Subsidizing my farming habits

Every cloud has a silver lining, but sometimes you have to adjust your focus to see it.

This blog was always suppose to be about our transition into rural bliss. It has been hijacked by farming and financial drama and so far, bliss has eluded us. In my last post I talked about a substantial withdrawal from a majority of our farming activities while we rebuild, regroup and re-evaluate. A number of things have happened since then that have helped us focus on our ultimate rural-bliss goals.

First, we moved out of the RV's that housed us over this unusually tough Canadian winter, and into the treehouse that we have toiled over. Thank Goodness for Ian! What a trooper. While I assumed my position of apprentice and clean-up crew again, he transformed the underside of our existing tree house from a storage shed into a beautiful home. We will live here while we rebuild, and we're happy to do so. Moving in here and feeling the transition in my mood took me back to my days in social work. After visits to small, dingy, dark & inadequate homes, we often used to theorize on how environment, specifically housing, could impact a persons ability to make positive changes in their life. Moving into the small but gorgeous tree house lifted me and gave me the energy to look forward. I could even go as far as seeing passed the house rebuild to a time when we could rent this lovely space, an additional income that could cover half our monthly mortgage payments. The majority of the cost of this treehouse refurbishment has been covered by the emergency living fund from the insurance. Continuing to rent RV's would have been dead money but we've managed to turn it into an asset for the farm, and ourselves.

Of course, just because we can see financial incentives in the future, doesn't eradicate money troubles now, and once again, we've had to hustle. Ian hasn't had full-time employment since the fire and now that we have reduced our farming activities, we have cut our earning potential. We're no strangers to picking up casual and sometimes obscure work to make ends meet, and we certainly aren't work shy. Ian has been working nights salting roads and parking lots during this cold spell. In the meantime, I have had to take a serious look at where my time is most valuable. The outcome of that is that I should go back to work outside of the farm, with a view to easing the immediate financial challenges but also to relieve some of the pressure that will allow Ian to stay here and build the house over the summer.

So, I now have a job....and a home....like normal folk! Tomorrow I don pink and black scrubs and walk in as the new girl at a Wellness Clinic. A clean, sterile environment a world away from the daily animal poop encounters of the farm.

What does this mean for the bliss journey? It means we can continue to farm the livestock and look at manageable models for 2018. It means I can eventually subsidize my goat and piglet buying addiction. It means I can see us reaching our goal. Just imagine for a moment duel income, a rental income and a farming business of some description. It could enable us to stay here for good or give us the freedom of choice. Say, for example, we can keep living here for the next 10 years, we could potentially sell and walk away to a mortgage-free/debt free life with money in our pockets from the equity in the land. Ian would be 52, I'd be 48 and the girls will be 26 and 19. That's an appealing retirement plan!

The journey to us finding our bliss continues to snake its way up this rocky mountain road. The plans change with each hairpin bend in the road and the steep incline continues to demand every ounce of energy and commitment we can throw at it. Maybe it's taken disaster to make me realize that the road isn't paved with farming, maybe farming is just on the sidewalks?  But I can see the peak of the mountain now, for the first time, and it looks reachable.

Onwards and......backwards?

Last week, I sent a message to a few friends to prepare them for an announcement that we were pretty much going to wrap up the farm business this year. Not only have we faced continued challenges since the fire, the implications of which impact greatly on our farming season, but my foot injury has not healed as hoped and will not stand up to a full time farming season. We both need to secure a stable income to get through and subsidize the rebuild. And emotionally, neither myself or Ian are equipped to run headlong into a crazy year or markets, events and hard work. More and more I have found myself growing resentful of my role on the farm. I feel like a fraud when I call myself a farmer, I haven't really farmed for over a year as the business management had taken over my time and become on an ongoing source of stress and discontentment.

