LAST CALL AT THE BARn

Fire, flood, drought, disease, debt and disaster. Sounds like the first line of a poem but is, in fact, a synopsis of my farming career. And it is time to call it a day.

Most of you will already know that we have had a disproportionate amount of things happen to us since we moved here in 2013. While it's normal to have challenges, we have had to fight for the survival of the farm following a major incident around 3-5 times a year. That's an exhausting way to live. It chips away at your resilience. It's time.

We haven't really been able to recover from the 2016 fire. Financially, we are still struggling to find a resolution with the big corporation whose device started the fire and have recently taken on HUGE personal debt (again) to keep going. The personal cost to us for uninsured loss has been catastrophic and there has also been an almost daily battle just to get the things we were entitled too. Emotionally, we are still struggling - mainly with the personal resource required that continually fighting and repeatedly having to relive the fire every time we call or email the people who should be making this right! I would like to live this year in a way that doesn't require medication to keep me going. And schedule...we are still rebuilding when we should be farming. It's time.

On top of that there have been additional and significant changes occur, all of which came together and totally disrupted our existing business plans. These events left us looking at a million different scenarios focused on both keeping the business going and folding it. Eventually we realized that all of the options were crappy! Getting out is now just as hard as keeping going as we have invested so much in new websites, business cards, t-shirts, equipment, seed, etc. We have sold CSA shares, event tickets, etc that will all need to be refunded. But going on is next to impossible too regardless of the plethora of ideas for change we have run. We find ourselves caught between a rock and a hard place. It's time.

When you realize there is no preferably way to proceed, that there is no sensible plan or easier path, it becomes quite liberating. It's at this point you can let go of thinking about the business and just focus on what is right for your family. I am not strong enough to do what needs to be done to rewrite the business model and find people to get on board with us at this point in the season. Ian is drained with the battle too. He is the strongest, most resilient and reliable man on the planet, he's my absolute rock, so to see him bruised, battered and battle weary hurts my heart. Our kids don't really care! Not because they are heartless human beings but because they have become emotionally self-sufficient  due to us being so removed by the trauma, toil and tragedy of the farm. That's not ok. It would be one thing to continue if I believed that things would get better, but I don't. I cannot knowingly continue to fail them at this crossroads in pursuit of farming. It's time.

I am not special or more entitled than any one of you reading this. I can only expect the same from life that everyone else gets. I am not a religious person, or particularly spiritual. My life is fairly black and white usually. But I do now believe that for whatever reason, this was not meant to be. This is a sudden decision in as much as we were talking to chefs and customers about the season just 48 hours ago. However, we knew this year was our 'do or die' year. The year we had to turn things around and here we are at the end of January with every last option snatched from our reach. And it's frustrating because it should have worked! Our business plan and financial forecast showed a strong year, but fate it beyond our control. It's time.

There are lessons to be spoken and commentary to be made. There are 'thank yous' to be said. But not now, we just have to reel for a little bit before we can collect our thoughts and strength and let all our farm supporters how much we have appreciated them. It's time.

The final breakdown

I'm writing this post before I change my mind. It's like a real-time update if you will. It's going to sound mopey and mauldling, but please do not post sympathy comments. You see, it is New Years Eve 2015 and I am mid breakdown. And I can't decide if it's a real 'beginning of the end' episode or if it's a 'end of the beginning' process.

Let me set the scene. As I mentioned it's new years eve. I had purchased a family ticket to the festivities on Grouse Mountain. But, I am sick so have sent mia familia off to enjoy themselves. There's certain factors playing into my perceived breakdown that aren't farm related at all. Sickness, for example. I keep having to stop & curl up in the fetal position while waves of stomach pain wash over me. My loving husband was unable to fulfill my requests of medicine and supplies because he could not stop working on the greenhouse in time to go to the store. I am also without any means to light the wood burning stove (it's going down to -7 tonight) so I am confined to the bedroom, the only room with any other form of heating.

I was actually in a rather calm state of mind as everyone left, quite relieved to suffer alone. However, I got up to try and light the fire and had a bout of stomach pain at the same time. The combination of the pain, profuse sweating, the no-fire predicament and the aloneness bought on unexpected wailing that, quite frankly, I was unprepared for. You see, it was not just a sob but consisted of loud cries of "I've had enough, oh god, I've had enough"....repeatedly.

