We're starting a farm! Or at least we're trying to...
After 4 years of learning and growing Magda and her partner are ready to farm for good. We're talking no-till, organic, soil-focused, community-building, back-to-the-earth goodness. Some real Solarpunk shit.
If you're looking to learn more about farming or just want to see how this goes, join the journey. With in-depth updates as we try to secure land, crop plan and start a farm.
Welcome to Scrap Farm, the newsletter/podcast where I discuss living seasonally, adapting to climate chaos and how to make jam, all in the context of trying to start a farm (possibly in the UK but at this point who knows?).
If you’re new here, hello, hi, welcome. The next few weeks are likely to be less farm-centric and will harken back to my older writings for this newsletter. Writings on ‘weeds’ and foragables, on pagan festivals and the ever-turning wheel of the year. To those returning, also Hi.
When it comes to farm updates, my partner and I are more or less where we were last week. That is, stuck in the tichy indecision, or not even indecision, but in having to keep our options open. I have applied for countless more jobs, and been rejected from quite a few. We have, however, submitted our US business plan to see if we qualify for a USDA loan on a property we toured back in October. Thinking about that land it seems like a lifetime ago. Thinking about the land we toured in the UK also seems very far away. Being in the UK hinges on me getting a well-paid job, and how long we can hold out and wait for that. Being in the US hinges on whether we qualify for a land loan. Lots of hinges. Such a liminal time lol.
Oh also I just listened to the above podcast and for once I felt like the business plan we’d drawn up might be better than we think. Or at least we ahven’t forgotten any of the easily forgotten expenses of running a farm (but I’m sure there will be others).
In Theory
Some actual news is that I passed my UK theory test. At 29 years old! What a marvel. For those of you who wonder how it got this far, I grew up in London and had no need to drive until I started living in the US at 25. I would also like to say that I got my American license in one week in New Orleans. I drove my instructor on her errands, to shop for her daughter’s birthday present and to pick up coffee. My ‘theory’ section was learnt in 8 hours in a room where I was the only person who hadn’t been driving for years already (everyone else had got caught driving without a licence, so the course for them was mandatory). I spent a week dodging drunk tourists, potholes and horse manure. And then suddenly I was allowed to drive.
Even then I hadn’t really needed to drive, I got confident with driving a couple of years ago (my partner is a saint for surviving that long and for trusting me with his manual cars). Compared to the paper multiple-choice questions and 10-minute drive around the block that got me my Louisiana licence the UK system is quite severe. The US is actually one of the only countries where the driving licence isn’t convertible in the UK. I wonder why (it’s actually because regulations are so different state-to-state).
Spotty driving history aside, I was more than apprehensive about the theory test for which I had been cramming via App for about three weeks. Turing out my pockets (and dropping hawthorn seeds on the carpet), panic-clicking on a pile of leaves in the hazard perception section, I was sure I was going to fail. But no. Passed!
I’m now working on getting a couple of lessons to prepare for the practical test. This might not seem like big news but when it comes to insurance, and ease of movement having a UK licence was a bit of a stumbling block for our plans to farm here. It seems hopeful to have passed. It feels like actually moving. In any direction. Quite literally taking the wheel.
Old Frames
Another tiny life update is a superficial one. But in it being so it gave me plenty to muse on, to chew on like gristle. It began because I needed to get new lenses for my glasses.
The last time I got new glasses was seven years ago they were free (I was a student in Scotland). In that moment I saw the world for the first time, I got contact lenses. Up until that point I had been walking around in a stubborn blur. The joy of seeing every leaf, making eye-contact with ease, and communicating so much better has yet to wear off. Saying that I do love my glasses, the frames, not least because they make me look kinda hot.
But that’s not the point of all this. The point is that new lenses in old frames cost more than buying a new set of glasses to reuse my old frames. That the sales assistant was unsurprisingly very pushy. And more annoyingly, the frames I could choose from (but refused to) were visibly lower quality than the ones that had survived 7 years on my face. But unfortunately for Specsavers, I am persistent, some would say contrary.
The interaction, the insistence on the new (worse), and the prohibitive cost of reusing made me pretty fuming. It got me thinking about the Right to Repair in Europe, which of course, Brexit has had a hand in scuppering here in the UK. If it’s a struggle to fix something as small as a pair of glasses think of all the tangled, entrenched systems and thought patterns that are bogging down our food system. Our carceral system.
And yes, it’s glasses, it’s not that deep. But I’m a poet and a drama queen so it is that deep.
Since there is not much to report on our progress farm-wise, I will instead report on how I have been filling my days. Now the jetlag has worn off I am diving headfirst into the joys of this season. I have been overloading on festive podcasts, from quick almanacs, to traditional songs, to deep dives into various aspects of Yule. You’ll find these resources dotted throughout the newsletter.
One of my favourite activities of the past week, between passing my theory test, countless cover letters and Beta-reading a friend’s book, has been making Plum Jam. We just polished off my mum’s Damson Jam. Damsons, a small subspecies of plum, native to Great Britain but found across Europe. They have a bright, somewhat puckering flavour and make a fantastic Jam. When I was growing up, a Damson tree overhung my grandmother’s front garden. Each year she or my aunt would make Jam from its abundance and dole it out to the rest of the family. It’s a flavour so linked to her and her overflowing garden, to her kitchen-table Britishness.
My grandmother’s death towards the end of 2020 spurred me to quit my stable job and pursue farming. She had encouraged me in my love of plants, of food. The loss of her was a catalyst, a flame under the lingering feeling the pandemic had brought on. Four years later, and fresh in the loss of my other grandmother, I’m still sentimental for that stoney fruit.
The conversation my mum and I had about jam-making was spurred on by Filler Zine arriving in the post. The eighth issue (the one I’m published in) focuses on the kitchen. A place I could go on about for hours. My piece wove in my emotional connections to Damsons, to a loss of place, to storing food for the long winter ahead. Titled ‘Preservation’ it aimed to capture pickling, when a moment becomes a memory, when food becomes stored energy.
I would like to avoid turning this into one of those horrible recipes where you have to scroll through someone’s life story to get to a basic recipe. I won’t even promise you a recipe, this is all story. Story aside, Damsons are close to my heart, but they are no longer in season. So I settled for plums.
To make the Jam I stewed diced plums with 10% of the weight of water (800g plums would need 80ml water). Once they began to soften (but not fall apart) I added an equal weight of preserving sugar (800g) and brought the heat down low. Honestly, I think it could have done with less sugar but have yet to really deviate from a recipe (jam is scary at first). At this point, I also added lemon juice, cinnamon and a hint of black pepper. As I stirred the mixture to dissolve the sugar it took on a glossy vibrant texture. I dreamt of painting my imaginary living room walls that colour, of offsetting it with creams and brusk oranges. Once the sugar dissolved I cranked the heat. Watched the rolling boil turn the liquid bubbly and viscous. I should have boiled it for longer, I am no longer listening to recipe times, I am becoming ungovernable. A little earlier than necessary I scooped it into oven-steralised jars and left them in the frigid kitchen to cool overnight.
