Happy Bench Monday – Farm Edition
(Or Seven Turkeys On A Ford)
There comes a point where the romance wears off and you realize just how much hard work is involved in sustainable farming. I think I reached that point on Thursday.
Don’t get me wrong: there is a part of us that does not want to leave at the end of this week. Good food, good people and a culture we enjoy. Not to mention fulfilling work in something we believe in. And there is so much more to know about sustainable housing, animal husbandry, beekeeping, rotational grazing, preserving…we could be here for years and still learning.
But we didn’t sign up for this internship to learn how to farm. We signed up to find out if this is something we want to do in the future…if we’re cut out for it or if doing it ourselves would totally kick our ass.
We feel strongly about sustainable, small-scale farming. We feel strongly about raw milk and organic vegetables and grass-fed meat and free-range eggs and seasonal fruits all being a part of local and sustainable eating. We feel strongly about dislodging ourselves from the mainstream culture of disconnection from our food and its source, as well as our over-consumption of energy, water and other resources, and the waste inherent in such choices.
I have, on occasion, spoken to older generations and expressed our interest in living this way. It comes from a desire to live simply and feel more connected to our food, our land and each other. So many of us are disillusioned with The American Dream of bigger houses and smaller lots and manicured lawns and 60 hour work weeks for someone else’s benefit all while drifting further and further from each other and ourselves. And we look into the past with a sense of wonder and awe and we feel it. We feel in our bones that this disconnection we’ve bought into cannot be better than the alternative of a life lived slowly. But almost every time I’ve had these conversations I’ve been met with dubious smirks. They remember those days of hard work with little of the same romance, they would never trade the convenience and ease of modern life for home canning and handmade clothing again and they chock our exuberance up to youthful ignorance.
Were we ignorant?
For the past several years we have essentially dreamed of what we are now experiencing. And let me tell you: it’s not as romantic as it sounded.
It’s not as if we didn’t know it would be hard work. But we didn’t really know in the way you know when you’re shoveling hundreds of pounds of wet debris out of an irrigation ditch. We didn’t really understand just how much we’ve become complacent to endless and abundant options until you remember the only tomatoes you have are the ones canned last summer. We didn’t really appreciate the cost of food until we experienced the labor inherent in milking a pint of milk from a prancing goat who kicks it over just as you finish.
We “knew” these things, but you just can’t get it until it’s in your hands.
In the few weeks we’ve been here we’ve seen little of each other and can already feel the strain. We’re tired and busy and working on different things. It’s tough to not see much of the people with whom you so enjoy spending time…even when you’re both doing something you love.
So, could we do this? If this was “ours” would it be different? Could we wake up, day after day, with no break and an endless number of chores and projects and not go insane, get antsy or feel exhausted with life itself? Could we prevent the stress from getting to us as a couple and still find time for each other and our child?
If we only had own hands and a piece of land to rely on, could we sustain ourselves? Or are we doomed to rely on outsources and inputs and a system we neither trust, nor wish to support?
I don’t yet know.
Overall, I’m glad we came, even if it asked us more questions than it answered. It’s given us an appreciation we only thought we had.
One thing I know for sure: We could never do it alone. Part of what has made this difficult experience fun is the “community” built with the many friends and volunteers that have come and gone. Milking a cow in the cold is drudgery. Milking a cow, cooking meals, washing dishes, running from rouge turkeys, thinning carrots and taking funny Bench Monday photos while talking and laughing is something we have loved.
I’m interested in your thoughts on this…
I'm Tara Wagner, life coach and creator of the Digging Deep process, where I coach women out of survival mode to recreate their lives and families.