It was a hard message to send and had been a hard decision to make. A decision that was preceded by many arguments, deliberations and crying. Could it really be happening? Every time we've been pushed down (and there has been multiple times), we got back up with blatant disregard as to whether it made sense or not. But now, we'd called time on our endeavours.

The message I sent ended with a request not to contact me for a couple of days so I could avoid the embarrassment of breaking down in front of my friends. On reflection, those few days breathing space were a tonic. Why? Because it gave me the ability to reframe what was happening.

Can I really say we are giving up? We fully intend to continue with our pigs, our farming partnerships for beef and lamb and farm camps. It's veggies and events and all the other hair brained ideas I usually throw into our summer seasons that are being put on a back burner. So, maybe just a streamlined presence?

Out of loyalty to our supporters, we talked to a couple of local farmers about offering a service to our people. They were totally supportive and cool about doing that. Both Ashlee of True Grit Farm and David of Glorious Organics have CSA shares that can be offered to our customers, and both of those farms will be at White Rock Farmers Market, the market we will be leaving behind.

I keep checking in with Ian about how he feels about the decision. Ian is a man of few, not very expressive words so it's hard to gage his feelings. But me? I feel relief. I believe we are going into our first realistic season. A season where we can manage our farming activities and our life. I've entertained frivolous thoughts of summer weekend trips....a luxury that has been a fantasy the last few years. When people invite me to their events and dinners, I give it real consideration instead of my generic, farm-season, blanket 'No' response. I think I can reclaim my life and our family time a little. I've said it before but when we talk about sustainable farming, we have to include the farm being sustainable for the people running it too. Could this be the year we achieve that?

So much to dwell on, but in the meantime know this.....I feel freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

New life goes on with animals being born

Farming Relationships enhanced

Whatever doesn't kill us......right?

There is a blog post written that I was going to post just after Thanksgiving that will now go straight to the archives because it seems so incidental now. Why? Because just over a week ago, our house burned down. Thanks to a charging cell phone left on a chair, everything we own is now is in a dumpster and the house is beyond salvageable. I had to stand and watch, completely powerless, as our home and belongings went up in smoke. Tuesday afternoon, the day of the fire, we left the farm with the clothes we were wearing and nothing else.

Once again we find ourselves in crisis mode. It seems that we go from one to another and it leaves so very little time to appreciate the good times in between. There is good shining through this latest challenge though and that's the way our community is rallying around us. To be honest, I don't completely know what's happening out there is the real world, but I know there are efforts, primarily  led by Laura, to try and help us. I am eternally thankful. But a little detached from it all. Partly because of the limitations on our internet use due to the loss of electronics and wifi and partly because I just can't face opening facebook or any other social media platform right now. I can see that there are 357 facebook notifications for me but I just can't go through them. It's not that I'm ungrateful, it's that I'm unable. Undoubtedly my communication shut-down a coping strategy that I will be out of soon. I don't know if I will ever respond to every message, tag or comment but know that we appreciate every single word you all have written and every effort you have made. You've delivered clothes, money, food and your support to us in abundance which we are so grateful for. I thought we would have been ok as we have insurance, but in truth we would have really struggled without your generosity. Insurance companies move slowly and only cover a percentage of what you loose and apparently I'm not great at covering the basics in a crisis. The night of the fire, the emergency response volunteers gave us $150 each to go to Walmart and buy a few clothes. I believed that I was shopping super smart. I thought I had picked up Jessica a few items of clothes that would mix and match really well to create the illusion of multiple outfits. I also thought I had made smart purchases for myself, clothing that I could wear to the farm but that would look ok away from the farm too. However, Wednesday morning came and Jessica went to school looking like Super Mario and I looked like the angry teenage son of a lumberjack in ill-fitting jeans, a Marvel t-shirt and plaid hoodie which I wore all day button up wrong!