To me, and my mother apparently, jam-making always seemed like a complex and difficult art. Now I’ve made a ok-ish jam I would say it isn’t as mystical and daunting as I first thought. If anything I now want to experiment with more. I also want to take away the fear of the recipe. Though botulism is a real worry, there is enough sugar in jams that I don’t actually have as much to worry about. There is space to experiment. I’ll let you know how it goes.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com
Ep.19- Decisions Decisions
lundi 9 décembre 2024 • Durée 11:05
Hello all,
In the vein of thanking people instead of apologising, thank you for your patience. It has been, what some people are calling, one hell of a month.
For those of you who are new here, welcome to Scrap Farm, the newsletter/podcast where I discuss running a farm while setting up a farm. But now, dear listener/readers, we are no longer even running a farm. And we don’t quite know what country we will be starting our own farm in. But I’ll get to that in a bit.
Since we last spoke a lot has happened. The main points are these:
* My Babci (Polish grandmother) died
* My partner and I finished work on the farm in Michigan
* We moved out of our flat
* We flew to the UK and went to a wedding
* We viewed land in England
* We viewed a house and land in Michigan
* We had a meeting with a lawyer about the UK Visa
* I flew back to the US for my grandmother’s funeral
* My partner drove his belongings from Michigan to California to stay with family
* I visited my sister in Australia
Mostly in that order, but you get the gist. And somewhere in there Donald F*****g Trump won a second term. November 2024 will be remembered as one of the longest months of my life. It just. Would. Not. End.
With death and change hot on my heels I find myself in a time of deep grief. There are now no living grandparents left (but there is Great Uncle Eddie, who is still absolutely kicking at 96). I feel this loss most keenly in stories I will now never hear. In the now unnamed people and places in my Babci’s photo albums. In all the things I should have asked. The grief sits with me now, a silent party to the upheaval of this time.
The tangible loss of my grandmother is now also melded with a liminal loss of place. All my belongings fit into two suitcases. I have spent too much time in airports. Not enough time cooking. Have not stopped moving for more than 6 days at a time. Bouncing between revelry, grief, political unravelling and indecision.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.10- April Rains
lundi 29 avril 2024 • Durée 08:10
Hi Everyone.
Welcome to Scrap Kitchen, the podcast/newsletter where I start a farm while managing a farm (while thinking about farms all the time). And then I tell you about it.
I'm not doing this alone, I'm doing this with my partner. With a farm team and supportive family and friends and boss/mentor. It's not just me. I needed to state that straight up.
This episode is the 10th, I wanted to call it April Rains. For the people listening, I hope that you can hear the bird song out my window. Weather-wise it's actually super muggy, not refreshing and rainy. It got to like 28°C over the past day or so, yet it's like overcast and somewhat sticky.
These kinds of conditions make me think about a book that I read once called Friend of the Earth. Basically, a man keeping a millionaire’s menagerie of animals alive during like the climate apocalypse. Honestly, wasn't the best book but T. C. Boyle’s descriptions of wet, damp, yellow/grey/brown weather feel spot on. Sometimes when the weather feels like this I get all tangled in what’s to come.
Ok, actually looking down, I’m currently wearing brown trousers and a yellow top so that completely isn't helping
Weather chat aside (but I am a farmer so what did you expect), it’s generally quite nice out. Spring has properly sprung here in Michigan. There are lilacs just about to pop on the trees. The magnolias are finishing up flowering. Redbud trees are budding everywhere (how very apt, but not very red).
On the farm, a lot of brush was cleared and a little patch of garlic mustard was kindly left behind. This is with the intention of doing a weed walk next week; to show anyone who visits the farm what weeds they can eat (Dandelion, Stinging Nettles, Garlic Mustard, Mullein, Dead Nettles, Chickweed, Burdock and more).
So I'm very excited about that.
In other news, I'm getting a couple of poems published, or they have already been published, in Moonday Mag and the Queer Trans Magic Zine.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.9- Solarpunk
lundi 15 avril 2024 • Durée 10:29
Hello and welcome back to another episode of Scrap Kitchen.
This is the podcast/newsletter where I talk about running a farm while starting one, while navigating climate chaos. It's pretty fun if you're interested in any of those things and if you're not, it's probably quite boring.
This episode is the ninth so far and I'm going to be calling it Solarpunk.
The reason I didn't record an episode last week was that my partner and I (along with some colleagues) went south to Ohio to see the solar eclipse. That took a large chunk of last weekend’s time. And boy, was it wonderful. 100% worth it!
In the midst of the eclipse, I saw the corona and had a big moment where I wondered what will I be doing in 22 years for the next one (or 20 years, or whenever it is). Anyway, that took priority over my time last recording time. No ragrets.
So since then, I have been doing several little Solarpunk-y things.
For those of you unfamiliar with the idea of Solarpunk, it's a play on the idea of steampunk or cyberpunk.
Steampunk is like Edwardian-esque technology, but everything has steam. Think Treasure Planet, the movie (which was a viiiibe). There's a great book that's like Egyptian Steampunk with Magic called Dead Djinn in Cairo, which I would highly recommend. But all other steampunk I find kind of...Mid. Edwardian values and gloomy outlooks abound.
Then there’s cyberpunk. Think dark alleyways, bright neon lights and, you know, a future where corporations know everything and it's always raining. Blade Runner/ Do Androids Dream is the perfect example of this.
Then comes the hope. Something that I'm forcing myself to read more of, trying to give myself better futures to imagine. To envision pathways to them. Solarpunk futures.
These encompass the idea of solar-powered/renewable technology combined with nature-forward thinking. Personally agree with all of the ideas of Solarpunk, we don’t need to replace farmers with robots (we just need to pay workers better to do “low-skill” jobs). Not only that but ‘toil’ and hard work are something that a lot of people seek. They want their efforts to go into something tangible. I digress, it's basically using existing technology combined with ancient/Indigenous knowledge and respect for the planet to stop all from dying in climate catastrophe. Pretty fun stuff.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.8-Ostara
lundi 1 avril 2024 • Durée 05:15
Dear b*****s, hello all, I'm back.
This is Scrap Kitchen.
I was off last week. Not really on purpose, but because I was doing a lot of things last Sunday (which is when I record these) and I just couldn't get around to it.
This week I am getting around to it! Thank goodness. I'm gonna do a bumper update since it's been a while.
This is Episode 8, I think I'm calling it Ostara, which is pagan-ish Easter. To an extent, there are no written records of traditional British celebrations.
And honestly, it was somewhat re-invented in the ‘60s by some random folks who were just trying to string stuff together to kind of recreate a nationalist British Identity. But also to weave back in nature reverence. Because of this, I have complex feelings around it, it's a tangle to unpick.
Who knows? Who knows?
However, you know, when thinking about the seasons and celebrating them, it's a fine framework.
Anyways we celebrated Ostara a couple of weeks ago, which was on the solstice. In all truth, it was a couple of days after the solstice because I didn't have the official date and I was just going off my diary (which was wrong). Trust no one am I right (certainly not myself for getting dates correct).
Moving swiftly on.
My partner and I invited people over to the house. We made a rabbit local rabbit, lots of vegetables and hot ‘cross’ buns (but with a wheel of the year on them instead of a cross). Guests brought all sorts of stuff including something called Cherry Bounce which is an absolutely lethal combination of Grain Alcohol, Sour Terries and Sugar. Delicious but lethal.
