Mood Swings

We are in the throes of our first summer back after our enforced hiatus. We're finally back. And boy, are we ever back with a bang!

Around me, I'm watching friends and fellow farming folk struggle. There seems to have been a wave of people announce they are reducing their farming commitments. Why? Well I'm not sure what the root cause is, probably because this is hard and unforgiving work and the kind of personalities that face up to the challenge suck at self care.

But I'm watching this feeling removed. Not unsympathetic. It's a kind of "oh yeah, we went through that too" reflection and empathy, but actually we're doing pretty great this season and I'm loving this ridiculously crazy summer. I'm relishing seeing the farm alive with people again. The kids camps, the workshops and the amazing, colourful events are lighting up my soul again. Most of all, seeing people's reactions to the vibrancy of the food we produce is nourishing me to my core. I feel like I'm coming out of a fog and there are the first tingles of joy again.

BUT (there's always a but), we are not out of danger yet. The future of the farm is still in jeopardy and this season will either set us up for a great future or it will be our swan song.

Although my physical and mental health is beginning to repair for the first time since the fire in 2016, Ian is struggling to sustain the immense energy it takes to keep this show on the road. Financially the fallout from the fire remains devastating and the onus to fight the corporations responsible for our downfall  and chase the legal team tasked with representing our interests has been with him. It's so frustrating to feel like the ones wronged but have to continually relive the trauma and chase and fight and bulldoze our way to closure. So many times over a 3 year period, we have been led to believe that closure is coming only to have some corporation or anonymous lawyer somewhere think up another needless "requirement" with the true purpose being to waste time. Time that means nothing to them but has meant a rollercoaster of emotion and uncertainty to us. I've lost count of how many times we have said "we're done" only to claw our way to some kind of self-made reprieve. And it's only Ian's tenacity and determination that has kept us at the farm this long....that kind of living is detrimental to a person's wellbeing.

So the current situation is this. We have 3 mortgages. We need to earn $14,000 a month just to get by and that sure as heck ain't farmers income! We've been working, grafting and hustling to make it. We believed it would not have gone on this long but we cannot sustain it much longer. We think there will be some resolution by the end of September. But we've heard that before. Deadlines are ten a penny and only seem to matter to us, not the corporate world, not the lawyers, just the little guy who has their whole life invested in a resolution.

October will be our D-day. Either this whole fiasco will be resolved or we're out. And we will walk away from our home and livelihood with very little to show for it...financially anyway...we'll have a plethora of good dinner-party stories.

Come October, whatever happens, wherever the dice fall, the one takeaway for me will be the lack of humanity in our world. The story of how corporate greed robbed us of a brighter belief in the world and our farm.

Dear Mr Judgeypants, I am an attention seeker, it's my responsibility!

Dear Mr Judgeypants,

This is to the men who left negative comments on our World Naked Gardening Day photos.

You are right. I am an attention seeker. But here is why that is not a negative thing, or a representation of the state of humanity. :) It's my responsibility as a woman and a farmer.

I don't know where, when or why World Naked Gardening Day became a thing. When I first heard about it in 2016, I initially decided we would do it as a promotional aid, nothing more. We are a small-scale, family run farm and we were heading into a busy season. I figured it might get us a few Facebook page likes and then that translates into more exposure for us to use as a selling aid. I admit it, that was shallow. But since then, we have made a habit of publishing our naked photos and the drivers behind it have grown...as have I. I have learned a lot.

Bringing new traffic to our page is still an incentive, but for different reasons. For sure this stunt increases our social media following every year. I know that is not a way to measure anything that really matters in life, but those people who show up on our social media for naked photos then stay for the conversation, education and engagement. We talk a lot about important issues for farming and the planet. On our pages, you'll find things like regenerative agriculture articles, myth-busting about farming, videos on how to become a better consumer, info on soil and water conservation, ethical animal raising and so on. So, you see, it's not just about getting people to look at me, it's about getting people to look at the issues that face all of us as farmers, members of the agricultural community, consumers and humans living on a dying planet. It's about advocacy and ease. The people who see us in our most vulnerable state, know that our community is a safe space to ask any question. No middle-aged, white, wobbly woman who has been naked on the internet is going to berate anyone for asking a silly question!

