It’s finally March
Farming is an act of faith. I am sure I am not the first person to make this realization, although it seems revolutionary to me because I am so new to farming. I can’t help but noticing, though, that as I put seed to soil during this uncertain future, I add, with courage, a tiny bit of hope that just enough of these plants thrive and sustain me through this new business adventure. And as I bid farewell to a few seedlings that fail as I learn, I put all of my energy into all those that thrive. Because it feels really good to focus on success rather than dwell on failure.
Which is how the month of March started.
In the distant background, I had heard about this virus originating in China, months prior. Thinking it was another hoax like all the other doomsday plagues that have failed to substantially materialize, or even a racist ploy against Asians, I ignored it. When I learned about people stocking up on toilet paper, I laughed out loud. I had never realized Americans had such a staunch commitment to personal cleanliness. My father in law mentioned longer than usual lines at Costco and empty shelves. I joked people must be stress eating, probably Red Vines™. But I was not under stress just yet. That is, until the month progressed.
Things had been ramping up at the Catering Company I worked for after their usual winter break and I was ready to get some positive cash flow after a lean winter. On our shopping list were more seeds to buy, compost and mulch, and a much needed new lawn mower to buy (repair outpriced the value of the old mower). This influx of cash was necessary to help build the farm foundation. Plus it would help pay the bills while we built the business.
My two favorite geese had returned for their short layover in Western North Carolina. They were honking to each other while they flew back and forth through the small valley in front of our holler until they continued on Northward.
The soil was slowly warming up and a few trees were starting to leaf out. We found evidence of our namesake, the spice bush plant, blossoming in the creek. John got bit by a mosquito. What seemed like all of a sudden, the relaxing days of winter were coming to an end, and my schedule was booked leaving me to worry how I was going to attach everything on the list. That fear lasted but a moment, because by mid March the impending pandemic gave me all the time I would need.
The Catering Company was forced to cancel events for the next few months, and I was immediately laid off. And since I’ve only been working in NC beginning last fall, I’m ineligible for unemployment — like denied. Ironic that this was the first time in my life I’ve really needed this support from my government.
My gut said “up your production”. My brain said, “Where will you sell the products?” Restaurants were closed. Farmer’s markets might be cancelled and/or stifled due to new regulations. A marketing plan based on networking and building relationships, allowing the business to grow organically, was now somewhat impossible. But the drive to put seed to soil continued to be undeniable.
Because I like other farmers also realized that if toilet paper was scarce, it wouldn’t be long before food would be scarce as well. At the very least, I would provide enough food to feed my family, and hopefully help others in need.
I also knew that other people would worry about their food supply, so I started way more plants than I would need. These should be ready by the first week of May and a list of available plants will be posted on the site (this is a good time to sign up for the mailing list fyi.) And I realize that everyone is scared and possibly suffering in their own way, so these plants will not be for sale, just give what you can to help cover the cost of the materials. I’m also happy to recycle the pots.
As I hear the fears of the pandemic escalating, so too does my workload take a steep incline, and as the days become busier and dinner happens later and later, the plan for the farm is evolving slowly. After we had kicked them out at the end of last season, this year we are hoping to introduce them back into certain sections of the garden through careful timing and grouping of crop plantings, keeping seedings and young plants protected with moveable fencing and other structures. There is no unemployment for chickens during a pandemic, pest management and fertility are still essential jobs.
As the month progresses, I’m spending time finalizing my crop plan, starting seedlings at a race track pace, and visualizing the future of the farm. Things like compost bins, a small work shed, seed starting area and hardening off area will be centralized. It’s so important to be practical.
But it’s also important to find a moment of joy in every day. So next to all the practicalities that make the farm more functional, I’m building a small place for beauty. I guess it’s a cottage garden of sorts, where I’ve moved in some of my smaller fruit trees and created a place to rest. It’s another one of those unmistakeable urges that come with such an uncertain future, but then again the future has always been uncertain, all the more reason to keep the faith.