What is going on with me?! Two scenarios present themselves to me.

The Beginning of the End: I have to confess that I've been struggling with the 'why we are here' dilemma. 2015 has been a great year for the farm in many aspects; achievements, recognition, awards, events, new products, new ventures, etc. but it has also been another extremely challenging year in other ways: the ongoing well issues, drought, the loss of animals, ongoing financial challenges, relentless work and relationship difficulties with my oldest daughter. I've used two analogies to summarize all this recently. The first I think I've heard somewhere before and I've adapted. I told Laura that my life is like a bar stool. 4 legs, and each one represents part of my life. Finance, Family, Work & Health. Again this year we struggled with money, family life is difficult, work is unmanageable, and although our health is generally good, we are having some challenges with our well-being too. A stool cannot stand up with all it's legs broken.

The second analogy relates to Ian, my incredible hard working and long suffering husband. Again, something I think I've heard before and plagiarized but living with Ian, a type-A, perfectionist and workaholic, is not always easy, despite the fact that I love him very much. I sometimes feel like he is driving along in a truck and I am not in the passenger seat but hanging on by my finger tips to the window. Sometimes I slip back to the tail gate and have to claw my way back to the window, but I still can't quite make it into the cab. It's great to have a motivated and ambitious husband but with all this hanging on, I'm getting bruised. I'm gathering scar tissue and I'm not sure I will ever take a comfortable seat as his passenger or if I'll just find myself struggling to keep up forever.

The next scenario is less negative, The End of the Beginning. 2 years and 5 months we have lived here and in Ian's very modest words "We've built an empire". It's true, we need to give ourselves credit for what we've achieved, how we've hung on to our values and the compromise we've endured. We have faced road blocks at every turn but here we are, writing our business plan for 2016. Things have to be easier next year. We will have more people involved in the running of the farm, a team that I'm excited about. This winter we are finishing off building projects, fencing and roofing. We are nearly done so that pressure will be relieved. Last year we finished installing our walk-in fridge 1 day before the meat chickens were due to be processed. In fact, we were still finishing the chickens coop as they arrived! The pressure was constantly on, everything was last minute, we lived life on a knife-edge. This year, there won't be any of that....hopefully. Maybe I like the chaos? Perhaps I'm mourning not having the chaos as an excuse and I have to pretend I know what I'm doing. I'm still a rookie at this. Does being a martyr suit me? Oh god, is that what I'm struggling to let go of?

The Farming 'dream' is obviously not over for us yet. We can't afford to leave even if we wanted to. But big changes are afoot, some of which I can't talk about yet. I am excited about 2016 as much as I am resentful of the work that goes with this crazy life. I still have this niggling feeling that there is a remote homestead somewhere for me and Ian and the girls that offers peace and calm. Luckily, I am not being asked to make that decision today. The only thing I have to achieve today is pulling myself together.

Laurica Farm, winner of the Greater Langley Chamber of Commerce Business Award 2015 for Environmental Leadership

An open letter to Mother Nature

Forgive me, Mother Nature, for I have sinned. I have had traitorous thoughts about abandoning my eco-hippy lifestyle and reverting back to the dark days of luxury and convenience. I'm sorry, Mother Nature, I know it's wrong but Irony and Fate have had a part to play in my flirtatious feelings towards modern life. I know you are pushing back against the human race and the way it has taken advantage of your genourous disposition for so long and so recklessly, but do you, Irony and Fate need to push me so hard? Because I've been saying sorry for a long time. We've personally sacrificed to heal some of your scars and give something back. We've even pissed off most of our friends by advocating so vehemently for you. So why us, again? Is there any chance you could ask Irony and Fate to just back off for a year or so? Please? Pretty pretty please with an organically grown from non GMO seed, heirloom cherry on top?