But that's not the prevalent issue anymore. I've learned a lot about women, and our place in society.

Since starting this in 2016, I've had trauma in my life. That hasn't just manifested in my emotional well-being, but also in my physical self. Each year I get fatter as the medication I take to help me deal with the trauma makes my appetite hard to manage and the depression I dealt with for 2 years made me pretty inactive. I'm not telling you this so you'll sympathize with me, I'm telling you this in the hope that you will try to empathize with all women. Lots of the comments left on our photos include things like "they are so brave" and "wow, what confident ladies". This makes my heart hurt for womankind. No one would think or write this if we were size 2, 23-year-old beauties in a glossy magazine and they definitely wouldn't feel the need to refer to a man in the buff of any age or size as "brave". What women are saying is that we don't conform to the societal norms of beauty and so we must be congratulated for our "bravery" for stepping out as our true selves in a judgmental world. But we are the norm. We do represent what happens to women's bodies in realty. I really want to see a year of naked gardening photos in the future when no one thinks to use the word brave for me either. That will be a measure of equality and body positivity and a healthy society, don't you think?

I overheard a group of teenage girls talking about their fear of beachwear recently. These girls will never be as taught, wobble-free and beautiful as they were at that time when they were talking about a fear of their bodies been seen. For goodness sake, if that doesn't promote the need for women of all ages and sizes to take ownership of their bodies and celebrate the beauty within our too big or too small bottoms, our saggy boobs or our small boobs, our fat thighs or our thigh gaps, our sprouting body hair, our knobbly knees or our bunion-ridden feet, then I don't know what it will take. We don't need every woman to get naked, but we do need some women to show us that we can - and we definitely need every man, woman and child to stop negatively judging.

It's not easy to just become confident and comfortable in our bodies when we are constantly judged against unachievable aspirations of beauty and worthiness. So good on the "attention seekers". Those women that stood with me all represent the message...."we are too old and too good for this shit".

Yours,

Cathy.

P.S. Who wants to organize a naked gardening parade just to piss Mr Judgeypants off?

The Drama Farmers

It's been a year since the last time I took the time to sit and write a blog post. So many reasons for that. First of all, the last update informed you we were done here. We couldn't recover from the fire and a plethora of other dramas that were unraveling around us. At the time of writing that, there were asteroid-sized challenges flying at us from every direction, they took our legs out from beneath us and left us lying winded on the metaphorical cold, hard ground. While closing felt like our only feasible option at the time, the decision broke us. We continued to fight our own battles, sometimes completely exposed in the eye of the media, as well as some very private struggles with mental health. But we could not reconcile closing the farm.

A year later and hardly any of those issues have been completely resolved, but we are stronger. We spent most of 2018 taking back control of our situation. So, while we still await some resolution and closure of the ongoing issues, we are at least back in control of our financial and emotional well-being in the meantime. Despite, or should I say IN SPITE of the trauma and the failures of others, we are stronger, more stable and able to say the farm will re-open this year.

I know what you're thinking.....we're on, we're off, we're back, we're done....you never know what drama is coming next from this 5 acre corner of Langley that most people love to visit, but has been the stage of much misery for us. What can I say? Thank you springs to mind. Thank you for sticking with us. Thank you for coming back when we tentatively reopened the farm store at the end of last year. Thank you for buying our entire annual stock of beef within 20 minutes of it arriving back at the farm. Thank you for signing petitions, leaving online reviews, referring your friends to us, but most of all, encouraging us. It is the people that surround us and the farm, that circled the wagons, and that keep us going.

We have moved into our new hemp house now and many of you have visited or seen the house now. It's a beautiful space to live in and having a stable base for the first time in the two years since the fire has definitely contributed to stabilizing us. We've been able to make space in our own minds to think about re-opening the farm and what that model should look like. We have to be mindful of the problems we have had with our farming model in the past. We've analyzed the key messages and think we have found a balance, both for ourselves and to improve our regenerative farming approach.

So here's the plan. Baby steps! 2019 will see us both working away from the farm to help with some financial stability and easing back into our farming story. We will drop all the restaurant supply, CSA programs and farmers markets that we were doing before. The farm will be open on Saturdays from May through to October and employ just Ian and I. There will be kids camps, farm tours, meat and (limited) produce sales, workshops and events, as well as a new botanical garden and tannery with help from Mara of Crow's Nest Wildcraft. We have also been taking some bookings for private functions. Basically, we are eliminating anything that takes us away from the farm and focusing on the farm becoming the destination again.