I already know I could not do what YOU are doing – I am attached to my house. But, we feel drawn toward sustainability, also, though not to the same extent, obviously. I guess my feeling is that if everyone does some things more sustainably, and we do it in a diverse way, the overall consumption equation improves, right? So, we grow some of our own food, and we choose local meat suppliers, etc. There is a balance between never stepping beyond your comfort zone (which makes us soft and lazy) and stepping too far into something that exhausts and depletes you. It has to be a cost benefit analysis: the benefit to the Earth and/or humanity or whatever cannot cost so much of yourself that you lose the ability to continue doing it. And it is true that us young’uns (lol) probably over-romanticize the past, BUT it’s worth pursuing, it HAS to be. And there are fascinating ways to combine new knowledge and technologies to old-fashioned, simple processes. It’s all very exciting! Don’t deplete yourselves!! I worry about you
(Sorry to write an essay…)
Wow. You have articulated thoughts I have been having for the past few years. They are thoughts that started out with getting sick and tired of eating at restaurants, which led to learning how to cook, which led to where we are now. We are feeling called to the Real Food Movement, as well, and we are about to start a trip around parts of the country, also, but not to the same extent as you guys. We’re just a couple of 30 somethings, with a little boy, who are terrified that he won’t know a life apart from the surface ideals that run rampant now. I’m scared…that I won’t equip him to be able to sustain himself if the crap hit the fan, and the grocery stores didn’t exist anymore. I don’t want this life they are trying to shove down our throats…but, I’m scared I won’t be able to do it, either. I think you hit the nail on the head, though…it’s going to take community. We don’t have to live this consumerist life, even though we’re marinated in it…but, we’re all going to have to work together. I’m rambling, but that’s what I feel in my head, right now. Thank you for your words. I’m very inspired…I’m moved, and it feels great to know that the fears going on in my head are going on in someone else’s as well. Makes them seem not so big, you know? Thank you.
Sometimes I watch my friends that stuck with their 32-40 hour a week jobs and I wonder why I left. I wonder if I actually get less *quality* time with my family. Their days are mostly predictable. Many of them don’t have their kids in a ton of activities to they go home at 5pm and have a nice dinner and evening together. On Friday afternoon, they leave their work at their desk and head home for a family-focused weekend. My schedule is flexible and I determine my hours…but that also means the stress of wondering how much I will bring in and *if* it will be enough…and if not, I need to devote more hours to marketing. I dream of a *small* family farm, mostly devoted to low maintenance fruit trees and an enormous vegetable garden. I would probably still shop for items that are more difficult to make in small quantities and dry peas/beans/rice.
I’ve been there. Hoping for a life that is a small holding, a vegetarian farm… Unfortunately, I came to the conclusion that it’s not for us. We lack the skills, we are challenged with DIY so the constant repairs needed and small building projects would become and insurmountable hurdle for us. And my skills in growing food are lacking… but that’s just me.
I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up on a little farm in the future. You seem to be ironing out all the ifs and whens and doubt a little and then do it anyway – successfully.
Good luck.
Hello,
I am glad to have found your blog. How wonderful to be doing an intern… as our family has traveled on a journey towards an intentional, community and family based life not based on money-making and dropping out of the consumer driven society, we have found pros and cons and struggles and joys. Overall, the hard work is worth it, it truly is… we farm on a very small scale and the rest of our income is mostly from making natural toys and rustic home decor. We are always learning and increasing our homesteading skills.
I so enjoy reading about the ways of the past – without electricity and have concluded that life was truly simpler then, but was all of the hard work worth the simplicity???? that is something i am still reading about and learning about.
For two years we lived with our six children in an off grid mobile home and I scrubbed our clothes by hand, carried water and had lanterns at night. Those were some of both the best days and the hardest days…
Everything is a give and take I guess, and maybe it comes down to living intentionally minute by minute and taking a look at the big picture from time to time to make new goals or let go of ones that didn’t work .
Glad to have found your blog.
Warm wishes, Tonya
We have a share at a local organic csa. I have seen how much Jill our farmer works and her apprentices. Her children are raised and they were sent to school during their growing years. Personally I know that lifestyle is not for us mostly because my husband does not want to be a farmer. He’s a technical guy and farming, although it does have some technical aspects is a lot of dirt work.
I think the life you are imagining is possible in a communal setting where you are in a community of families & individuals who each contribute something to the whole. The idea is not that everyone needs to grow ALL their own food but that we each have a gift(s) to offer and we should work together to support each other in pursuing our gifts and interests.
That’s my pie in the sky (I’d rather write and take pictures than farm) dream.
I love your photo–frame worthy!! It has always been “my dream” to have a farm and to live off grid. Not my husbands dream! He is a small business owner and sensibly knows the farm life is twice as much work as the way too much work he has now. I helped on our CSA for several years. It was such hard work-filled with surprises -bad growing weather, bug problems, animals etc.. So hard. But our farmer loved it and continues to do it every year. She says the monetary pay off is minimal. But that’s not why she is doing it. A community seems like such a better way to go.