You see, we have no water on the farm again and you need to understand what that has done to me. Remember Wellgate of 2014? The thing I said I'd never speak of again on this blog? The incident that cost us around $50,000? Well, the brand new Rolls Royce of wells has no water. Responsibility for the lack of water partially lies with you, Mother Nature. You sent no snow over the winter and no snow melt means the resovoires are not replenished. And don't make me bring up the lack of rain for the last 10 weeks. I'm pretty sure you're in cahoots with Fate over this well business but in case you're not, here's a brief outline of what Fate has been up to. He hid an underground lake! Extreme, right? I mean, the well drilling company have never seen anything like this in 3 decades of business. It appears that when we drilled the new well last summer, we hit that hidden underground lake instead of a running water stream. After a year of irrigation and you withholding water, we've emptied it. Now we have to drill down again to try and find another source of water. But it's ok, it's not like we've blown every cent and borrowed unmentionable amounts to build a permaculture farm to protect you, Mother Nature, from destructive Big Ag......oh wait, that's exactly what we've done. And Fate has put a roadblock in front of every single thing we've done/purchased/built. He's really been a big part of my bank managers stern looks and raised eyebrows. There's literally nothing in our home or on the farm that Fate hasn't touched and that guy breaks everything! Also, today Fate invited his buddy Irony to the party. You sent rain, torrential rain, and Irony kindly sheltered us from it. It got with 1/4 mile of the farm, but Irony kept us nice and dry.

I rebelled today. Guess what kind of unforgivable sins I have committed today? I'll confess. I went to my friends house after she offered to let me shower and do some laundry. I put two washing machines on at the same time! I selected 'hot wash', negating my responsibility to opt for the environmentally friendly cold wash. I didn't even care about using detergent instead of laundry seeds. In fact, it felt good and it smelt good.  I'm a laundry whore! And do you know what else? I put the washing in a tumble dryer to dry. That's right, no washing line. Ha! Rebellion! Then, while the two washing machines and tumble dryers were running, I took a shower. Not my usual navy shower, I left hot water running for the entire duration I was in there. Oh the frivolity! I then scrubbed myself clean with shower gel out of a plastic bottle, not the usual homemade bar of lavender soap. And do you know something? I LIKED IT! My frivolous ways did not end there. I drove around the corner to the shop after my shower. I could have walked within 2 minutes but what's a little extra pollution between friends? I was a little perturbed that the healthiest food I could buy for a snack was white bread and deli ham but whatever, I was living dangerously today anyway. Do you know what my kids said when I handed them the unknown pig parts from an anonymous pig between two slices of white, GMO bread? Yum! They said yum! They liked it. And my eye only twitched for a moment thinking about the pig I hadn't raised. Your barrage enabled me to step away from my values, it's so exhausting being self-righteous.

I'm only telling you this because I'm worried about you. Because Irony and Fate have been relentless in their assault of our resolve, we're asking some serious questions about the future of our dreams. Here's the thing. I'm not asking if we CAN make this work. It's crappy at the moment, but we'll somehow, maybe, probably find a way. The question we're asking is SHOULD we fight this battle? From a business perspective, yes, business is immense and exciting. From a personal perspective, I'm not sure. Even if we could figure out a way to finance drilling a deeper well without increasing monthly payments, we would still be accruing even more personal debt. And for what? For Ian to stay in a job he hates for another decade? For us to have no quality of life outside the farm into our 50's? To not be able to afford to help our kids if they decide post-secondary is important to them? To work so tirelessly that we get less time together as a family? That conflicts with all the reasons we did this. I knew it would be like that short term, but dealing with that as a long term reality is kinda tough.

So, Mother Nature, over to you. Can you get Fate and Irony in line? For us? We might be done here if you don't. And then what happens to this 5 acres of you, Mother Nature? A blueberry farm? I know everyone loves blueberries but that cash crop won't protect your soil. A developer? Do we need another 10 bedroom mansion with green lawns and a pony in the yard? 

Listen, this may sound arrogant, Mother Nature, but I know what we're doing here is a good thing. From a selfish perspective, I don't know how to live without the farm any more. I can't 'city'. What would I eat? Although I fell off the wagon today, I really wouldn't know what to do without our farm food. And the business. I just can't say goodbye yet. If I was an investor looking in from the outside, I'd want to be involved with Laurica Farm. It's an exciting time. How can I walk away? But then how can I not? Mother Nature, you've lead us on this path, tell us now what we should do.

Yours faithfully,

Desperate Farmer.