about what next year is going to look like at Boerson Farm, and these ongoing conversations have prompted me to reflect on the idea of the apprenticeship and the different ways one chooses how to learn a trade. We were discussing their decision to scale down their pork production over the next few years, and she made an off-hand comment about my being able to learn from their mistakes. Over the last year and going into the next season, I am constantly thankful that Mat and Danielle take the attitude that they have more to learn than they have to teach. That’s not to say I don’t have lots to learn from them - they’re both whip-smart, well-read, and wise beyond their years. They’ve got an extra ten years of life experience and seven years farming experience on me, but their attitude is always closer to the student than the teacher. So as I prepare for my last season as their girl Friday, I’ve been reflecting on what makes for a good learning experience, and how my time at the Boersons’ compares to other apprenticeships available to aspiring farmers. 

When I was looking into learning opportunities the first (and second) time, I noticed that there seemed to be two possible directions to take when choosing a farmer-mentor: someone who has been farming for years and has everything figured out or someone who is building up their farm and is still figuring things out. There are certainly more people in the latter camp than the former, but there are for sure a few established farmers who attract lots of young acolytes hoping to learn at the feet of masters. More often than not, these masters are published, oft-cited men who have a model to deliver. Almost across the board, apprentices are paid little for their labor, entering into a mutually-beneficial arrangement to learn what they can before striking out on their own. Many of these farmers understandably regard educating the next generation of farmers part of their commitment to sustainability, and take on the burden of training and retraining a rotating cast of enthusiastic young people and sending them on their way after a season or two of hard work. Others, seemingly fewer but no less committed, seek to attract and retain hard workers with the promise of a living wage, benefits, and the satisfaction of working hard with lofty principles. These farmers see their sustainability in a more specific sense. focusing on building a farm community that can sustain itself, not just ecologically but financially. As a few widely-circulated articles have recently pointed out, many successful farms are barely profitable and rely heavily on volunteer or un-/under-paid labor. Of course, these two approaches are not diametrically opposed, and fairness is possible in both scenarios. The issues come up, I think, when the two parties aren’t on the same page. In many conversations with mentors and mentees alike, I’ve come across examples of people feeling exploited in both positions - farmers who invest time and money training what they regard as long-term staff only to have them leave after two seasons to start their own enterprise, or apprentices who work very hard for very little money and end up feeling taken advantage of by a less-than-enriching experience. Circling back to my initial point, it seems that many of these “master farmers” have well-established and well-oiled apprenticeship programs, where they communicate their expectations clearly and attract applicants who sign up with the intention of working hard while learning from someone who knows what they’re doing.

So why didn’t I choose to go the “master” route? I did, after all, choose to attend what is arguably the most famous college in the world, which I don’t regret in the least but which could be seen in retrospect as not necessarily working towards my current goals. It might follow that I would choose to take the same approach in my current (re)education, seeking out equally shiny names in my chosen field. Truthfully, I did initially look into some of these “big name” farms, going so far as to interview at one before encountering an example of the difference in goals I referred to above. In hindsight, there are a few reasons I ended up where I did. First, I wanted to be closer geographically to Future Farm to prepare for my impending transition to start-up mode. While the greater Midwest certainly has some well-established sustainable farms and a few luminaries, the apprenticeship culture isn’t as developed as it is on both coasts, where most of these “masters” farm. The other main reason I didn’t go the “master” route is not a flattering one: I am not suited, personality-wise, to learning from any one person. I am genetically predisposed to be a know-it-all, and I haven’t necessarily worked very hard to curb this less-than-ideal tendency. I’m afraid I bristle at the notion that anyone could tell me the “right” way to do something, to be honest, and the idea of going to learn from someone who has perfected a system might be more than my fragile ego could bear. I’m sure I didn’t acknowledge this reasoning the last two winters during my search for farmer-mentors, but in hindsight this might have been the primary (if subconscious) reason I ended up at the Boersons. Over the past year, I have been included (for better or worse) in planning, decision-making, troubleshooting, brainstorming. I have felt like an integral part of something that, at the end of the day, is not mine. I have worked hard for very little money, but I have gained in other tangible and intangible ways and felt perhaps over-appreciated while doing it. I am consciously trying to become a better receiver of knowledge, but in the meantime I am so happy to be where I am: learning with the best, peering forward together from February to the promises of the season to come. 