Oh I LOVE that photo!! I want a big print to hang on my wall. What an amazing experience you are having! We live in one of those subdivision manicured lawn neighborhoods. So not us. But it was the best choice 4 years ago when we bought. A part of me has always been dreaming of the day we are on a bigger property with our animals and garden and in a more natural environment. But I’m not a patient person. So we do what we can now while we still dream of that perfect property. We garden a small plot in our backyard, we rent space at a farm a mile away and milk our goats and collect our eggs, we shop at the farmers market, preserve food, and study study study the life we want to live. My point is – I like this spot between a ‘mainstream’ life and the country life. It allows us to not be overwhelmed by full on farming, but ease into it and not let it kick our ass. We’ll just continue to learn and experience until we have a real grow up farm someday.
ditto what renee said and after peeking at her blog, she totally gets where i’m at (and i’ve been where you’re at too m’dear but now i’m learning to follow the dream process step-by-step reality in my head to see if my heart’s still flying at the end of the fantasy) — i’d rather write, heal, whatever and earn enough to support others in their dreams…and i believe a community of many souls with unique gifts to contribute to the dream of sustainable living can create that reality…(incidentally, vagabonding as you’re doing is one of my many dreams)…
My thoughts …
People moved slowly from elbow grease to convenience. To throw yourself smack back into it is shocking. I take the approach of slowly and steadily moving closer to sustainability. There have been seasons in our life (like adopting our latest two kids with severe issues) where we have had to back up again for various reasons.
We are oozing in that direction. I’m working hard right now to connect with my community around me. I have my egg guy, my milk guy, my compost/green house guy, the winemaking guy the bee guy, the vegetable guy. And all together, that’s really just four guys/families. They are making plans to rebuild an old turn-of-the-century general store which will only sell and promote local items.
I feel like I have nothing to give, and so I keep talking and one of the men lit up when they realized I could build them a website. Cause ain’t NONE of them can do that.
I can also organize and categorize and all the stuff that they could care less about. I can haul eggs and check temperatures and always, always be taught something new, or allow some of my tiny land to be used for bee-loving flowers and berry vines for wine, etc.
I’m oozing.
My milk guy is 100% self sustaining. I actually have never MET my milk guy. They are getting almost totally off the grid and are very cautious about who they meet (meaning – I CAN’T WAIT TO MEET THEM AND WILL WAIT TO BE INVITED). My egg guy who knows milk guy and brings it to us, WANTS to be completely self-sustaining. He’s way farther along than we are, yet HATES to eat healthy. So, I share recipes and tips with his wife and he cusses us behind our backs. My green house guy is a retired professor. He and I are more on the same level, but he does drive into the city twice a week for research and enjoys that.
I do not miss the city. I can enjoy it, but do not miss it. Do not need it.
Ooozing.
OH, and years ago I asked a woman at church if she would teach me to knit beyond the mess I kept creating. She looked at me cross-eyed and said, “Honey, save your time and just go buy a scarf at JC Penney!”
How many people work on zero sleep, and cram everyone into a car at the crack of dawn, followed by screaming over homework and after school activities and housework and early bedtimes to just start all over again? Even their weekends are full of soccer and birthday parties.
You are about to leave people who COULD live in convenience, but they don’t. Some want it and crave it and will fight for it. But others choose to go backward … for a reason … and a passion … and the work is worth it to them. It feels clean and healthy and right.
Ooooooooooze.
My dad always had a farm, until he met my mother. He grew up on a farm that they lived off of. He had to drop out of school to help out his parents. They raised grass fed meat, grew there food, had free range chickens,, etc. My grandpa instructed my dad to kill a pig. He did, and will never do it again. They had a pet goat that went everywhere with the family,, even in the car!
When he got older and move out he bought a old house with over 15 acres of land that had a brook. That is where I was raised for 8 years. We had chickens ducks and roosters. Before he met my mom he lived off the land mostly. We lived in New Hampshire so it is very hard to JUST live off the land.
My dad is awesome. He built everything. fixed up the house to hold 3 girls, built 2 sheds that people could live in, made the chicken coops and took care of all the animals himself. ( I helped and collected eggs but I would play with the chickens more then help)
He is a very hard worker, and for that small very mini farm he worked VERY hard.
When I was 8,, a Fisher cat starting killing the animals. That was to much for my mom so my dad gave in and bought the huge house on a small lot with a nice lawn.
It takes a community of people to have a big farm. Renee said it best. You can also have kids volunteer during the summer to help out! Alot of kids love to see farm animals and help out. Also now that eating locally and sustainly is going mainstream, more neighbors will be willing to help out.