We feel excited. It's the first time in a long time we find ourselves looking forward to something farm related. Let's keep our fingers crossed and hope for at least one drama-free season!

We'll see you in May.

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.

We didn't come this far just to come this far

The last year, life has thrown us in a lake and held our heads under water, letting us up occasionally for a quick gasp of air before shoving us down again. With the last breath we decided to metaphorically swim for another shore. It's time to set some goals and some boundaries. Enough with the ifs, buts, maybes, what ifs and most of all, the complaining.

With regard to last years fire, we are finally making in-roads. We fought tooth and nail almost daily to get our hempcrete house design approved and last week, we received our permits and broke ground. Not only is it exciting in itself to start building a house but we're amazed at the interest in the build and hempcrete as a material. Somehow we find people joining us and supporting us as we push forward with the house. However, it's not all sunshine and rainbows. We thought we had made some victories with our insurance company, but they are causing some issues again. There's a point where you have to throw caution to the wind and just start building. We have missed an entire farming season this year, we CANNOT afford to miss next year because we are still waiting to build. So it's on, we are starting a build that we now don't know will be fully covered by the insurance money. We're nothing if not dramatic! And it's just us. You know when you hear people say "oh, I'm building a house" when what they mean is "I'm sitting in my kitchen giving instructions to a contractor"? Yeah, well, that's not our reality. It's me and Ian sweating at the bottom of the foundations we dug in the blazing sun.  And of course, Ian's type-A syndrome has kicked in with him declaring that "there is not another person on the planet who is accurate enough to frame his house". Sweeping generalizations and insults to the global carpentry industry aside, with or without a decent insurance payout, there won't be enough money to pay other people to build it.

The farm without farming has been has been like a party without wine this summer! We've kept the animals going and another farmer has used our land for a few crops. But most of the growing soils that we worked so hard to build and nourish, lie empty or covered in weeds. We had a couple of events just to keep breathing life back into the place but Laurica Farm has been a quiet shell of it's former self. No crowds, no new growth and no farmer burn out, tantrums or break downs! It's almost become cliché to say it's been a time of reflection. Reflection suggests something quite and peaceful but we have a gun to our heads as we choose our pathway. And so it goes on...new plans, new relationships and renewed vigour. 2018 will be our 'do or die' year.

Next February will see us merge with our friends at True Grit Farm. Ashlee founded True Grit this year and mainly grows microgreens for restaurant supply as well as  CSA shares for the local community. Check out this story though, it's almost as daft as ours. Ashlee met Devin at the end of 2016. Devin has been so blown away by farming and inspired by the farming community that he is going to give up his well-paying job to become a farmer. Ha! Where have you heard that before?! Every time I look at him, it is with either pity or amusement, I can't quite figure out which emotion is stronger. But in all seriousness, you can teach anyone to farm, but you can't teach values. Devin is hard working and has innate farming values, he just doesn't know it yet.

So, Ian will be at the farm full-time for the first time since we moved here. He will farm mainly with Ashlee, who will teach us about microgreens and share her areas of expertize. Devin is chatty and confident so he will look after the customers. I will head up the events, which will see you strengthen an existing partnership with The Watershed Arts Café, and the rental of the tree house. And there it is! Not a complex master plan, but a plan nonetheless. A plan to keep going, a plan to address the burn out, a plan to pool our resources and aid the mutual growth of two awesome farms. A plan to make a living and reclaim a lifestyle during 2018 and if not, call it a day. It seems the last year has certainly made us fragile, but not fragile like a flower. Fragile like a bomb.

Turning Tides?

I have started this post so many times and had to abandon it mid-page, and that is a reflection on the rapid changes in our situation and the way we feel from one day to the next. I left the last post amidst a crisis that was starting to look like the end for Laurica Farm. That 'end' has come and gone several more times. We've found ourselves at the absolute edge of what we can control, we have even called the Realtor to list the property more than once, and then something, some little glimmer of hope has emerged on the horizon and we would step back from the precipice, sometimes just for an hour before the next wave came. But we've gingerly been inching back from the edge for about two weeks now so maybe it's time to write some of this down.

