Tiny Farm Blog Organic micro-farming with two acres and some tools ~ a daily photo journal...

This year for Earth Day (a Day I don’t usually…observe), I gave a talk on small-scale organic farming for an audience of three in the airy designer meeting room in the Upstairs at Loblaws zone. Here’s the view from…upstairs (this is the same super-sized supermarket mentioned from another recent trip to town). It was fun! To be more accurate, though, this wasn’t actually an Earth Day event, it just happened to fall on it, as part of an on-going series of talks and cooking classes and stuff that happen all the time, an effort of the giant Loblaws chain to be more community-oriented, engaging, one-stop. A veggie customer at the farmers’ market had suggested me for one of the slots way back last September or so, they called me up, I said OK, and a few months later… Yesterday, the coordinator called to say there were only six sign-ups (it’s free registration), so I could cancel if I wanted. Apparently, at least at this location, attendance can be low, with as little as one or two sign-ups for some, and 15 is a crowd. Since I had no expectations in the first place, I made my I-don’t-drive transportation arrangements and there I was. It was actually really interesting, talking to people who weren’t as predisposed to organic food and…greenness as most everyone who tends to shop at the stand at the farmers’ market or sign-up for CSA. I’d decided no presentation, just questions. It only took a minute to get things rolling: I asked everyone (all three), why they’d come and what they were expecting (”to learn more about organic food…”) and took it from there. It was a non-stop extended conversation, lasted 90 minutes without a pause or signs that any of us had had enough, until I took a natural exit point and casually wrapped it up. It was kind of a live, concentrated version of this blog: explaining what I do, giving what larger contextual background on agriculture I have—all directed by the flow of questions. The cool part was seeing another first-hand example of how people don’t seem so much PROGRAMMED to be driven consumers, as not given any CONVENIENT alternatives, like cheerful, enthusiastic, interesting-sounding, first-hand info, delivered to them live and direct (I had briefly considered bringing in a bag of partially composted cow manure to provide a bit of…flavor)! At one point, talking about how tiny farming and local food seem quite workable, and also ENJOYABLE for everyone involved, all people have to do is try, I said it’s like the audience in a movie theater: everybody watches the screen, it’s the easiest thing to turn around and look elsewhere, but even when the movie’s terrible, no-one bothers to look away because there’s usually nothing better to see… Does that mean that good tiny farming is at least one part entertainment?! I guess so… ;)

Someone in the village burning junk in their backyard set off a grass fire that spread across a field and threatened to burn down the barn and house across the road. I missed the flames, and took a look as the firefighters were mopping up. I’m somewhat aware that, lately, a good part of the planet is on fire at any given moment, but this was the first time I’ve seen any sort of fire damage first-hand, outside of buildings and stuff in cities. What struck me was the unexpected, forbidding BLACKNESS of the charred ground, looking like it could spread and swallow up…everything (I’m sure spreading flames are a lot scarier)… Interesting. With the dry weather, there’s a burn ban on in the region (I haven’t yet heard the full story on the unfortunate firestarter…he or she must be fined into oblivion…). On this side of the road, the predecessor to the big barn I’m in right now was accidentally burned down in 1949, and these days, we do have a burn barrel, but I don’t think much about fire day to day: only burn on wet, non-windy days, always put the grate on the barrel, don’t take any sort of fire or drive gas vehicles (like the riding mower) into the barn (apparently, gas engines can spark, hay and straw dust is extremely flammable, diesel’s OK)… That’s about it. Still, another thing to keep an eye on. On the farm, it’ll probably take more than a handy fire extinguisher if things get burning… More pics

Took a trip to town today. During the winter, I get in once every 3-4 weeks, so it’s a bit of a novelty. This time in, we checked out an agricultural show, 28th year, filling the new fairground’s 45,000 sq ft of indoor exhibition space. It was quite busy, geared to the bigger conventional farmer, with aisles and aisles of heavy equipment, commercial seed, bank financing,… Outside, some even bigger machinery, like the combine harvester in the pic—it’s set up for soy—that could run over my entire garden in about 10 minutes (although the wraparound view from that air conditioned cab looks mighty inviting for a hot summer’s day in the field!). Inside, it’s mostly men in and around their 60s, with some wives scattered in. These guys were here with their fathers three decades ago, discussing new gear as family farms passed from fathers to sons. Now, the sons are the old farmers, and the next generation is nowhere in sight. Quite odd… Oh well, on to the super-sized supermarket, a Loblaws’ Wal-Mart killer, a huge deal with a produce court half the size of my market garden (not literally, but it’s pretty big), bakery, meat and fish counters, endless aisles, automated mini-bank, wine shop, tobacconist, full pharmacy, a whole section of clothing and housewares, and acres of convenient parking outside. It’s the old General Store, scaled up! I seldom do the grocery shopping for the farm, so when I do hit a supermarket, I head straight for the veggies first (I still kinda laugh at myself doing a “professional” veggie appraisal, this is the LAST situation I would’ve imagined myself in not too long ago). I bought some groceries: a bit of “fresh meat”, “fresh-baked bread”, a tub of mixed baby salad greens (and mine so soon to come!)… Only $200! Then, a quick fast food stop at A&W, not a guilty pleasure, or even a pleasure, just an old habit, a town routine… And there it was, a trip through the OTHER local food chain, 12 miles (19km) and a whole world away from the tiny farm. It’s a little surreal. Back to the seedlings… ;)

Most of my last four years as a veggie grower have been spent on the farm, like, practically every day (this seems perfectly natural to me, although some wonder how I handle it—they just don’t know how absorbing it is and how much there is to do in and around a big garden!!). This year, with more people in the field, I’ve gotten out a bit. Today, as an extended field break, Conall and I headed a few miles down the road to visit a brand new tiny farming operation, Richard’s home veggie plot. Richard is a doctor taking what I’ve gathered is a fairly new view of nutrition. Over the last two years, he’s dropped by the stand at the farmers’ market to buy nice quantities of veggies (he juices) and we’ve had long chats every week, about growing stuff, food and health, and lots of farther ranging topics. This year, he started a veggie garden on his 100 acres of farmland and forest. It was all hand work and learning as you go. I felt connected from all the conversation, so it only made sense to check it out! The garden was started a little late in the season—Richard sees it as a trial run!—still, lots of tomatoes, summer squash, beets, carrots, potatoes, more. Besides my own TF efforts, this is the first time I’ve seen and heard about and commented on a substantial veggie garden start-up… Next year, he plans to more than double the area to over a quarter acre and go for a full-on effort to supply his own garden veggies. The people part of small farming continues to reveal itself to me!! Fun!