When I have the funds, I am going to by myself a peice of land and start very small, then grow..
If the outsources and inputs of a system we neither trust, nor wish to support is also unsustainable…and the other option is something we “can’t” do, then where does that leave us? We’ll become extinct
I’m pretty sure we were never meant to do it alone, anyway.
Travis and I are pretty sure we are headed in some form or fashion toward the cattle industry. More of us need to become the standard again in a world of total lawlessness and unrighteousness. Even if you don’t realize it, that is what you are doing in so many ways. Thats godly. And, if something is in His will, what have we to fear?
I think I’m about where you seem to be finding yourself. On one level, I would love to live off grid, be utterly self sufficient, totally in touch with nature. But in reality I know that the relentless work involved in doing so, the effort that it would take each day just to survive, is more than I could sustain, and not something that Mike is interested in sustaining at all. Whilst it may be grounding, it may be for the greater good, in many waysthe reality of that life becomes solely about surviving, with little room for fun, togetherness or seeking the enriching experiences that nourish our souls. Working for a common goal doesn’t necessary equal spending time together as a family in the idealist way.
The middle way, as you suggest seems to be to live in a community where on a slightly larger scale self sufficiency can be achieved by a trade off in talents – I for example, love cooking, cleaning (well, I don’t love it, but I can do it, and do it well), writing, organising, looking after children (I’d love to teach) and have a good head for figures and accounting. I would happily bring those talents to the table in a community where there was someone who would do the milking, egg collecting, animal husbandry etc.
At the moment, we don’t live like that, but I do endeavour to shop locally, seasonally, to support local artists, buy handmade etc. It’s close to my ideal, about as close as I can get at the moment, although I remain open to the possibility of taking things further as and when the opportunity arises.
Oh yeah, it’s hard work. That’s why I am only doing what is easy and fun and can be done by one woman with a mission right now. I don’t want to burn out on any of this now, while we still have choices, before it gets to the point we don’t. I am skill building and dabbling, while I rely on my local community to supply what I don’t have time or energy or inclination to accomplish myself. Thankfully, I live where I can outsource and it is still sustainable and up to my standards.
Abundant energy (oil) has given us so much leisure time. But life is work and hard at times. It is easy to forget that when you can use your oil slaves to do it all for you. But hard work does not have to mean drudgery, as you have discovered. We just have to find ways to work smart and work together.
If it were your own operation, you could find ways to have time together and keep the relationship strong. It would be your choice as to what to do, and you could back off if it got to be too much.
BTW, LOVE the picture!
God, I love your pictures!
This is still a dream of mine, too, but I have my doubts, as well. I grew up on a goat ranch, so I remember how often I slacked off because the work was endless and grueling.
I think the answer is just what you said: community. You must be able to have the farm open to visitors, classes from local schools, and when they arrive, hand them a shovel.
I have often thought about doing a partnership with local schools – have at least one group of kids over every week and have them do hands-on work on the farm. I think that is more valuable of an educational experience than anything!
I can tell you this, my great grandmother, Essa Orlean Hawkins, who lived to be 100 (died 2003), said, “You don’t know hard work, until you’ve picked tobaccy all day in the hot sun.” Listening to her talk about how difficult everything was made me believe that it wasn’t all butterflies and flowers. She also did not like antiques much, which I love, my whole house is filled with them. I have her 20′s era waterfall bedroom set in my Sadie Anne’s bedroom. Essa loved modern conveniences and relished in using them. Although, she did not like my grandma’s (her daughter) Toyota, she called it a death trap and or a tin can. She would only ride in the Crown Victoria (a huge car) LOL. As the greatest generation of people to ever live passes on, we could learn a lot from them. They saved money and were extremely frugal because they had to be, not because they wanted to do that. They did things the hard way because they had to. Essa mixed the handmade/homemade with the modern and easy. I have always looked to her and my other wonderful Grandmothers for marital advice (just observing their relationships as I grew up was a huge help in my own life), how to sew, crochet, create things with my own hands, cook, how to be frugal, how to clean, how to use home remedies, and to be happy.
In my own life, I am entrenched in the past. I love anything old, antiques, people, my house is 106 years old, I love the styles, (my kitchen is kind of a mix of 40′s / 50′s) and I mix old with new and traditional. I do love doing things the hard way, I am going to try making my own lotion this weekend, I enjoy canning some stuff, (a dying art), but yet I also love the easy things too.
