plants in the ground
so, it happened. our first plants are in the ground--about four hundred onions and four hundred leeks. long day in the field, but a monumental day in our personal histories—first plants for our first farm. we weren't sure if the occasion called for some sort of religious sermon, a hallucinogenic journey, or some sort of live sacrifice--so we just went with all three.
despite working so hard this week, and accomplishing every single goal we had on the to-do list, the background noise circling in my head has been one of uncertainty.
am I doing this right? do I know that answer? will this work? what tool do I need to fix that? how do these two pipes attach? that’s leaking. and so is this, this, that, and the other thing . what gear should the tractor be in?
as the half dozen plates spinning on the tips of my circus sticks wobble and teeter on their centers, I find solace in a foot rest and a cold brew after a physically, mentally, and emotionally dynamic day.
it’s not uncertainty. that’s not the right color. and even if it is, it’s the wrong shade. it’s just that my life as a vegetable farmer is but one year old. last year, as readers can attest, was spent mostly on learning the foundations of our animal operation based at fowler farms. no more than twenty five percent of my time—if that—or my education in agriculture, has been based on vegetables. and now, not only has my calendar shifted into high gear on an intensive vegetable experience, but I am involved in making or collaborating on a hundred percent of the decisions being made.
this is nuts!
how many onions do I need to grow this year? how often do I need to plant them in order to maintain a steady supply? how far apart is each onion planted from the next, and how wide are the gaps between each row? how much water do they require? when will they be ready to harvest? how do I harvest them? how are they best managed post-harvest? how much do I sell them for? how much bed space will it require to produce them? how long before planting it do I need to prepare that bed space? what field should I plant them in? and where should I buy my seed from?
I think I eat onion every day—every day for a long time, too—and I’ll never think about it the same way again. or any crop, or any food, or any animal for that matter. it’s just amazing the thought power, body power, and emotion that goes into food production—mostly unnoticed. how little it’s thought of, yet how clearly it matters.
in the long hike up the mountain of this season, we are simply approaching the piedmont. the change from following the leader to becoming a leader has been swift and intense, and the stratified depth of thought required to run a business has become clear in stimulating new ways. organization has become my number one priority—and breathing, to balance the heavy load.
luckily, I have the support of many. besides my actual family, who supports me in countless ways, and of course her, whose support allows me to live, I now have my new family—the backyard moon family—who is growing in numbers by the day. farmer j and farmer jack are on the ground, day by day, live action mentors. both are running their own fulltime careers and both take any phone call, email, or house call to assist my farming efforts in any and every way possible. it’s like having the best tech support in the world, all the time, and for everything.
my new cousin-in-laws to be, root y caro, and their seven month old baby-farmer, are quickly becoming blessings in our lives, and are working around the clock on this project as well.
my long time compadre uncle nick was inspired by an ihoc post written last week and decided to drive sixteen hours straight through the night “since he heard I needed labor.” accompanied by his faithful hound peter, he has in one week’s time locally acquired the nickname “good times nick”. a sub-lease has been signed, and nick is officially a new member of the backyard moon family.
other volunteers have committed to weekly work sessions, and students from the community have begun emailing to get involved. athens, unlike most places in the states, is a place where farmers are acknowledged and appreciated, and it’s quite a beautiful thing to be a part of.
after a hard week, and some head spinning efforts, I found myself confused and tired. I explained to nick that in a few months this will all be gravy like clockwork, and he consoled me with the backhanded, “naw, I’m pretty sure you’ll feel like this all summer.” and he’s probably right. but in all seriousness, I found great comfort in the support of this extended family.
at the end of the day, while questioning our accomplishments, and my abilities towards directing them, my friend farmer jack gave some golden advice: just don’t worry about it, and be happy with what you’ve done.
he’s right. and I am. it was a huge day—our first are plants in the ground.
I'm High On Cooking
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Cheers
jeff