my own two hands

This Friday afternoon was spa time at the Farm. A few weeks ago while staffing a table promoting the CSA at the local YMCA (which mostly meant chatting up the assembled chiropractors), Kat won a free office spa treatment for eight, and this afternoon the lady from BeautiControl came out so we could redeem our prize. Shortly before it was my turn to indulge in the Sugar Cookie Hand Exfoliator, I snuck a glance at my hands - mud under every ragged fingernail, calluses on the insides of my index fingers from rubber-banding kale, chard, spinach and carrots, dirt settled into the dry skin of my knuckles, and plenty of nicks and cuts of unknown origins.

I should note that this sad state of affairs is not a foregone conclusion. Once upon a time I wore gloves while I harvested (until I realized how much it slowed me down), and some of the other interns do a much better job of taking care of their hands. But for me, knowing that my hands will be involved in this...

(Check out more of Josh Reason's pictures from the farm) at least three times a week makes me reluctant to put much energy into cleaning them up.

Besides, I have a certain sense of pride in being marked by what I do. When people stop by our farmers' market booth to comment on how beautiful the veggies are (and hopefully buy a few), we often tell them we picked them ourselves the day before. Occasionally the customer will want to see our hands as proof, and mine usually do the trick.

And for me, admiring the cuts and calluses is a daily reminder of the joy of being able to do things myself, to learn with my hands in the earth and invite others to do the same.

Eco-farm conference, thoughts on our CSA ministry, and seal puppies.

An overdue post that I started but never posted last week...

January 20th through 23rd found Erynn, Sarah and I braving a long and rainy drive up to Monterey to participate in the 30th annual Eco-Farm Conference. Where to begin? Well, the opening plenary began with Wes Jackson (from the Land Institute) and Frances Moore Lappé (author of "Diet for a Small Planet," among others). Let's just say they set the precedent for standing ovations.

I'll let Sarah and Erynn talk more about the impact the conference had on them. Personally, it opened my mind to the variety of approaches that farmers and others take when it comes to the vague word "sustainability." Everyone from your nose-pierced, shaggy and/or dread-locked biodynamic farmers to the large-scale organic, wrangler-wearing, big-truck-driving farmers were there, mingling, exchanging stories, and dancing together during the final night's Louisiana funk band dance. It was a lot of fun.

One of the sessions on CSAs and their alternative role in the economy stuck with me in particular. The speaker outlined the history of Community Supported Agriculture, and how it goes against the consumerist grain. The CSA model offers an alternative to the typical commodity-based market economy. I got to thinking about this in relation to our Abundant Table Farm Project (ATFP) ministry.

How is our CSA program connected to the Abundant Table ministry? How does the worship service, Eucharist and potluck we host every Sunday night extend into the week and define our work? When our subscribers sign up for our CSA program, they are not simply buying a weekly box of seasonal vegetables and their unit-by-unit worth. No, their financial support symbolizes a deeper commitment for which the box could be considered an acknowledgment, a return of gratitude in the form of our land's bounty. They are "buying into" something beyond the worth of the veggies - and this something is our soil quality (good soil is everything in agriculture, I'm discovering), our care over a piece of land for future generations while cherishing the family history of generations past, the knowledge that those who tend the land are well cared for, housed, fed, insured, etc., and of course a closer relationship with the substance upon which we are all dependent, food, and the people who grow it.

Our CSA is part of our ministry, then, for it enables people in some small (but small is large) way, to step outside the role that society has ready-made for them as a consumer expecting direct, personal returns. Just as our boxes are not personalized based on individual preference but rather offer the same assortment to all, our ministry gently, even sub-consciously informs people that it's not "all about me." Our CSA ministry offers freedom from "cheap" materialism and an opportunity to participate in a richer materialism, in a different sense of the word if you will, that goes beyond individual gains to include things like the material of our earth, its friendliness toward worms and birds, and yet unborn material seven generations from now.

We can be a part of something larger than ourselves, contributing to the soil's fertility and to supporting a community. I believe that these things essentially teach us what it means to be more fully human, which is, as our priest Julie likes to say, the mission of Christ.


Now, to the reason I started to write this post. Pictures from our Eco-farm journeys!:

Erynn, me, Sarah. Stopping to breathtake off Hwy 1

...then we decided to stay for sunset yoga with some new friends.

And I just can't leave this out - SEAL PUPPIES!

relationships with our neighbors

One of the necessary and wonderful goals of this project is laying down a foundation of trust with our local community. Here are some connections we've fostered!
Erynn and I sharing stories with the Conejo Valley Unitarian Universalist Fellowship (http://cvuuf.org/) this past week.
Nopalito's Native Plant Nursery (http://www.nopalitonursery.com/) coming to share their own story at the farm with our subscribers and friends on Saturday.

This is what building community through the farm looks like

Oh man. It has been brought to my attention that I am easily excitable. This past week people described me as, "peppy," and "perky." Words which don't conjure up the most pleasant images in my mind. Someone else said energetic, and I guess I will stick with that.

Well, people- I am excited right now. Freaking out on the inside about to explode with excitement excited. So, read the following. I dare you to try to keep the pep out of your step after reading.