So really this is a long way around saying that mixing the old ways with new techniques is a good thing, and can be a sustainable way of doing things without sacrificing your family life. I think you can find a happy medium, you are a very bold person and strong willed, you will find your way, you have to.
It sounds like an amazing experience, no doubt. I admire people who are able to do it. I know it is not for me.
Physically there is no way I would be able to live that life. I also don’t know that I think my kids would like it. Declan, yes… but I don’t think the girls would like it for long.
The idea of a community, though? Oh, yes… that we would love.
Imagine a community of peaceful parents and families living together with a sharing of talents. In my mind it would look a bit like Sturbridge Village (with some modern amenities) A bunch of free range kids living in freedom together? Now THAT I could do!
First off that picture is one of your best by the way. Very creative and interesting.
Does anyone live this life style sucessfully on thier own? Your friends at Ironwood have a great thing going and stand as a good example to follow, but they do not do it on thier own. Thier intern program is based on mutual benifits. Interns learn to live sustainable while share the farms work load. Ironwood has an irrigation system shared with neighbors. I’m sure there are many others we have not read about as well.
At the turn of the previous century communities where not made of small cities within a big one like today. A community was made up of a group of like minded farmers who would wrok together. If someone had a barn to raise everyone showed up. People would trade milk for eggs or bread for corn. If you have something to give and someone else has something you need you simply trade.
Finding this kind of community today could take some time and the community platform could look alot different today. Imagine have a group of unschooled childern that could take turns spending time with every parent giving other parents much needed alone time. Crop rotaion could be practiced between farms so you might have one full crop this year then something different next and share your bounty with each other.
Their is no doubt that living simpily is a lot more work. Makes you wonder if the term is incorrect. We live in an appartment and I garden in containers. Our goal when the time is right is to sell this box in the sky and move out of the city and onto a hobby farm. The idea is to find our way into sustainable living and into true community. Your current gypsy lifestyle is an excited adventure and gives you the unique opportunity to explore and find places like Ironwood and when or if the time comes for you to settle I’m sure that RVing will have helped you find the place you want to be. Not to mention it is a great way to experience true sustainabiliy. Nothing like having limited resources and power to learn not to waste them.
As always I’m so glad to have this opportunity to follow along on you journey. Thank you for sharing
As much as I really like all of these farming type things things, I’ve never thought I’d want to do *only* that. And owning a farm means that’s all you’ve got time for. A co-op of friends and family to supply all our needs and still have time for other stuff is my ideal life.
i think i get where you’re coming from. i say i chickens, and i do, but then again i hate going out in the pouring driving rains like we’re having this week and i here i am not working on the yard/garden areas because it is cold and wet – certainly can’t hide inside if i get chickens – want the goodness and glory of having my own but wonder and worry if the day to day muckiness of having them would soon over shadow that joy…?…
You know you’ve got a community started already. Both online and the people you know and meet along the way. All we need is a place and a plan.
food for thought, for sure. thanks for getting my wheels spinning!
You are always learning, always driving (not literally LOL), and always *doing*. That to me is of the utmost importance whether your actions are sustainable or not.
I would write more, but I must find the baby! LOL
Love you guys!
Wonderful, wonderful post. I’m going to back and read all the comments later when I can truly savor them. What I’ve read so far is amazing, but I have babies to take care of right now…
I totally thought that photo was an old, professional one and now that I know it’s yours, I’m with the other commenters that want to blow it up and frame it! Please, sell us some copies!
Lisa
I like Christine’s comments. Particularly about the oozing part. For me, I get really gung-ho about things that I learn about. I feel like I can’t continue to live the way I have lived knowing something more…however, I have a decidedly convenience-loving partner. So, we s-l-o-w-l-y introduce different things like food, and I take over other things like buying supplies for the house (so, who’s to notice?) I dream about self-sufficiency and living off-grid, small-scale farming for veggies and a couple of animals and such…but it is decidedly *my* dream, and I’ll accomplish it one piece at a time, because, as was said before, our modern conveniences came one-thing-at-a-time, almost unnocticible, and that’s how I intend to acheive my goals. Otherwise, everyone gets too overwhelmed too easily and it’s so much easier to walk away.
As always, I am amazed by both your gorgeous photographs and your thoughtful and articulate expression of what you are learning on this journey.