Also, someone brought their bassoon and played it to us in the back garden. We had a fire, people danced, we got to teach a card game and it was just truly lovely. It was a great group.
In the past, I've always kept my pagan-ish celebration pretty low-key or personal (mostly solo honestly). Now I’ve got a chance to share and celebrate with others, I'm really grateful that my beloved is so excited to join in. Events and celebrations are so much better with other people. Most things are better with other people!
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.7-Little Shoots
lundi 18 mars 2024 • Durée 07:06
Hi all,
Welcome back to Scrap Kitchen where I, Magda, take you through the process of my partner and I managing a farm while also trying to get a future farm sorted out. I’ll take you through the farming season; what we're getting up to and thinking about.
This episode is the seventh (I'm pretty sure) and I'm calling it Little Shoots (because I am soppy and it's spring).
I thought I'd start this episode with a bit of gratitude. One of my friends and I send a lot of voice notes backwards and forwards of things we're grateful for. Personally, I think it's a really great way to think about all that we have and not focus on what we don't have. It's a good way of identifying all the good s**t, even within all the bad.
* When I talked to my Partner’s Friend’s Girlfriend yesterday she told me about the nurses where she's working who are trying to unionize. She saw some real b******t union-busting propaganda and thought of me. I love that I’m strongly associated with being pro-union. But more importantly, their whole hospital consortium is trying to Unionise, that's pretty amazing.
* The Book recommendations I got from hanging out with people this week.
* Mostly I'm grateful for the farm team, most of whom came back this year. This particularly feels amazing. To be working with the same people for a second year in a row.
* Also for moving my body more than before.
We're really starting to kick off the farming season and it's great to feel my way back into all the stretching and moving and carrying that we have to do.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.6- Snow Fall
lundi 11 mars 2024 • Durée 04:45
Hello and welcome back to Scrap Kitchen.
This is episode 6 and I think I'm gonna call it Snow Fall. Or maybe Slow Fall.
For those of you in the United Kingdom, a Happy Mother's Day (especially mine)! I'm about to go on a call with my mother so I have half an hour to type this s**t out and get it ready.
So I'm gonna do a short one this week mainly because it is our final week before the staff start a farm. This means we've been rushing around a lot, today and yesterday were our first two days of not doing farm tasks (apart from looking after seedlings) in weeks. So this is like the Final Rest™ we get before the season starts. Hence why I thought I'd make a quick update today.
The Week in 5 Photos
Here are five pictures that I wanted to talk a little bit about not too much hopefully but things from the last week or so
The first is beautiful, I think it's a print, I'm not exactly sure, it says ‘Community is the most effective form of rebellion’ and it's by Eileen Jimenes. They're on Instagram and I just took a screenshot of it because clearly, I needed a reminder.
The next is some kale. No! It's not. It's some chard! It's some chard that we picked today. This very morning. The chard has been growing all through the winter (in our high tunnel) and it got absolutely battered by frost. Freezing and thawing, freezing and thawing. This meant that the skin on the outside, like the flesh of the leaf, the bit that holds the leaf together, was peeling away. Underneath it was mealy and cottony. The chard picked today and it's finally not disgusting (or mealy/cottony and getting eaten by woodlice) so that's a big win. We can start selling it again.
The next picture is some Tatsoi that bolted.
Tatsoi is an Asian green, a brassica. You can tell it's a brassica because the flowers (before they turn a classic bright yellow) look like baby broccoli heads. Which, I think, is kind of cool.
Brassicas; broccoli, cabbage, kale, brussels sprouts, kohlrabi, are all the same species. Different elements of them were bred out. For example the leaves for kale, the flowers for broccoli and cauliflower etc. It was interesting to see.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.5- Needful
lundi 4 mars 2024 • Durée 07:13
Hello, and welcome back to Scrap Kitchen.
This is episode five, I'm calling it Needful.
Right now I'm recording/writing this in the sunny back garden of the house that I'm house-sitting. So if you hear some wind or some rustling leaves that's because they're are.
Recently I've been thinking about the poem A Small Needful Fact by Ross Gay which talks about the murder of Eric Garner at the hands of the police. It came up, just popped into my psyche, before I remembered that I'd actually seen Ross Gay recently at the University in Ann Arbor.
He was doing a speech. A talk. I don't know. What people do at universities with this kind of stuff. A poem thing. He read from his latest book and it made me really want to get back into writing. When this poem popped back up for me, I was like, oh damn I've seen this guy he's great.
The poem itself is very mournful quite hesitant but also with a hint of hopefulness and that is the feeling that I'm feeling at the moment. Some of this has to do with Palestine, the Congo, honestly all of the places in the world where colonialism is ongoing.
Is that Eric Garner workedfor some time for the Parks and Rec.Horticultural Department, which means,perhaps, that with his very large hands,perhaps, in all likelihood,he put gently into the earthsome plants which, most likely,some of them, in all likelihood,continue to grow, continueto do what such plants do, like houseand feed small and necessary creatures,like being pleasant to touch and smell,like converting sunlightinto food, like making it easierfor us to breathe.
Of course, there are things that we can do we do to combat (maybe not combat, this isn't a war), like boycotts, sanctions, divestments while we still can, protests, and chaining yourselves to arms dealers.
There's a lot of stuff that can be done. But also at times, it feels like there's nothing that can be done. That's not true.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.4- Coopetition
lundi 26 février 2024 • Durée 07:42
Hi, all. It's me. I'm back.
I just came back from the farm, and since it's Sunday, I'm going to be recording one of these little voice notes for you. This one I'm calling Coopetition, named after the concept that was introduced to me by our mentors/bosses on Broadfork Farm, Janet and Dan.
The idea of Coopetition is that it includes both cooperation and competition. It's an interesting way of thinking about farming, feeding people, and just in general. It will come up later when I give you a little update on my life.
Farm Updates
This week on the farm we seeded some radishes and turnips. I then spent this morning trying to get the overhead water sprinklers to stop being full of copper. I got soaking wet. I got a little grumpy, and then I just turned on the drip. Well, I had to fix it a little and move stuff around. It wasn't as easy as just ‘turning on’. I had to drive out for a part. It was a lot, but, there was a way around it. And now our seedlings are slowly getting watered!
We are hoping to get some potting soil pretty soon, but that is taking its sweet f*****g time to show up on the farm. And that's okay. We will seed things immediately when we get the soil. Things take a while to get places.
Sometimes in farming, I get a little bit anxious, a little on edge. I get itchy to start stuff, and then it just absolutely Will. Not. Start. Like now, where there's potting soil that hasn't been delivered by truck (something I have no control over). It’s both a humbling and frustrating experience. But mostly, I'm trying to take it as a sign. You can't do it yet. There's almost nothing you can do yet. In terms of seeding. Of course, there are other things I can do. So that's what we've been up to. The new seeding table is completed. It's stunning. I'm itching to use it (clearly), and that's about it. Just a lot of tidying and getting stuff ready for when people come back to work.