There is no need to tell you every detail and change, there have been some hairy times as you can imagine....like when we had $25 in our bank account on Saturday and our mortgage payment was due on Monday. There's been significant changes in attitude, not so much for me, I can have fifteen different life goals in a day, but Ian who is a careful and methodical thinker commented when he was finishing siding on the barn that he was "getting the place ready to sell" -  believe me, that's a big deal for him to say something like that. But in brief it's been a long interaction with banks and insurance companies, building departments and engineers. And now, largely thanks to Ian's tenacity and patience, we are in a much stronger, and more positive position.

The practical side looks like this; we have negotiated a much better settlement with our insurers. As well as Ian's efforts, Bethany and her team, the insurance representatives at local level have been in our corner the entire time. We are extremely grateful to them, without them I suspect we would have not been heard by the decision-makers. We can now afford to build a new house which was not the case before. And thanks to Ian McClean, our brilliant architect, we have an exciting design. We've had the opportunity to practice with some of the materials we want to use in the house as we've refurbished the barn in to a funky new event venue and built the living space in the tree house.

But with something new comes new challenges, and of course we are not choosing the easy route with the house. We've spent the last four years talking to anyone who visits the farm about sustainability. We've talked the talk and now we have to step up to the plate and walk the walk. Even putting aside our own thoughts and feelings on what we want our house to be, how can we look you, the thousands of people who have toured our farm, in the eye and build a house that is anything other than THE MOST sustainable house? We can't. And we won't. So, after copious research we are trying to build a hempcrete house (please take two minutes to watch this short clip on hempcrete). Again, I'll try and surmise the challenges. Although hempcrete is widely used in Europe and Australia for both residential and commercial developments, it's not an approved material in Canada. There is a mass of data on the material but we need an envelope consultant to sign off on it. So far, two envelope consultants have sat on it for four weeks and then advised us that it's not an approved material in Canada.....very frustrating as that is the basis of us employing them! Anyway, we think we have found someone progressive who is willing, and dare I say excited, to work with us on this project. The hempcrete debacle has been really annoying. It's not like we are trying to build some wacky design with wattle and daub. This is a regular, modern looking home with a tried and tested material that happens to be a really good thing for the environment. It should be exciting for a professional and municipality to be showcasing, especially when the build happens on a very public farm, but I guess that requires stepping out of a box and maybe some independent thought - oh the horror!!!! Anyway, our battle is not over yet but we are starting to dust off our victory flag.

Some rather significant practical victories that have allowed us to take a minute and exhale. Now it's time to think about the emotional side. It's time to recognize that despite my conviction when I recite "I'm fine, we're all fine, everything is fine", it hasn't been fine at all. We are not fine. I don't know whether the fire is the root of my trauma or whether it was the episode that allowed me to stop and fall to my knees for a little while. I suspect it was the straw that broke the donkeys back and on reflection maybe I started last years farming season with burn out.

But it's ok not to be ok after what we've been through over the last 4 years. As we heal our farm and home, we have to take the time to heal ourselves too, and maybe the new build will be cathartic for us. Maybe it'll give us the strength and motivation to breath life back into the farm business next year. Maybe it won't and then we'll know it's time to go and do something else. But whatever happens, we thought we had lost control of that decision, but we've reclaimed our power and whatever happens from here on in is our own fate, the outcome of our own input as opposed to outside influences redirecting our life path. That we can deal with.

Ian and I have felt every EXPOSED!

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.

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.

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

Fighting the Man

This blog is meant to follow our personal transition into farming life, but I feel a rant coming on. As usual I'm not going to apologise for venting in this forum. I feel justified because I'm sharing what I have learned about agriculture and what is happening right now is impacting me, my farm, my family and my livelihood as well as making me mad!

Yesterday was a big day for the farming industry. The effects of 'Big Ag' are a major part of the discourse between small farmers and homesteaders right now. First of all, Avian Flu was discovered at two big factory farms, a turkey barn in Abbotsford and a chicken farm in Chilliwack. On the same day, beef was recalled due to a discovery of E-coli.