We live in an agricultural county and have met many farmers up in the valley that feeds us. None of our farming friends and acquaintances were born into the life–they all adopted it. And they all work extremely hard year round, have hired help, and have specialized to at least some degree, cooperating and trading with their neighbors for everything from food to work to schooling. They do it because they love it and believe in organic food and sustainability–which is what helps them get through seasons of dawn-to-dusk labor and nights spent out in the storm repairing a fence or caring for animals. It is intensely hard work, of a type few of us are used to–at least used to, as you mention, day after day without foreseeable breaks.
I think there are two models for self-sustained farming: the very old model in which one produces for ones own family, probably eats fairly monotonously, and spends much time preparing for non-growing season because it is just not feasible for the labor from a single family to produce more; and the model up in our valley where families live and work together, hire seasonal labor, farm on a larger scale and trade/sell surplus via CSAs and markets. It does seem to me that though both of these models are, as you note, not all that romantic up close, they are both workable if you are able to live with the sacrifices that come with the rewards.
It sounds as if your greatest concern is how the family time and closeness would be balanced against ideals of self-sustainability–not all that different from how others might try to balance family life with regular working life, or family life with obligations to community. I admire that you are thinking this through, even more so that you are doing so in your blog where it can become a community discussion and food for thought. A very great gift in itself–thank you.
That photo rocks my world!
I think your answer… is an eco-village…. with us!
PS ~ We are thinking Hill Shade on the 12th or 13th. What are your plans?
I think for us, we’ll work to find a place somewhere in the middle. My husband is from a 4th generation family owned farm just across the river from where we live now. We’ll be renting our house until the day comes that one of the boys needs to take over the family farm.
The families in this area are what most people would call red neck. In my book, they are people who value the hard work and ART FORM called canning. They know a good farm raised cow or pig will NEVER be replaced in flavor by anything they can buy in a store. The ways and recipes that are shared are “gramma’s special recipe”. They are things handed down from family member to family member.
The thing is that these days, most of these families have “other” jobs. Their farm lives are a PART of their day. There are strong ties to community here. Strong ties to family. I think when you live it day to day, there does come a routine to things. There IS family time. These things are just tucked into daily life in new way than what most people are used to.
Although I adore the idea of being off the grid and living a 100% sustainable lifestyle, part of me realizes that something has got to give. In your case, if you are really interested in farming, perhaps you could join a commune where the daily tasks are shared. I’m personally not the commune type, but another option is living in a community where bartering and trade exists. For example, your partner does work on people’s houses and you do massage, in exchange for milk, eggs, meat, clothes and whatever else you need.
For us, we want to travel full time while living as sustainably as possible. To us, this means sailing. We will be relying only on the wind to get us where we need to go. Sure there will be electrical stuff on board, which is why our boat will have wind and solar power so we will be 100% off the grid. Our boat will also make it’s own water out of sea water. We could possibly grow an herb garden aboard, but we will need to rely on local fish and produce markets for our food. Cruisers actively use the barter/trade system. A local fisherman trades his catch of the day for used clothing for example. This becomes more commonplace in the more remote regions of the world (which we are insanely excited about discovering).
Now, we just need to learn to sail…
Loving this post and the conversation sparked from it.
So we all graduated from college and after being spit-fire pissed off realizing we couldn’t start from nothing b/c we had school loans (thus somehow lockin gus into the “system”) we went and interned on an medicinal herb farm in the Appalachian Mountains. We were an hour outside of Asheville, NC, living off of two small solar panels, using an spring fed, solar heated outdoor shower and meeting tons of super cool earthy people. We learned a lot and a big part of what we learned is that we don’t like to be too far out of town. We also found that we didn’t want to be scrapping. We wanted something within this system that we could call our own, something that felt like an investment for our future and we wanted to live in a vibrant community.
Thus, finding ourselves living in downtown Ithaca where we have tons of access to local, farm raised foods and great community.
Our dream is to have a simple place out in the country as well. We want to play a little country mouse/city mouse. Go out and build a yurt or cabin on a friend’s land and spend our weekends out there unplugged, foresting, hiking, building living pond systems etc. That’s what we’re working towards….finding the other half balance to our small urban lifestyle.
Eco-village, heard there’s a pretty cool one in Ithaca NY and Ithaca is just generally an awesome town. Check it out it you ever head NE.