Longer Term Updates
In terms of updates, not for the farm that we're currently managing, but for the farm that my partner and I hope to run one day, there as been some movement. This time last week (so Monday) I found that the , which is through Land Workers Alliance, had put up several listings for land, which is amazing. That's super cool.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
Ep.3-Commons and the myth of burnout
lundi 19 février 2024 • Durée 08:58
Hi, welcome back to Scrap Kitchen.
This is my third episode so far. I think I'm going to call this one Commons and the myth of burnout.
Previously I have had some things to say about burnout. I have previously written about avoiding it, but I had an interesting reframing recently. Please note I don’t want to be all click-bait-y but more share what was presented to me. Im going to hopefully rationalize it.
So I just came back from a conference; OEFFA, the Ohio Ecological Food and Farm Association conference. I'm currently in Michigan, but they're very kind and they let people from different states come. The whole conference was really interesting. It reinvigorated the already-building excitement in me to start farming this season. And I got to see a lot of really fascinating people talk, especially about things that are very close to home. I love going to these kinds of conferences and making friends with people. Got some very interesting takeaways.
Asking for help
One of the people who spoke was Sophia Buggs, of Lady Buggs Pharm, who gave an absolutely heart-wrenching speech about asking for help. Specifically with long Covid and the complexities of her as a woman who is Black, saying that she could not breathe. Because of long Covid, but also because of the compounding stresses that she was under (working in farming and going to DC). Eventually, she had to ask for help and while she received it, the speech was more about learning to ask for help.
This struck me, as someone who had Covid and then took a very, very long time to recover. I spoke to a friend a few months back and she asked if I still needed a full day in bed every week. And I was like, Then I remembered that actually when we met (in Colorado on a farm), I did actually need one full day in bed [per week] for months. For the whole time I was there. At the time I was still suffering from long-Covid and nursing myself back to health slowly. That conversation was a really interesting reminder of not how far I'd personally come. But also what destabilizing events I was just absolutely (actively) forgetting from my own history. How hard it can be to ask for help in times like that.
This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit
My partner and I are in the throws of discussion. We are trying to decide where to live.
The options are clear but also cloudy, so I’ll try to lay them out.
Farming in the UK
After talking with a lawyer (for a very affordable price of £100, thanks to the Immigration Advice Service) we have to tread carefully and I have to get a job. For those of you unfamiliar with the UK’s b******t immigration policy a couple needs a combined income of £29k a year to apply for a Visa. Because this is our first time applying, I have to make that entire income myself to get my partner into the country. To prove this I need 6 months worth of paychecks. And realistically I will need to hold down a job for way longer than that. In those 6 months, my partner can visit the UK but he obviously cannot work here, live here or use the NHS. The jury is still out on if he’s allowed to get a driver’s licence. Once I have enough paychecks, and he is physically out of the country we can apply for the Visa. We need all the proof we collected over the past few years and a s**t-tone of money and then to wait several weeks as our fate hangs in the balance.
If he is allowed in then he can move over here and bein work on the land. This month we looked at some land near Exeter through the South West Land Match Scheme. The owners of which were very kind and let us visit (and stay overnight) during our whistlestop tour of the UK. The land has an enclosed section with shepherd huts that are likely to be redone into a barn, an orchard of young fruit trees and plenty of water. It is located between 3 market towns and about 30 minutes from Exeter which is ideal for the weekend market. The landowners are not only supportive but pretty cool (helped to set up the foodbank within their village). It’s a solid option. It could be done. We are still in discussion with them and nothing is set in stone just yet.
So what are the stumbling blocks? Well, the main one is that I need a Job. Pronto. ASAP. Probably yesterday. Has anyone looked at the job market recently? It’s fierce. I’m out here sending several tailored applications a day and so far, no dice. Add into this the unknown amount of time my partner and I will be apart and the general delay to our being able to farm next year. We’ve agreed we need to get out of thinking we’ll be sorted by March (when the farm work begins), but it’s hard not to think about the loss of growing time this year is likely to cause. There’s also the matter of us both needing UK driving licences (I grew up in London, when would I have needed one), of finding accommodation, of starting over again somewhere that is likely to be only temporary. Oh and in 3 years we’d have to do the VISA all over again.
But then there are the advantages. The political climate is less volatile. Yes, that’s with Keir Stahmer being a pro-genocide, anti-immigrant, neo-liberal wet tea towel. But it’s less on the verge of a civil war. There are also better things about the UK as a whole; public transport, the NHS (what remains of it), the lack of guns in schools, the proximity to my friends and family. The last two points are especially vital if we are to eventually start a family of our own. Not owning land would also give us flexibility and freedom, having support from the landowners and the LWA would be really helpful. Me having to have a job for at least some of the time would mean we don’t have to plough through all our savings immediately.
Farming in the US
Then there’s the other side of things. A side I have resisted for a while now but is a viable option that needs to be properly considered. My partner and I looked at land near where we have been living in Michigan. It was, unfortunately, close to perfect. 5 acres, with a beautiful 100-year-old barn, a farmhouse, a duck pond, an orchard, a mini-greenhouse and apparently some cats come with the property. Oh, and the owners seemed to like us and are in no rush to sell. It doesn’t however have a well, is surrounded on all sides by industrial agriculture and costs quite a f*****g lot.
To get this land we would have to go through the process of applying for a loan through the USDA. We’re currently adapting our business plan to the area to see if we would even be eligible for the loan. If we managed to get the loan and buy the property we would then have a mortgage to pay. Something not insignificant when starting a small business from scratch. But on the other hand, the land would be ours. Which is a wild thing to me as I made peace pretty early on with the fact I would never get on the property market. But now here is the option to do so and I honestly don’t know what to do with it.
So what are the stumbling blocks here? One would be getting well on the property, without which we would be unable to water crops. Another would be actually qualifying for the USDA loan. Then there’s the political situation in the US. Not looking very hopeful in terms of POC/women’s/LGBTQ+ rights, or environmental protections, or curbing the exponential rise of fascism. But then, how privileged is it of me to run away when things start looking bad? To take an option that so few people have, to just leave when there is good to be done and people to be fed. Conversely, does that mean I have a saviour complex if I do stay? There’s also the emotional aspect of it all. We have been telling people for the past year we’re moving to the UK, roadblock after roadblock, time after time. We said goodbye to our friends under these conditions. And I thought I might finally live near some of my family again. It feels selfish to stay and selfish to go.
But again, there are advantages. We know the area. In the past two years, we have built up a (pretty good) reputation with businesses and other farmers. There is a thriving local food scene which we were, until recently, a part of. That isn’t something small, the connections we made are strong and tended with care, and we wouldn’t have to start from scratch. The land itself has been used for growing organically and has all the buildings we would actually need to succeed (except a high tunnel). Not only that but we could own a house, and if it all went to s**t business-wise we could sell that house and get the money back (as someone who has paid more than £30k in rent so far in her life that is a real plus). No one would have to get a driver’s licence. Or a Visa. The no Visa would free up a big ol’ chunk of change we could put towards a high tunnel. But then we would have to pay a deposit on a house so either way these choices are expensive. Oh, and it’s sunny there (which cannot be said of the UK).