Exciting thing#1- Join the Farm/The Abundant Table Farm Project is linking up with Cal State Channel Islands (CSUCI-about five miles down the road) as a community partner for the Sociology Deptartment's Capstone Project. Sociology students work with community organizations design and implement surveys to help organizations better provide community services. ATFP came up with project ideas and Kat and I presented them to the capstone students. Our Capstone collaboration ideas focus on lower-income local produce accessibility and local institutional local produce accessibility (rad, right?!). We will work with students to design surveys that will help us better understand factors in low-income and institutional food consumption, so we can more effective reach those communities with our produce.

Exciting thing #2- So after I gave the presentation (alongside my community heroes Cathy Brudnicki of Ventura County Homeless & Housing Coalition, Kathryn Benner of Cabrillo Economic Development Corporation-affordable housing and Kathryn is also our CSA subscriber, Todd from Project Understanding, Sandy Nirenberg from Camarillo Hospice, Rafaela Frausto from Neighborhoods for Learning, and Cameron from Coastal Alliance United for a Sustainable Economy) Cameron from CAUSE approached me about a future survey CAUSE is planning to assess food access/security in Santa Paula and South Oxnard. He is experienced and knowledgeable in designing surveys and would like to help us with our capstone to make sure our surveys are relevant and appropriate to gather the kind of data our organizations can use to work together to improve healthy food access in Ventura County! CAUSE can then use some of our survey questions in their survey! Again- this is rad. This is the type of cross-organizational community building that can really affect local change. I'm visualizing Aspen grove imagery. When organizations collaborate, or build solid connected root systems, the community organism as a whole can thrive. We are building solid foundational systems to support big efforts that ultimately result in a healthier community.

Exciting thing #3- Rafeala Frausto of Neighborhoods for Learning works with parents, schools, early childhood educators, and service providers to offer a web of support for young children and families designed by and for each community. She wants ATFP to come out to their next meeting to connect NFL families with our CSA! Young families in the county eating our local, organic vegetables!

Exciting thing #4- Sandy Niremberg of Camarillo Hospice has been a wonderful resource in connecting Join the Farm! with the Camarillo Farmer's Market. Today, she also gave me a great connection with food service at CSUCI. Join the Farm! produce in CSUCI's cafeterias!

I know all of these relationships and opportunities will take time to cultivate and grow. It's like seeing a yellow tomato blossom or bean blossom. You know it is going to grow into something good. Yes, that is exciting.

don't count your chickens

Apparently hatching is only the beginning of the hazards in a chicken's life. There are diseases, hawks, farm dogs, small children, and even other chickens (think origin of the term "pecking order") to worry about.

On Monday I noticed that one of my hens wasn't doing well. When she does make it to her feet, she sort of staggers in whatever direction she wants to go and then flops down. She’s still eating and drinking, but seems pretty uncomfortable.

As Erynn noted, a 100% survival rate for nine chickens is probably a bit unrealistic. One of the other hens already owes her life to a more or less miraculous recovery. Before Ted had fully reinforced the chicken run to keep Oliver (farm dog) out and the hens in, I had a heavy set of wooden slats propped against the gate to the run (most frequent site of escapes leading to traumatic Oliver-chicken encounters). One day as I was trying to block their most recent escape route and the chickens were gathered around trying to…well…escape, I accidentally knocked the slats over, trapping one poor hen underneath.

It was awful. I pulled the slats up and she staggered, squawking into the coop where she sat awkwardly, panting and blinking very fast. Kat helpfully came in from the field to help me examine the chicken (and not so helpfully suggested that the vegetable pot pie she was planning for that evening’s dinner could easily become a chicken pie). I spent the morning bunching kale, renewing my commitment to vegetarianism by repenting of my recent fish consumption, and hoping that the hen would be dead before Kat had to kill her.

But when we went in to check on her before lunch, she was up and walking around. Within a day or two, Squashed Chicken was indistinguishable from the other eight.

I’m guessing I/we won’t get that lucky twice. Four days later I’m still trying to figure out the merciful thing to do.

here it comes

Lately Sundays have turned out to be my only almost full day off. I sleep in a little (although honestly usually can't make it much past 8:00am) and take some time to read or make phone calls or go for a long run. In the afternoons I often end up at the beach or on a hike with the other interns.

Not so tomorrow. Our Monday harvest for Tuesday CSA box delivery has been moved up 24 hours because the rain is coming. Four storms are converging to dump inches and inches on southern California starting on Sunday evening at the rate of up to an inch an hour.

While this volume of precipitation is very unusual, it's made me notice how we talk about rain around here. The (admittedly only two or three) times it's rained since I arrived in August, the rain has been more of a nuisance than anything else. It makes harvesting cold and uncomfortable (even the joys of jumping in puddles don't quite make up for it) and the moisture can make our crops more susceptible to problems that thrive on dampness like molds and mildews.

After growing up in a place where rain meant the difference between health and starvation for many people, it's strange to talk about it as an inconvenience. Drip irrigation (plastic tape running down the middle of the rows with small holes) means our crops need not depend on the weather for water. Though the rain does replenish the local groundwater supply that we use to irrigate, we by no means depend on the timing of any set of showers. So here we are - farmers - stocking up on ponchos and rain boots, and complaining about the rain.

threshing

"Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away".