I hear you so loud and clear. We bought a farm and hubby quit his job. We moved from one of the biggest cities in the world (Hong Kong) to a u pick strawberrry farm in the area I grew up. I grew up on a hobby farm with chickens and such, my mother had a huge garden, she froze and canned everything…..We took over a conventional (read chemical ridden) farm not knowing any better and began our journey. Now we are organic, we have diversified to include pigs and pickling cukes, we have NEW THIS YEAR chickens and geese and plan to get turkeys. We knew nothing of monsanto, gmo, eat local, eat organic, feedlots, etc 5 years ago. It’s been a journey.
It’s also a lot of work. We have woofs here for 5 or so months a year and it’s been fun. And busy. And sometimes we question if it’s worth it. The business is great, but we often feel we are so busy we have no time for our kids…..no time to camp, no time to go fishing, boating, We may back of the strawberry side and concentrate more on the animals – eggs, pork, veggie garden…..
The work. The weeds. It really was “easy” our first year when we didn’t realize how effective herbicides were…….NOT ones we sprayed, ever, but the ones the previous guy did……I could go on forever…..
I think that some of us (myself included) definitely idealize the kind of life you are experiencing. For me, I think there has to be something better than what you describe when talking about working an insane amount of hours for someone else’s benefit. I want something so different than what seems most available to us, but I cannot jump into big change, though. I have to take very small steps in any change.
I think it’s so exciting that you all are able to have a taste of what your life could be, if you so choose. Best of luck figuring this out.
I appreciated this post and the perspective on this. I agree so much that a sense of disconnection from the realities of being human (planting seeds, digging in the dirt, being in the warm sun, growing like everything else) and the joys and satisfaction of creating (delicious food, beautiful and functional things to use and have around us) can be a true suffering. That next part of the wisdom of elders (appreciating that we have so much more opportunity to choose what we’d like to produce for ourselves and the gift of being able to obtain other things as we need by buying them, even from somewhere else in the world if we have to) was also good to hear. There are so many opportunities now to truly choose a good and happy life and share it with others. (Such a blessing). It is so nice to experience a little bit of your life and travels through your blog and remember how much wider the world is than the narrow scope of my day to day life can seem some days. (It’s easy when it gets busy to forget that). Blessings on your wonderful journey.
hmmmm. Great food for thought. We have a similar dream of a small farm etc…And I have to say there are days when I question it. We have a small lots, a few chickens and a good-sized garden and even then I have days of doubt, laziness, and, sometimes, utter dread. Adding animals and all that comes with bigger crops is something I WANT but not sure I CAN. I am really looking forward to seeing you explore this question more. Interesting comments above, too. (and the photo is awesome!)
We started trying to grow a lot of our own food i.e. veggies, fruits, and raising chickens a few years ago and it is a ton of work for our little 1300 sq ft “farm”.
We also can enough stores to get us through until the next season is in bloom, try and live simply through slow cooking, reuse, reduction, etc. I like the comments on finding/creating a sustainable commune type situation where a few families could pool resources. Perhaps has society changes these types of things will occur out of necessity.
In Frith,
Devin
Nice to hear what you had to say. People are always saying to us “oh you’re so lucky. That’s what I want to do–” but they really have no idea how challenging it can be on the physical, emotional, and financial level. We are blessed and fortunate, but there is also a lot of sacrifice. Would I trade it? No. Maybe.
But sometimes I do envy those who are less tied down. I have RV life envy.
Great questions. And smart to try it this way to experience a little. We have always dreamed of some land and more self sufficiency, but have friends who farm and they work HARD. VERY hard. Usually one person works off farm, even if the farm produces to sell stuff. That leaves a LOT to the other person remaining. Or, if both are on farm, there isn’t a lot of income without a premium product and a lot of expertise and work (and interns). I understand why some farmers I know transitioned to only sheep, especially when their children grew up and moved away.
I love the lifestyle, but with my age and spine issues, no way I could do it myself. We probably will do some small scale off grid home in the future, and produce as much as we can on a very small/family scale, but nothing big. I’m happy we have friends to visit every month or so – we get to get outside, get into the barn, do some work and collect some eggs, but not all day every day.
Even if you don’t choose the lifestyle I think everyone should go spend some time on a sustainable organic farm just to get their hands dirty and see where our food comes from.
Yeah, the farm thing. My sister lives on a farm.. they work so hard. I don’t think I could do it. Some, but not everything. The list IS never ending. I like the satisfaction of a crossed off to do. But, I also know that when I am out there on her farm, the peace I feel. The connection to all that is, it is incredible.
You know what I think is so awesome here? That you are asking, questioning, not sure, and doing so outloud. That is inspiring and so appreciated.