So here we are, the decision of it. The stretching thin on both our parts to keep both options open. To not yet close a door so we don’t yet have to climb out the window.
It’s homeownership and political unrest on one side and housing instability, family and free healthcare on the other. What a f*****g choice.
In all this, I have to remind myself what we’re actually working towards. It’s pretty funny that I’ve been using the ‘three pillars’ of what matters to me when applying for jobs, but I need to hark back to them now. Somewhat more sincerely.
Connection, Nourishment and Knowledge.
That’s what matters. Growing and supplying nutritious vegetables. Supporting the whole damn ecosystem. Building resilient communities, empowering them and sharing whatever information I can. No gatekeeping. Tearing down barriers to entry. And I’d like to do all this with my partner. That’s the core of it.
Wherever we end up this is what we are committing to doing. There will be people to feed, to get to know, to train and encourage, to learn from. There will be a community to join and mould. And if there isn’t we will make one. Wherever we choose will be the right choice and we will try so hard to make it work.
Honestly, a part of me just wants to skip to that part, to the hard work of it, instead of the tedium of decision. But there is no way to fast forward this time. Instead, we need to sit in it. The uncomfortable gestation of winter. The itching for spring. We won’t get rest like this again so I should probably enjoy it while it lasts.
I’m stirring a sauce I may never eat. Pickling a summer that will never come again. Dreaming of seeds I may never plant. There’s a joy in this. Preserving. Saving of a harvest, that would otherwise go to rot…
I didn't do one of these Scrap Kitchens last week because we worked all day last Sunday at a Farm and Garden event the library put on (in honour of Earth Day). My beloved and I set up a little stand, promoted the farm’s CSA program and proffered Turnip slices to willing attendees. Because of this we got to witness several people try turnips for the first time and several people changed their minds about turnips before our very eyes. Whether or not they were faking it, who knows. But Hakurei Turnips are amazing. Known for altering opinions.
The event got me thinking about why we do this. Why do we brave weird weather? Why we keep lifting, carrying, bending, building?
Sure, some of it is watching people try a vegetable for the first time. But another big part is hearing a story or a recipe, a yarn about how someone’s family cooked vegetables. The new dawn of recognition as they spot a long-forgotten ingredient at the farmstand. Something entangled in their childhood. So then they tell you just how their mother made it. That’s a pretty good reason to me.
Another great one is seeing the transformation, especially in the farm team. In the team members who have returned this year, how much more confident they are, how much more questioning, how much faster at planting lettuce. It’s amazing to get to witness. They end up asking, why do we do it this way? I've been reading this book. Why do we do this? Why does this person do that? I truly appreciate how much effort they're putting into learning.
The main reason why we do, why we want to do this, is to feed people. Properly.
Our food system is pretty broken. If you're not part of the solution then you're part of the problem. In a less guilt-riddled sense, the work is wildly rewarding. To change a piece of land. To provide for the community you are within. To tie yourself to it in a tangible way (quite literally feeding people). That is rewarding in and of itself.
Not only that but localising yourself, opens you up to really learn an area. When you see the food that it grows every day, the work that’s gone in.
Yeah, just a lot of gratitudes innit.
Current Farm Update
On Friday, we planted over 1.5k plants. Mostly Kale, Chard, Collards and Cabbages.
We had to wait until Friday to plant because there was a big harsh frost on Wednesday night and then a baby frost (it only just got below 0°C) on Thursday evening. Yet now, it’s 10°C at night. Climate Change! Ok, I promise, no more weather.
Not only did we plant all our full-season Brassicas on Friday we also potted up (transplanted little seedlings into bigger pots) 400 plants! Every stage of plants got shunted along to the next stage. Small ones into bigger pots, bigger ones into the great outdoors. Now all our Peppers, Aubergines and Tomatoes have enough soil to last until they are planted for good. They already look greener for it.
In less than one week our CSA begins. In just five short days, customers will descend on the farm for their first pickup of the season’s vegetables. Whether we are ready, or not.
Truthfully I think we're pretty set for having enough vegetables and enough variety. But still, the radishes are not doing well...We were hoping to include some in our first share.
These are the problems one faces with farming.
My radishes are doing s**t. The climate's losing its mind. The usual.
In terms of the future farm, there's not much to report. It has been a pretty hectic couple of weeks. We technically had one day off in that time. So rest is the number one order of business.
But my partner and I have found out about $5 Mimosas at a local bakery and have made a plan for tomorrow. Our schedule has now switched to Wednesday to Sunday (to allow us to have the farmstand open all weekend). Which means a lot more time for weekday Mimosas. But also it should give us time to work a bit more on our plan. Especially this week when we have a long weekend now which is wonderful and necessary.
Oh, how could I forget? The asparagus is popping!
For anyone who hasn't seen how asparagus grows, it looks fake but it is not only delicious but real. Once it comes in (grow up, technically), we will be picking asparagus for two hours every morning for the next month or so. Personally, I am very excited for it to be popping up and yet it also feels like gearing up for a marathon. The season is really underway. Rest while you can, and all that.
To help myself imagine these futures I have been reading a lot of Solarpunk books recently, A Half-built Garden, the Monk and Robot series, I could go on. I’ve also been reading Chris Newman’s new book about first-generation farming and the importance of working within a collective to meet the needs of your local community. He dives into the creation and maintenance of sovereign food systems, how to factor in economise of scale and create lasting change. This book is on pre-release for his patreons but when it comes out proper, believe me, I will be shouting about it.
When not reading I’ve been processing a lot of dandelions from the farm. We had a very long day last Wednesday, with the final task of the day being weeding. Without even having to ask, the team saved dandelions. Ah, the joy of being known for your love of edible weeds. That evening I came home and processed lots of dandelions in my garden. The unopened flowers were used to make capers, the leaves to dry out (to make into a nutrient-rich powder for smoothies/soups/baking) and the roots were also dried ready for roasting (into caffeine-free coffee alternative). Right now they are all drying on a mesh dehydrator in the hallway.
As I write this I’m drying Dandelion flowers for the first stage in making jam. They get boiled with lemon and orange, I let them steep for a few hours, and then the sifted liquid is boiled down with sugar and cardamom. To me, making this jam feels like the first fresh breath of spring. To be in touch with nature, capturing its bright yellow essence, deliciously holding it on your tongue.
Speaking of Solarpunk, the Land Workers Alliance, a union of farmers, is calling for a doubling of the agricultural budget to help with a transition to more sustainable and just land practices.
At this time, in an election year, when belief in politicians is so low, it is more important than ever to connect with your local MP and share with them your concerns for our future. For a fairer and more sustainable future. It could be as simple as finding your MP, and sharing your concerns with them in an email or meeting. I can’t wait until we have the chance to invite MPs out to the farm we build to show them the importance of local, climate-forward agricultural alternatives. Until then I’ll berate them via email.
Do I think the Labour Party could and should be doing better, more, anything? F**k yes, I do. But does that mean I’m going to disengage, absolutely not.
Current farm updates
The farm we currently manage, just outside Ann Arbor, Michigan, is in full swing. Right now we are seeding radishes everywhere. The kale and chard that overwintered (were planted in November and lived in our greenhouse until now), are starting to bolt. This means they're going to flower, along with being bitter and disgusting and not great. For their crimes, they shall be pulled out and in their place, radishes will be seeded.