I've learned a lot about food security and ethical farming since transitioning to this lifestyle. Some of it I've had to learn as part of making an informed choice about our farming practices, some of it I've discovered completely by accident, some of it I wish I didn't know. So, let me take the time to explain why these issues arising now are a big concern to me, and to you.

I'm going to start with the Avian Flu. 11,000 birds have already been culled at the two affected farms. The outbreak is the fourth in the Fraser Valley since 2005.

In 2009, an outbreak of avian flu in the same region led to the quarantine of several farms. In 2004, an H7-type flu transformed into a highly contagious strain. Farm after farm was quarantined until finally about 15 million birds — almost the entire valley poultry population — were destroyed. 

Wait, what? How come so many birds culled? Our friend Leona of My Healthy Green Family wrote this yesterday:

"Everyone with poultry, even the smallest farms like mine, had to allow for the authorities to come on their property and let them gas all the healthy birds as a precautionary measure. Pets, or not. I remember hearing of a little old lady who cried when they killed her pet peacock. Why? Because these massive egg factories where chickens live in cages and are debeaked so they don't peck each other to death, are a perfect breeding place for a flu. Now, I am totally blowing this out of proportion since it is only 2 farms at this point and no one is saying this will have to be done again. But I am worried.... and disgusted."

Not only are birds culled, but you are not allowed to keep hatching eggs, not even from healthy birds. So farmers cannot even replace lost birds. It takes an incredibly long time for the population to recover.

Let's just think about the emotional impact. Imagine you have to tell my 7 year old daughter, Jessica, that all her chickens and ducks have to be killed because someone else's birds got sick. I may be casting aspersions here but I doubt the owners of those big factory barns will be shedding tears like the children of small farmers....unless it's over their profits. And let's think about economics for a moment. It's not the big factory farms with their $2 a dozen eggs, their millions of anti-biotic fuelled birds, their GMO & soy laden feed, and their government subsidies that will be hurting. It's the people like me. The average cost of a young laying hen is $20. I have 60. Even if there were hens available after a cull, my budget would not stretch to that.

I, like many small farmers and homesteaders, treat our animals with the utmost respect. Our birds have 'luxury' homes, pasture to free range on, homemade chicken feed, warmth and protection, and here we are potentially bearing the brunt of the people whose values are at the opposite end of the spectrum to ours. Whose benefit is the factory farm for? Not yours, as consumers, not mine as an ethical farmer, not any ones as global citizens on a planet that is being drained of it's resources. Listen to this short clip of from UK Chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall touch on the issues: Objections to Factory Farming 

Moving on to the massive beef recall (yes, another one in Canada).  All meat from a plant is recalled because of practices of mass meat production and distribution. Parts of many cows, not just one cow, are in a single package of ground beef. Cows that aren't even from the same farm, they are from all over the place. The current beef recall due to e-coli is from Walmart. Not local. No one knows where the meat was even raised. This makes controlling disease that comes from factory farms almost impossible without mass culls. If our meat were traceable, disease would have minimal causalities.

I'm continuously thinking about making good food choices, but how can I make a real and tangible difference? There are groups that fight Big Ag & factory farms, and while I support them, I am of the belief that we cannot fight corporate greed and I am saddened that we have to fight our own governments to protect our health and environment. I believe the only way we can effect any positive change is to educate ourselves as consumers and vote with our money. I get that what I've just said may feel like a big challenge. Busy lifestyles often dictate the need for convenience, thus feeding the problem. So, I'm reflecting on the changes I've made as I've transitioned from Suburban Consumer to Sustainable Food Advocate. I've come up with a list of things to do and changes that can be easily made make. I don't expect everyone to live like me, but I think it's reasonable to expect everyone to get informed. Have a look through. Maybe you can just choose one thing to do to make a difference? 

• Get to know your local Farmer. Shake their hand and meet them face to face. If they're wearing any sort of breathing apparatus or HAZMAT clothing, walk away. Generally, small farmers like to be transparent. I love it when consumers take an interest in their food and come and ask me questions and hold me accountable for my claims. On the opposite end of the scale, transparency & accountability are often dirty words in Big Ag. If a farmer won't let you see their produce, you probably don't want to eat it.