I would love to talk about what happens next and how we will rise from the ashes, but all I know right now is that are living in two RV's on the farm for the foreseeable future and demolition of the house will begin shortly. After that I just don't know. I have to catch up with farming and the farm business. We were suppose to be in planning mode for next season. I'm wondering how we rebuild a house and our lives while managing the farming season too.  Farm events are probably off the cards for next season, which was going to be our main focus, as the house is right in the middle of the farm and the place will be a building site for most of the summer events season. We're considering just picking one thing (farmers markets or CSA or something) and concentrating on that. We're also toying with the idea of establishing a farm cooperative to have more people involved in the running of the business, but that comes with challenges too. Maybe we'll hand the farming operations over to a Farm Manager, assuming we can find someone that enjoys being underpaid and over worked. We'll let you know as soon as we do.

Once again we are fighting for the farm and calling on our most resourceful selves to continue. If I'm honest, it has crossed our minds to leave this place; to rebuild and sell. In three short years, we have faced more adversity than some people deal with in a lifetime and we've questioned our ability to continue this quest.

In the meantime though, farm life goes on. Eight goats have been born in the last 20 hours, sadly three goats didn't survive. Five chickens and a duck have been killed by a raccoon and we're expecting a litter of piglets anytime, but there we go, that's the reality of farming. If anything in our lives is consistent, it's the unpredictability of what happens day-to-day on the farm. I'm now off to my neighbours to use her laundry as the few items of clothing I own are covered in blood, poo and placenta.

The Summer of Evolution

In my last post, I lamented about the unsustainable lifestyle of a small farmer. In all fairness, I do this every year at the mid-season point. This year though is the first time we have the luxury of not only being able to do something about it but actually having the opportunity to reflect, talk and plan. Almost everything we have done so far has been reactive instead of proactive so this is certainly a change for us. Ian and I just had a three day road trip (for work purposes of course, not a vacation or anything crazy like that). We were effectively shut up in a small space together with the agreement that we would not finish the journey without a plan for next year.

We began the discussion from a common ground, that we were not going to operate next year as we have been doing. However, I soon realized that didn't really mean the same thing to Ian as it did to me. Ian still had the same vision of farming but somehow being more efficient, whereas I was envisioning a smaller scale farming operation and a more streamlined business model.

Our differences were the only thing to be established on the first leg of our journey. Fortunately for us, the first leg of the journey was a mere hours drive to Kw'o:kw'e:hala Eco Retreat in Hope, a place so shrouded in tranquility, it was impossible to continue our disagreement and all thoughts of pushing Ian out of the moving truck subsided.

We left there with a desire to recreate this blissful oasis. We were certain that we could do it. We could continue to run a working farm that fed the guests of the eco-retreat that we would establish. After all, Ian is building tiny homes on site at the moment so there's the solution to guest accommodation. As the plans evolved, they got ever more elaborate & more expensive to implement. Regardless, we blindly talked about funding, building, barn conversions and outdoor showers all the way to Golden, BC.

Day three of the road trip, on our way back to the farm with the 12 piglets we had gone to collect, and focus returned. I had another "what the hell are we thinking" moment. Why are we even talking about finding funding, new building projects, etc.? That's not making things easier, it's just another way to work ourselves to death and accrue debt! The process of stripping it back had to start again, holding on to the objective that we wanted to do less...employ less people, work less hours, less input, less change, all while holding onto the things we enjoy. We loved the idea of the eco-retreat but in reality, that's not achievable for next year. It can remain the long term vision, but we need to take smaller steps to get there.

And so our plan for 2017 was finally agreed. We are going to scale back the vegetable farming - that's the thing that requires the most amount of output for the least amount of return. We will continue to grow but on a scale that we can manage for the number of people doing the work and only to supply our primary focus which will be events. We will continue with the animal agriculture as our meat sales are good. Generally our meat sales subsidize the vegetable farming and we use the animals to help us maintain well fertilized land for the veggie production. But we will decrease the CSA program and we won't go to farmers markets or run the Saturday market at the farm next year.