Farm Week: October 6, 2014

The light is different. I’m no longer turning away from the sun. It’s lower in the sky, and I’m turning my face up to meet it. This week was further along the countdown to the end of the season. We have two boxes left, and Friday was the last outdoor market in the park in Green Lake. We are slowly peeling off layers just as we’re starting to put them back on. We did the first round of our chicken harvest, and seeing even thirty fewer chickens in the field is a good feeling. Our last pregnant sow of the year (Dot), has been big as a house for weeks. Every day I would go out and do chores and she was bigger and lower and fuller than ever. Every day, it was with disbelief that I reported that no, there was no little pile of pigs out there. Along with the creeping frost and the falling leaves, the ever-ballooning sow contributed to a strange week where time simultaneously sped by and stood still. This week more than most, we had to stop to think about what day it was. Thursday brought the annual organic certification inspection, a five hour process that also contributed to the smearing of the time-space continuum on the farm. The peppers and the tomatoes in the field are wilted and dead. The greenhouse is half empty, planted with some lettuce and awaiting the winter spinach. The sow finally farrowed on Sunday (pictures to come), large enough to feed all eight pigs for years. Time passes. Frost falls, and the sun comes to save us. One of these days, the sun will be too low and the frost will stay. Until then, we’ve got some more harvesting to do. 

Thinking about: paperwork, processes, socks

Eating: homemade Indian eggplant and potatoes and cauliflower with rice; arugula with grated carrot, daikon radish, and apples tossed in a creamy lime sriracha dressing; lentil soup with homemade wheat oregano breadsticks

Reading: Lena Dunham’s Not That Kind of Girl, John Darnielle’s Wolf in White Van, MOSES’s Guidebook for Organic Certification

Farm Week: November 11-15, 2013

This was the last week of the season here at Chubby Bunny, which was certainly a bit bittersweet. On the one hand, I can't imagine another week of frozen hoses and frosty harvests. On the other hand, I'll really miss the people here and living and working in such a beautiful place. This week, besides dealing with the aforementioned frozen hoses during frosty harvests, we mulched the garlic and did some general clean-up around the farm. Besides that, there were many people to spend a last few hours with, and lots of general "last times." The other three apprentices will all be back next season, so the goodbyes for them are only temporary. I'm sure I'll be back to visit soon, but it's not the same as knowing I'll be back in April.

Leaving is certainly hard, but I'm looking forward to so much this winter that the car is already packed and I'm ready for a thousand-odd mile marathon home. Next weekend, I'll be meeting up with two of my favorite people in my favorite city, Chicago. Then I'll get some quality time with family in another of my favorite places for my favorite holiday - I can't imagine a better place to spend Thanksgiving than southwestern Wisconsin. December brings a very exciting farming conference at Stone Barns, followed by almost three weeks with my grandmother and many many cousins down in Argentina. I'm definitely not the biggest fan of extreme heat or beaches, but after these last few weeks of cold feet and hands a palm tree Christmas doesn't sound all that bad. All in all, the next six weeks bring so much to look forward to that I won't have too much time to spend missing this place - yet.

Thinking about: transitions, efficient packing, westward ho!

Reading: nothing!!

Eating: goodbye dinners, cowboy steak and corn pudding, shepherd's pie, sweetest spinach, the last of the eggs

 

Farm(s) Week: October 28 - November 1, 2013

I started off the week with another two days at Essex before driving back down to Chubby Bunny to continue business as usual. I won't be working at Essex next season, but I definitely enjoyed my week there, met some awesome people, enjoyed the beautiful surroundings, and learned a ton.

Back at Chubby Bunny, I hopped back behind the wheel of the trusty veggie van down to White Plains, which means that I drove almost the entire length of the Hudson River between Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning! The rest of the week was pretty laid-back. Our harvests have gotten progressively easier as we start to harvest our bulk root crops - for half of our crops we just have to count and wash crops we've already harvested. Dan took the crew out for lunch on Friday, and it was a novel experience to time together sitting down and actually facing each other.

The season is really winding down, and there will only be two more weeks of work here on the farm. My November is quickly filling up, and my winter is taking shape. I'm looking forward to making a dent in my tall (and getting taller) pile of books this winter, and this blog will be taking a different form over the off-season, replacing regular weekly updates with more essays, book reviews, poems, etc.

Thinking about: social engagements, friend reunions, windchill

Reading: Wes Jackson's New Roots for Agriculture, Jacqueline Winspear's Leaving Everything Most Loved, John Cheever's Oh What a Paradise it Seems

Eating: oatmeal with fresh raw milk, apples, cranberries, and maple syrup; spicy pork-shoulder cooked in onions, garlic, and homebrewed IPA