We are at the stage of potting up tomatoes; which means taking them from tiny little plug trays into bigger pots. Allowing them to grow big enough that by the time we plant them out (in about a month) in mid-May they will have strong root systems and be sturdy enough to survive.
We are dabbling in chaos planting herbs at the moment, which is heavy direct seeding, sprinkling herbs in the ground in certain beds. They don't seem to do that well transplanted at the moment, or they don't germinate as expected so we’re being a bit more liberal. Improving on a practice we used last year.
Right now we are having a Vole Apocalypse! On top of the kale and chard bolting and trying to go to seed they're also being undermined (quite literally, their roots are being eaten through) by voles. Our mousetraps have been very effective this year and completely ineffective vole-wise. Apparently, because mice will climb up things for peanut butter and voles don't like beef jerky as much as the internet thinks they do. At this rate, we’re losing like a kale plant every couple of days to just vole activity. In the greenhouse in the mornings, you can see them skittering around, flagrantly rubbing it in our faces. So that's certainly something we're working on.
Because of torrential rain, we took the opportunity to take the day off work on Friday. Not only had we run out of inside tasks but most of the outside tasks are awful to perform in wet soil and can even increase compaction if you do them wrong.It was wonderful to have a little more time to do things, which brings me on to…
Future farm updates
We, my partner and I, spent yesterday working more on our business plan. We've come up with a pretty good tool for calculating the Cost to Produce for various vegetables we intend to grow. This includes the hours it takes to seed, to water, to plant, to prep beds, to harvest, to wash. Added into that the price of seeds, potting mix and crop-specific equipment. We decided not to include the price of trays or compost because we're going to have to buy those straight up at the start of every year (a sunk cost, if you will). From that, we calculate roughly a 30% loss (at least) to figure out how many bunches we could produce of kale (or whatever else). From there, the predicted profit per bunch can be calculated. It’s definitely interesting to look at, and consider what you want to factor in. Do I include the cost of going to market in the per-bunch pricing? Or is it also a sunk cost for the eight hours spent (prepping for, travelling to and working at the farmers market).
All sorts of other costs come up. Naturally, we've been having debates around that.
Which have read to clear decisions, such as the starting size we want to grow on, roughly four blocks of ten 50’(15m). Plus a High tunnel (eight 15m beds) for our Solinacea.
We're trying to figure out how best to contact local businesses, such as value-added producers (jams, ferments etc.). Until we know where we're going to be next year, this is not the easiest task. But we still have an outline, informed by Chris Newman’s suggestion to do a community food assessment before getting into business, of how plan to do so.
Quite a bit of work yesterday.
We were also sent a beautiful link for some land from my mother. We won't be buying that land sight unseen, but if anyone is interested it’s on auction in May. It's pretty cool to see that there are plots of land out there for when we might actually get the chance to buy some. How very hope-making.
For now, I think we've settled on leasing land for two to three years. First to get our foot in the door in the UK market, and also to not financially over-commit. Once there, we’ll make more informed decisions down the line.
So thats it, lots of planning, lots of prepping on our current farm and for our future farm.
But through it all, pretty good.
Pretty Solarpunk to imagine how we integrate ourselves into a food system, to make it fairer, more sustainable, more sovereign. It’s a pleasure and privilege to be able to think about this.
Another life update is we're moving to a new room (you might be able to hear the echo of an empty room on the audio version). We just moved everything in. Now we need to settle. Let the silt settle before we put art up on the walls. I always find it helpful to know where the sunlight comes in, how it hits, and what you want to see most often. All important to know before you put up pictures of my family and friends. To make space for them. To make sure I get the maximum view of their faces each day. For this to be possible the jitters of moving must settle and the sun must return from the overcast sky.
Farm Updates
We’re almost full-time now! I mean, my partner and I are going in most days, but the ‘staff’, the farm team are coming in for four days a week for the next couple of weeks.
Already its been a lot of work. We've started all of our big like Solanaceae; tomatoes, aubergine, peppers. We've started a lot of crops (radishes, turnips, green onions, carrots) that are going to go into our CSA box in May, which is somewhat exciting, but only a month away. Which is so soon, that's actually terrifying. And exciting.
It's a bit of both.
I fluctuate wildly.
The day after we celebrated Ostara, it snowed about a foot, or I think it's a foot, I don't know the measurements over here. It snowed a lot. It was quite a bit, like at least several centimetres.
The snow delayed us a little on planting and prepping beds outside. But thankfully we’ve now been able to work outside. This entails preparing beds, laying down wood chips, and seeding mustard (to try and get rid of a root nematode that has been detected, yikes). Just lots of little things to get the farm started strong.
One of the amazing things this year is that a lot of people who worked last year have returned, meaning there's a lot less training to be done. We’re still around to answer questions for them, but people don't need to be taught how to plant things to the same extent. Work moves a lot quicker. Not only that but everyone's come in with a lot of spring energy and that's just really exciting to be around.
Future Farm Updates
In terms of our future farm, we're currently working on the business plan. It's been two weeks since my last update. In that time my partner and I have been talking through various legalities and all the things we need to get sorted for the farm business. This includes what type of farm ‘entity’ we would be setting up (most likely a Limited Liability Company) and what type of land lease we would be seeking (realistically a Farm Business Tenancy).
We’re about to tackle the finance section. Which sounds daunting but (since he's a Virgo and I'm a Virgo Moon/Mercury) is very exciting. We get to dive into Excel spreadsheets. Our love language. This year’s farm was planned out in minute detail on Excel, meaning we have a lot to go on for our future farm. The spreadsheets we are currently using come from my guy Dan Brisebois and his chef’s kiss Excellent course/book on Farmer Spreadsheets. His seed saving podcast is also not to be sniffed at.
Thats all folks, not many other updates. The current farm has been taking priority as it would in early March, late March.
The update for this year's farm is that people arrived!
We had the staff turn up on Thursday; talked them through the plan for the year. We also went over something called the Wheel of the Year which I'll probably talk about some other time. The whole team then took a tour around the farm and my partner and I showed them all the systems that we've been improving over the winter. All the signs we've been putting up and laminating!
Got a couple rounds of applause, yeah, no big deal. Were they sarcastic? Maybe. But also, you know you have a great team when they seem genuinely excited by a laminated sheet of harvest bin weights and a 5-S-ed tool tent.
This week we did lot of seeding a lot, a lot, of seeding. Within the last week we started Tomatoes, Aubergine and Peppers, which are kind of finicky. As seedlings go they're somewhat difficult. Something we're keeping a very close eye on them; their temperature, light and water. Mostly we don't want them to get ‘Leggy’.
Getting ‘Leggy’ is where a plant grows too tall too fast because it doesn't have enough sunlight. It’s reaching towards light and overextends itself. In turn, this stunts its growth for the rest of its life (so that's pretty bad).