Long table dinner

Under the new rules from the Agricultural Land Commission, we are permitted to hold events on the farm, with certain restrictions. We intend to take full advantage of that and will schedule regular agri-tourism and learning events including long table dinners and workshops. We are set-up for events, there's not really much work to do to make them a regular feature and showcase local talent and businesses on the farm. We will organize educational programs for children and adults around food and farming. And why not, we're good at that element, we enjoy it and the farm is the perfect venue. We also have the perfect opportunity to cement this new idea when we host Feast of Fields in a couple of weeks.

School tours and kids camps

Fermented Foods Workshop and dinner

Ian and I have finally found a common ground. He certainly feels some grief for the elements we are loosing and continues to harbour unrealistic expectations of what we can do, but Ian is an over-achiever, that's his personality and the thing that pushes us to be successful. We both recognize that we are giving too much and sacrificing our personal and family time. We have a shared confidence that we can make it work with an organized plan for events. Farming here has to sustain us at the level we want to work or not at all. And I am happy with the decision. I believe we can make it work and we will enjoy it more. There are many people farming but not many people promoting agriculture and local food in the way in which we will embrace it. It will give us a platform to advocate for the things we believe in. And heck, we might have a bit of fun (and even the occasional day off) along the way!

The bar!

After dinner warmth in the gazebo

Ian the soux chef...apparently

Laura and I co-hosting a fundraiser with our neighbours

Chef Sean Bone preparing a Cinco De Mayo dinner

A Laurica farm advocacy group downtown

As night falls, the fun factor goes up

Bands in the barn

Writing the Next Chapter

We're currently mid way through our third growing season. Even saying those words surprises me because it's starting to feel like we have been doing this a lot longer. Every day I learn something new, but the initial "I have no idea what I'm doing" concerns are starting to subside a little and it's hard to remember a life before farming.

This season has been pretty good to us. Business has been much better than the last two years. Something has changed with people's attitudes towards the farm too. We spent the first two years pounding the pavements and hustling for business to build a decent following. From the very beginning of this year, it felt like we were finally cashing in on that investment. People are coming to us and we have not had to work so hard at selling product, getting people to the farm, involving chefs in our dinners, etc. In fact, Chefs are asking me if they can do events here and that's a good feeling. The farm is also co-hosting Feast of Fields this year. What an amazing opportunity to host the regions top chefs, producers and about 1200 foodies! We've had a fantastic article in the Vancouver Sun about our business practices and we are once again nominated for TWO Greater Langley Chamber of Commerce business awards. It was fab to win the award for environmental leadership last year and so to be up for Business of the Year and Entrepreneur of the Year blows my mind.

The summer has seen a huge increase in loyal customers coming to the farm for the Saturday market, arriving early at White Rock Farmers Market on Sunday to ensure they get their bag of salad and we've doubled our CSA clients - I'm actually turning people away who want to join the scheme half way through. We are at full capacity and the crops that we thought would last us into the winter are almost done and we are frantically sowing more. Crazy crazy times!

We have Laura here full time on the farm this year and we really couldn't manage without her. I feel quite indebted to her and the way she goes above and beyond the call of duty. Ian has now left his well paying job with benefits at PCL Construction to work for nothing on the farm! While that is terrifying in many respects, it's a huge relief to see the difference in Ian both mentally and physically. He is doing some time on the farm, a couple of days a week with a friend in construction and a few days building tiny homes on the farm as a new joint business venture with Laura's brother, Shane. Shane is also helping out on the farm and we have had some German home stay students who are working four days a week throughout the summer in exchange for board and food. While we could really do with more staff, we are managing and feel more on top of things this year than previous years.