Thank you Tara, I love how you put words to your sensations. I agree too, I feel the romance of it and know I would give up when it comes to growing food. For animals I could give it all, that´s just me. I just bought a picture from http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/ and I think that could be a great avenue for you to make money for your awesome photographs. They give the photos for free in low quality but pay for high quality. I would love to see you join them, I have heard good things about that site from a photographer friend.
with love
It is a lot of work! I am always overwhelmed by the thought of doing it all. But see I’m not even close to being self-sufficient or living sustainably…I’m just trying to inch my way there.
I’m not sure if I see the “romance” of it, though I do know what you mean. It feels so good to do these things. It feels good to work hard. It feels good to have the knowledge and skill. It feels good to do something good. But it’s so much work that I can’t imagine us ever living that way 100%. The beauty in it, I see, is having the knowledge to fall back on, having many self-sufficiency practices in place, and having an appreciation for the process–even if you don’t get to do it all yourself.
This week I did homemade dyed Easter eggs with a friend. It was practically an all day process, whereas using store-bought dye would have taken maybe an hour. But the end product was better and it felt good to do something the slow way.
Maybe those older people don’t want to go back to the slow ways because they have already experienced it. Maybe we should all experience it. I don’t think everyone will be in love with it, though.
As a small farmer and seed grower I can tell you it’s hard on the body, stressful as all get out, and at times, never-ending. There have been days I thought I could trade it all for a 9-5, steady paycheck, and benefits. Maybe months.
But when I am out in the quiet open-ness surrounded by the returning swallows, startled by the bellowing Elk, and enchanted by the Eagles overhead, I am home. I have learned to be exactly where I am (while hoeing a long row!), and to love the smell of Earth and the tug of my strong muscles…the dance of never ending chores becomes my yoga and I try to remember to breathe through it all…especially when I am down on my knees. Then I pray and remember that this is my church and this is my offering.
At the end of a long, sometimes lonely, and definitely strenuous day I know I have done something worthy. I know my work matters and that I pour all I’ve got into doing it well and taking care to take care of all I’ve been given.
It is not the romantic lifestyle that I had first envisioned. It’s better.
And this is a wonderful poem by an amazing poet!
The Common Living Dirt
Marge Piercy
The small ears prick on the bushes,
furry buds, shoots tender and pale.
The swamp maples blow scarlet.
Color teases the corner of the eye,
delicate gold, chartreuse, crimson,
mauve speckled, just dashed on.
The soil stretches naked. All winter
hidden under the down comforter of snow,
delicious now, rich in the hand
as chocolate cake: the fragrant busy
soil the worm passes through her gut
and the beetle swims in like a lake.
As I kneel to put the seeds in,
careful as stitching, I am in love.
You are the bed we all sleep on.
You are the food we eat, the food
we are, the food we will become.
We are walking trees rooted in you.
You can live thousands of years
undressing in the spring your black
body, your red body, your brown body
penetrated by the rain. Here
is the goddess unveiled,
the earth opening her strong thighs.
Yet you grow exhausted with bearing
too much, too soon, too often, just
as a woman wears through like an old rug.
We have contempt for what we spring
from. Dirt, we say, you’re dirt
as if we were not all your children.
We have lost the simplest gratitude.
We lack the knowledge we sowed ten
thousand years past, that you live
a goddess but mortal, that what we take
must be returned; that the poison we drop
in you will stunt our children’s growth.
Tending a plot of your flesh binds
me as nothing ever could to the seasons,
to the will of the plants, clamorous
in their green tenderness. What
calls louder than the cry of a field
of corn ready, or trees of ripe peaches?
I worship on my knees, laying
the seeds in you, that worship rooted
in need, in hunger, in kinship,
flesh of the planet with my own flesh,
a ritual of compost, a litany of manure.
My garden’s a chapel, but a meadow
gone wild in grass and flower
is a cathedral. How you seethe
with little quick ones, vole, field
mouse, shrew and mole in their thousands,
rabbit and woodchuck. In you rest
the jewels of the genes wrapped in seed.
Power warps because it involves joy
in domination; also because it means
forgetting how we too starve, break,
like a corn stalk in the wind, how we
die like the spinach of drought,
how what slays the vole slays us.
Because you can die of overwork, because
you can die of the fire that melts
rock, because you can die of the poison
that kills the beetle and the slug,
we must come again to worship you
on our knees, the common living dirt.
amazing shot!