Next week, the farm team will be in for three days but my partner and I are in for the whole week. We're going to be doing more seeding, lots of flowers need to be started. Just like Solanaceae (tomatoes, aubergine etc), flowers are quite intricate in how they need to be seeded. But in new and interesting ways. Just another layer of complexity for the diversified vegetable farm. Some of them need to be stratified which is to be left in moist soil, in the cold for up to 6 weeks. Some need direct sunlight (so not to be buried at all). Some need very specific temperatures. All very intricate.
But also amazing, to see all these trays of plants growing already. Ones that we're going to put in the ground and eventually feed to people (in like six to eight weeks). It also feels like we're finally back doing what we love doing. Yay spring!
The plan for next week is also to be doing a lot of bed prep. This is where we prepare our no-till blocks for planting. Our blocks are 100 feet by 100 feet. This is divided into 20 beds each 30 inches wide and 100 feet long. The beds are separated by a 30-inch pathway which is covered in wood chips. On the beds themselves we put compost (when necessary) and other fertility down (e.g. certain rocks (Basalt) or Alfalfa Pellets).
To prep a bed we take out any weeds that are growing and we churn up the top inch (maximum!) of soil. Sometimes we need to aerate the beds which means we use a Broadfork, imagine a normal fork but massive. It has lots of tines, which when you stand on it are pushed into the earth, this brings air into the lower soil and helps with soil health. We also need to lay down lots of new wood chips and make sure all of our beds are mostly straight. Eugh obsession with straightness. But also it helps when you're running a farm (quite hard work) if plants are in straight lines especially when you're weeding. If you can just walk in a straight line down the row and pull a weeding tool (scuffle/stirrup hoe etc.) behind you it's a lot easier than wiggling in and out of plants. The only time I will be like, ‘woo, straightness’.
We’ve got a lot of that coming up.And it's really exciting.It's really, really good.
We will also be seeding things directly into the ground next week. So that's some carrots and some turnips and radishes. It truly spring once you're seeding stuff outside.
Future Farm Updates
My partner and I have been working on the business plan. We've got some of it done, some of our history and some of our vision. This week we'll be working on more of it.
The process is bringing up a lot of interesting questions about what our ultimate aims are with the farm. Why do we want to do stuff. Or even what we want to do. It’s pretty vital to talk over.
So that's all we're really doing at the moment.
Heavy hectic week. I mean it's heavy time in general but there are good small bits of light in between it all.
I hope you all have a great week. I hope all of this makes sense and if it doesn't shout at me in the comments.
The water broke several weeks ago (it works now thankfully) but in that time it was very very hot. It was very hot in February which is wonderful and not terrifying at all lol. Lack of water, combined with heat signals to the plant that it's time to seed and so they bolted. Bolting is when a plant gets very bitter and puts its energy into making flowers (and eventually seeds).
The next picture is of a lino cut that I made with some of the people who work on the farm. I am about to get Obsessive about linocut. I'm very very excited about it.
My partner and I are planning on making some stamps with vegetables on them. So that children can make little booklets and then when they pick a vegetable (at the U-Pick) they can stamp the pepper to say they picked a pepper. Similar to passport stamps.
Is this gamifying vegetables? Possibly. But its also fun and we get to do art.
The final picture is a picture of this little (I don't know what I think it was like a juice shot something?) bottle. A little plastic square milk bottle but tiny!
And filled with rose petals that I got from a bulk food shop down the road for a dollar! I love bulk food shops. I love reusing little packages that look super cute. I love the cardamom and rose syrup I made with them to put in my coffee. It’s all making me very excited for sunshine (it's not sunny anymore but it's gonna come back).
So that's where we're at right now.
In terms of longer-term goals, we are focusing on the present farm right now. Once we get a little bit more settled into the rhythm I think we're gonna have like a day a week to focus on the future farm. No big updates. Just little updates and pictures.
In all of this like mourning and sadness and righteous anger action there also has to be noticing of the inequality where we live. In our very hyper-local spaces. We need to be thinking about the people who face injustice in our daily lives and by freeing them we can also free Palestine, free ourselves.
But we also should chain ourselves to arms dealers.
I just thinking about this, since this morning I was at a bike co-op where volunteers fix each other's bikes for the local neighbourhood. There were all sorts of people there; businessmen, unhoused people, hipsters. Getting their bikes fixed for free. Add into this the community gardens near me (or maybe they are allotments) have wheelchair-accessible raised beds. This is something I always dreamed of for the farm that we eventually are going to have. Getting to see it in action (before I even got to dream it up or have to figure it out) is really wonderful. To see something that you had thought about, people are doing this already and I don't have to wait until I have my own land for this to exist. I still want it to make wheelchair-accessible raised beds exist, but blueprints help dream a new way forward. To me, this is a small needful fact that even within this morning there are people doing things and people striving to make their communities a fairer and more equal place. Working on things that will outlast them.
So yeah, on that fun and cheery start.
Honestly, it feels weird to be making anything that is overly fun and cheery at this time. It feels disingenuous. But here we are, I said I was gonna do this every week, so I'm gonna do this every week.
Current Farm Updates
For the current farm that we're working on, the potting soil finally arrived.
That was a sharp pivot, wasn't it?
So we have done a lot of seeds. Seeds on seeds.
We've been seeding all our alliums, so a lot of onions, some leeks, and then lettuce, Asian greens, so bok choy and ming choy, and I think that's it. It feels like we're really starting to grow stuff. All these little seedlings peeking out the dirt.
We've been direct seeding a lot as well. The water's working again (it got fixed by Glen, kind soul). Now we can actually water all the stuff that we've put in the ground. Which is pretty nice.
In other news, I dropped a tray of leeks. But in the grand scheme of things that really doesn't matter.
We’re also getting ready the the staff to come back to work (I think we're hiring one more person). Everyone's starting on the 14th of March. So there's a sort of gearing up. A ramping up towards mid-March. We're gonna be printing out special things (processes, instructions, Most Wanted Bug LIsts etc) and laminating them and I don't know whatever else people do to make their Standard Operating Procedures very clear. It’s a lot of organising stuff and cleaning out the fridge. Lots of washing, lots of bleaching.
Future Farm Updates
On the current farm and for our future farm, things have been pretty much on pause this week. My partner just finished his other job a Monday back so I think a break was needed. We weren't going to push so hard on our future farming plans for a little rest week.
But now we're going to get back into it. Hopefully working a bit more on the business plan.
We also got an offer for a first right to refusal from my mother's friend for when they buy land, possibly. No pressure.
For anyone who doesn't know a first right to refusal is something that we were introduced to by our bosses in Virginia. They have in their will. This means that for their farm, should something happen to them (hopefully not, touch wood) the people that they list as their first right to refusal have the first chance to buy the farm. That means they have the first right to say no to buying the farm and then after that, it goes to everyone else (the open market).
So to be offered the first right to refusal is to be offered the chance to say no first.
Kind of what it says on the tin.
In our case, it wouldn’t be to buy the farm but to work the land. It’s a really wonderful thing to be offered, so thank you.
We're still going to be applying for the land match scheme. It’s a far-away land offer, time-wise, so we will still be working on securing short-term land. It’s great to have the option for the future.