All in all, apart from a torn foot ligament, things are going well for us. But that doesn't change the chronic mid-season blues and we've got a particularly nasty case of them this season. There was one day in particular when I was feeling crappy and I looked up and saw the rest of the team looking exhausted, limping from various ailments and sweating in the hot sun and I thought to myself "this is ridiculous". We can't ever compensate these people (or ourselves) for the effort, commitment and hours they put into this farm. Doing it for the love and lifestyle of farming can only be stretched so far and we went over that line a while a go. Both Ian and I were hit with a serious case of "that's it, we're out of here at the end of the summer". There were tears. There were conversations. Eyes were rolled. Hands were flung in the air with exasperation. Feet were stamped. And the feeling continues to ebb and flow. In truth, these are not just mid-season concerns, these are the fears I've harboured for about a year now.

There is a constant discourse in the farming community about whether or not small farming is sustainable, and the rhetoric centers around financial concerns; will consumers pay what is actually costs to produce food? I believe that there is no clear cut answer to that, it is totally dependent on the model you use. There are, for example, small market gardeners turning over $250,000 annually on less than 2 acres using SPIN farming methods. There are also people leasing land for $1 a year and still not able to make it work. We're somewhere in the middle of that. We purchased our land, sunk a lot of time and money into building and then unexpectedly had to pay $60,000+ on water and well drilling. We'll never recoup that investment and we're not paying ourselves per se, but that doesn't mean that farm is not sustainable or won't be in the future. It is bringing in some money this year. While I haven't drawn a salary so far, I haven't paid for food in three year and we've almost doubled the equity in our property in three years. That's a pretty decent return. But I still struggle to believe that we can really bring in the true cost of food. I feel there's definitely a fine balance between farm location, farm size and output that needs to be established for any new farmer seeking a sustainable farm business model.

Laura and Carina and a few of BC's politicians hanging out at White Rock Farmers Market

So what does all that mean to us at Laurica Farm? Is our farming model sustainable for the people doing it? Could we go on doing exactly what we are doing and spreading ourselves this thin? Yes, of course we could. We have stared in the face of bigger challenges after all. But should we? The answer to that is easy: no, it makes no sense from a business or personal standpoint. And to be honest, it's not the farming that's the primary cause of us feeling burnt out as much as the bureaucracies of running a farm business. The ridiculous processes and restrictions are the things that make small farming in this area unsustainable, not the farming itself. There seems to be constant road barriers put in place for small farmers and it's that I can no longer be bothered with. I'm battle weary and I'm taking risks. It's like self harm, I wonder if I'm looking to get intro trouble as an excuse to walk away.

This week we are meeting with a business consultant to help us tease out the answers. We need to undertake some sort of feasibility study about our farming activities. Currently we are doing two markets, restaurant supply, CSA boxes and delivery service, events almost every week, tours, open days, cooperatives with other farmers and kids farm camps - all with just two full time staff. Next year we will have to streamline or rethink the business model in some way. This is not a defeatist statement, I feel incredibly lucky that in three years of operation, we are in a position where we can stop, reflect and revise. It's because we've worked so damn hard that we are able to be more selective in our planning.

It's not all hard work...the farm camps provide some child labour

In truth, we have no idea what that looks like yet. We've toyed with several ideas and studied other people's models but we're too entrenched in it all to be objective, which is why we need a new pair of eyes looking at this challenge. So you had better stay tuned, because we survived the hard times and now we're evolving again!

So You Think You Can Farm?

In the last year or so, I've been approached by numerous people looking for advice about becoming farmers. My first thought is always "why are they asking me, don't they know I'm winging it"? But then I realize that although I don't have decades of farming experience under my belt, I do have transitional expertise. It is flattering to be asked but it can be, at times, frustrating, and sometimes quite insulting when you're approached by people who clearly have no concept of what this lifestyle demands.

Out of the many people seeking advice, I've only believed two of them would or could make the transition into farm life. One of them has done so with success and has our continued support. The other couple have demonstrated all the right attributes, a plan, determination, the passion for it & (I say this with the utmost respect) the somewhat naive belief that farm life is better.