"Smaller diversified farms employ more people and use less land and water and produce more foods," says Norberg-Hodge. She explains that localization also shortens the distance between consumers and producers, which helps the environment and also ensures that you do not eat produce that is pretty much dead traveling such insane distances".

• Invest in a CSA box. CSA stands for Community Supported Agriculture. It's good for local farmers, small businesses, the environment and for you. You pay in advance for a box of seasonal produce, each farm is different so look into the terms and choose whichever suits you. You will get better value & fresher produce. Not only that but you have healthy food in your fridge that you have paid for and you have to use. You will learn to cook more recipes from scratch and experience a variety of healthy food. Often, your farmer will be happy to share ideas, recipes and suggestions on using or preserving your vegetables.
• 

• Buy your meat from a local farm. Invest in quarter, half or a whole animal (chicken, beef, pork, lamb, etc). Don't want an entire side of beef to yourself? Share with a neighbour. As well as superior taste, choosing pasture raised meat is the ethical choice.  Trust me, I've seen pigs and chickens from factory farms and it's changed my perception. If I couldn't raise my own animals or buy from a local farmer, I would go vegetarian. Not only that, but many small farmers go to extreme lengths to rescue food that would otherwise be destined for landfill. We spend many hours reclaiming food and sharing it with other family farms. And before you quibble over the price, let me assure you that you will not find quality meat in the grocery store at a comparative price. But by choosing local farms, you'll be choosing:
  

• Create cooperatives. Work with your friends and neighbours to create buying clubs and cooperatives. If you have friends that bake, get together and buy organic flour from a local mill in bulk. You'll all enjoy financial savings. My friend Janessa makes her own bread from a bulk buy scheme. She calculated that a loaf of her bread costs under $5 a loaf: it's 1 1/2 times the size of a store loaf, it's totally organic and loaded with healthy extras (steelcut oats, grains, flax, etc). Or you could create a growing club with some neighbours. Choose one item to grow; Sally could grow lettuce, ask Bob to grown tomatoes, Jill to can get some herbs going and Paul can start on some edible flowers. Share your variety of produce for fresh salad all summer. As people see you doing it, they will want to be part of it. Soon you'll have beans, zucchinis, cucumbers and much more. Take back control of your food and your spending. Here's an article on creating a buying group and some more good advice here on things to start making yourself. Doing this will save you money and strengthen you're community. You'll probably be eating healthier too. If you needed any more convincing, there's strong evidence that gardening makes you happier and combats depression.
• 

• Boycott! Ok, I don't want to sound over dramatic. You don't have to stop buying everything you are used to. Choose one big company that you don't like based on any reason that aligns with your personal values. They may operate unethically, have links to Monsanto, use GMO's.... I started with Nestle many years ago because I was fed up with my hard earned cash funding unethical companies, check out this Wiki page on the original Nestle Boycott. I then moved on to stop buying anything by Kraft, which was the best thing I ever did for our diet. When you shun big companies, you often find better products. For example, no Kraft meant no Philadelphia and now we buy a local cream cheese that is organic and has probiotics. Don't worry about choosing a company, there are many to choose from in this link to get you started!

"Industrial agriculture and our globalized food system is a major contributor to greenhouse gas emissions, up to 50 percent if proper account is taken of emissions from land use change and deforestation, most of which are due to agriculture, and for food-related transport, processing, storage and consumption," writes 

 ISIS (Institute of Science in Society).

Of course, this is only the tip of the iceberg, there are problems on a global scale. Just today I've read an article about the UN calling for an end to industrialized farming. I've attached some links at the bottom for further reading. It's time to take back control! There has to be a food revolution. So step away from your Round-Up ready corn and step onto your local farm....but not until we've got rid of Big Ag's Avian Flu!

http://www.theguardian.com/global-development-professionals-network/2014/dec/02/12-paths-to-strengthening-food-security-and-nutrition-in-an-unstable-world

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vdp6IAedWKo

http://www.wunderground.com/blog/organicfarmingblog/the-advantages-of-polyculture-vs-monoculture

http://www.permaculture.co.uk/videos/can-permaculture-replace-industrial-agricultural-farming-methods

http://www.aabri.com/manuscripts/08086.pdf

http://www.sustainabletable.org/869/impacts-of-industrial-agriculture