For now, what we're going to be working on is a business plan. And eventually the visa. With the visa we’re going to wait a little bit, I think, we're going to get a little further ahead on the business plan. Send that out, then send out the visa, and get back some land offers (so simple lol). I mean obviously, that's not necessarily what's going to happen but that's the dream so that's the plan of action right now
Ok wrapping up. It feels like it's been quite a long week but not a bad one. But in some ways a bad one.
I hope there is sunshine wherever you are that is listening to this.
If you don't know what a landlink (or a land match in the UK) is, it's where established/older farmers either with some spare land (or actively trying to get someone to replace them on the land), are put in touch with people who want to farm the land. E.g. people like me and my partner. The Land Workers Alliance, which is a union of farmers, is doing one for the southwest of England. They have up a lot of 1 Ha listings, roughly 2.5 acres, which is a great size for starting a little farm.
To get one of those plots, some of which have running water, electricity, and road access (these are fancy, fancy plots), you have to send the farmer, an email with your CV, a cover letter, and a business plan.
That means the next step for my partner and I is to work on a business plan. Hopefully, we'll be getting that done before the farming season kicks into a very high gear. Can't promise that, but I am hopeful. That's what we're working towards.
I've also had some lovely emails back from other people who I've been put in touch with (through my aunt's friend's daughter or whoever else). It's been really nice to just hear people wanting to help. Even if they're not sure exactly how to get someone onto land. Some offer funding advice or all this other stuff. It's been really useful.
Coopetition
So let’s bring it back around to the title; the Coopetition. When I discovered (whoa, Christopher Columbus it was there all along), when I found the website for myself, even though it already existed, the Southwest Landmatch website, I had this little hoarding moment. A little one. It wasn't the best reflection of who I am/trying to be as a person. I was all I shouldn't tell anyone about this. I should keep this to myself. And then about 10 minutes later, I had a moment where I was like, why the s**t would I do that?
We can't farm five different parcels of land all the way across the southeast of England. Why the hell would I not tell everyone about this? This is literally why I started a podcast. This is quite literally what I want, the information I want to share with other people who are in similar situations to myself. If they don't already know about it. That's why I did this. So even within trying to be very open and not gatekeeping information, I still have moments where I'm like, oh, keep it for yourself, but I refuse to do that. I'm going to tell you all about it.
Who wants to get on land? There's more than enough land for us to farm. There are more than enough people for us to feed. In healthier ways for both the planet and people than we are currently doing. To not try to encourage people or share that information is just silly. It's not really acting from abundance is it?
So that's what we're up to at the moment. Another update is that my corn has sprouted. I had four of the Glass Gem not sprout, and none of the Dakota Black. This means that I have 96% germination on the Glass Gem and 100% germination on the Dakota Black. I was pretty sceptical if I'm being honest. I did not think they were going to sprout, but they swelled with water, and now they're an absolute rooty sprouty mess. I wish we had chickens to feed them to.
Seeds coming back to life. And that feels very spring-like.
Here we are those are the updates. The only other update is that I'm knitting again, and that is taking a lot of my time. I'm enjoying it. I'm enraptured, and I'm knitting a sock. So it's pretty exciting stuff over here.
I hope you all have a good week, and if any of you are looking for land, I hope the Southwest Landmatch is helpful to you and that you carry the spirit of coopetition into your daily life.
I also listened to Jim Embry, who recently won a James Beard award recently (along with seed keepers Ira Wallis and Rowan White). He’s a seed guy. He's also a slow-food movement guy. He had some amazing things to say, that boil down to how we treat the world the same way we treat women. So we need to treat the world and women better. We need to return to ancestral knowledge and the knowledge keepers within indigenous communities. And it's people of colour and women and queers and indigenous people who will be leading the climate recovery.
In his second talk at the conference, he was asked how he does it all. He is a speaker, travels around, works a farm etc. His response stuck out to me. His answer was this; that we have in some way been conditioned to think that if we get too politically involved or we get too invested within our communities, we will #burnout. That the weight of it all will just crush us and that we'll not be able to do anything anymore. And while that is a possibility, if we take on too much and bite off more than we can chew, we could absolutely get crushed by the weight of our own ambitions. His point was this:
If you are building community if you're building a web of reliance and mutual support, mutual aid, mutual encouragement and shouldering the burden for someone else, they also shoulder the burden for you.
We create an interwoven mycelial network of support. And so by doing the scary thing and getting involved in our local political scene, getting involved in our local communities, doing acts of resistance (that are at times technically illegal or at times just like scary because we haven't done them before), or relearning things, that it seems a little intimidating. By doing that, you stabilize yourself within a community. Within a space. You give the community a chance to help you. In turn you get to serve your community.
His response makes me think of a book that I read recently; Who is Wellness for? by Fariha Roisin. I heard about the book because I was listening to Nikki Franco's Venus Roots podcast where she interviews the author. Roisin was saying (it was actually a very Capricorn sentiment of hers), isn't it so sexy, so exciting to be beholden to other people? To have a responsibility to other people. We could go around and be little islands, but it's so exciting that we are interconnected because it means that you are accountable to people, they're accountable to you, and you get to work together. So here is my jumble of all those interconnected little things.
This week on the farm (that we're managing)
We're doing a lot of little things to get ready for next year. I am going to be doing a germination test on some corn that my boss saved a couple of years ago. Glass Gem corn and Dakota Black. This season I want to grow these out in the three sisters, which is corn, beans and squash, and it's an indigenous technique native to America. Well, to Turtle Island. But I need to check that the corn will grow.
To do this she's given me some pots of corn. I am (quick and dirty) going to put them in a little Tupperware with a piece of wet paper, and I'm going to put out a ten by ten square of each corn type and then see how many germinate. That will give me a germination percentage, which is actually something you have to do by law if you're going to be selling seeds. But I'm not going to get into the technicalities of that. But I'm doing germination tests this week.
We're also seeding onions, building, and continuing to build our new soil table, which I talked about last week. We're going to a meetup for veg growers in the area. We're going to some training on how to make sure that your veg is kept clean post-harvest. Just to make sure that we're up to date on all of the laws or the guidelines.
Long Term Updates
There are no true updates. But I am really, really hopeful, which is an update. When we were at the conference in Ohio, there were four or five different offers from people who were saying, I have two acres, I have a greenhouse, I just need to find some young people who want to farm it. Which made me so excited (if I was going to live in Ohio). But still, the idea that there are probably farmers like that in the UK who just don't know where to look. As long as we keep putting our word out there, we might be able to connect with them. And even if we connect with them, and it's not the right person, as long as we keep growing our networks, we can connect the right people to the right farmers.
If anyone listening to this has any farmer connections who happen to have two acres (and a greenhouse), please get in touch lol. But otherwise, very hopeful, very excited.
It snowed in Ohio while we were there. Lots of the people at the conference had made points about not getting snow anymore, and then it snowed. It's still not to the same extent that it was pre-climate chaos, but it was beautiful to see, so I got to see a little bit of winter that I thought I was going to miss.
Découvrez des podcasts liées à Scrap Farm- Starting an agroecological farm from scratch. Explorez des podcasts avec des thèmes, sujets, et formats similaires. Ces similarités sont calculées grâce à des données tangibles, pas d'extrapolations !