So what made these two examples stand out to me the first time I met them? I've taken some time to think about this and have put together etiquette guide for approaching a farmer for advice and a couple of points on how to prepare yourself for farming:

Value our time. Farmers sacrifice many things to be farmers. Money, friends, personal hygiene, notions of self care, but most of all, spare time. So please, do not be frivolous with our time. If you say you are coming to the farm, then show up and be ready to listen. You might think the nature of our work offers some flexibility, and to some extent it does, but there is never enough hours in the day! The time we give to you for tours and answering questions could be spent with our families. We have so little time, be gracious with it.

Be prepared. We are not your personal Google. I love to help and advise new or wannabe farmers but we made it predominantly on our own. I have great neighbours I can go to if I'm stuck, but generally I put the effort in to educate myself every single day. What impressed me about the last couple who came to seek advice was their focus & preparedness. They came knowing what challenges they would face and they had specific questions. They had done their own research and came to us for practical guidance on applying their theories. They did not come and exhaust my time with questions that a quick internet search could have answered.

Leave your excuses at home. I'm sorry but you cannot come to me and tell me that the barriers to your idyllic farming utopia are money and land. If you say those things to me, I instantly know that the barrier to you farming is attitudinal. Now, I am fortunate enough to have found a brilliant piece of land for a farm and we put everything on the line to get it, and we continue to risk everything to keep hold of it. However, if you don't have the money to buy land, start by finding out about local land lease programs. There are lots around. Where I live, for example, Young Agrarians links land owners with potential farmers. The farmers gets to lease the land for little or no cost and the owners gets farm status and therefore, reduced property taxes. If you don't have a program in your area, there are people making private arrangements all the time. We ourselves are in discussions to lease a little more land for expansion. So take to the streets, starting looking, there are opportunities out there. I appreciate that they are not available to everyone in every area but if you are committed to the idea, you will make the sacrifice needed. If you are not willing too, then you don't have the right approach for farming.

And money. In case you haven't noticed from my last ten whiny-assed blog posts, we have none. Almost every penny we had went into the land and anything that was left was depleted by the ongoing issues with water. But we have still built an operational farm and we are not even three years in. Again, you have to pound the pavement and go and find resources. It's doable. 70% of our farm is built from reclaimed materials. If you don't have the money, you have to be willing to put in the time. You must be prepared do the work.

Be ready to sacrifice. I've already touched on some of the sacrifice required, but you cannot really anticipate or understand the level of sacrifice until it's too late and you are already immersed in farming. But know this; farming is all consuming. You cannot dabble in it, you cannot work part time, and you cannot do it for just part of the year, for goodness sake you'll be lucky to get a day off ever again if you choose to keep livestock.

Get ready to work. You literally have to stop making life plans. The work is hard and constant. Your body will be constantly covered in scrapes, cuts and bruises. If you are inclined to wear skirts occasionally, you can forget about that because you will probably have a permanent indent in your shins from your Muck boots. I thought I knew hard work, but I didn't. Especially in the first few years of farming you can expect to have never worked so hard for so little in any job you had before.

If any of that puts you off, then turn back now. Because once you dip your toe into the pool of farm life, you're hooked. You will forget how to function in regular society. I fear that should I ever have to return to normality, I will starve to death because I would not want to eat food that I haven't produced myself.

Once you find yourself naming a chicken, chortling at a particular pigs personality quirks or talking to a baby lamb like you would talk to your own baby, it's too late for you. When you find that eating out is ruined for you because the best tasting food grows 10 yards from your back door, then you know you're in for the long haul. When you find more beauty & pride in a basket of fresh vegetables than in designer clothes and you choose to spend your Saturday nights watching pigs play in a puddle rather than drinking and dancing, then farming already pumps through you veins and the addiction owns you.

So choose this path carefully and thoughtfully. Because once you give yourself to the lifestyle, you will not ever be able to detox.