The hardest part

September 2012

I always knew that leaving the city wasn't going to be easy. London and I had come to a very relaxed way of living together and life was pretty settled before I left. It's been a year now and seemed a timely point to check on whether things were still heading the way I'd planned...

Of course they aren't, (the best laid plans, and all that) I didn't live out a full year on the farm and I'm no longer focussed on horticulture and not delivering veg into London. Once again I have two jobs to sustain my existence and might be living a tad beyond my means. Current plans are heading in the direction of a house, much less off grid and sustainable, rather prefabricated, space beyond my needs and a wee garden. 

This blog post is not intended as doom and moan, au contraire. I am working in a job I love, that brings together caring for people with working on the land. Not only do I have the benefit of working on the farm through the seasons, but now I see the profound impact it has on others. This has brought me to the realisation, finally that it certainly has been the 'right' risk for me to take. It has led me to a career I would never have imagined in which I am able to direct my enthusiasm for farming, the outdoors and craft (yay), in such a positive way as tools to care for and develop others.

A fundamental reason for escaping the city was to remove myself from the stream that was pushing me ever onwards, up that ladder of success. This year more than ever before, I feel that I have gone with the flow. I've tried really hard to go with what feels right, even when that goes against my predetermined expectations and natural decision making.

Right now, the lack of funds has become something of a worry. In an ideal world I'd follow the example so beautifully demonstrated by Kevin MacLeod recently and get my couple of acres, create a home that bears no impact and spend my hours working the land and with all it produces. However, I have confidence that each step I take in life moves me closer to my ideal and little by little, though that ideal might be ever shifting, I am realising my dreams.

Healthy Soil, Healthy People

To my much beloved and neglected blog

A post composed between January and March of this year, never published, perhaps through a fear that once I start to describe my stronger opinions I open myself up to critique... but do you know what? I really don't mind. This is a topic I think is of great importance, and critique can only deepen my own understanding through further questioning, so go ahead....

This blog isn’t intended to be an intellectual rhetoric or polemic. Just my thoughts and feelings as I immerse myself in a year farming, and the consequences of those reactions on my choices in life. I have refrained thus far from writing to seriously on the matter of food and farming however, I began to write a piece in early January just after I had been to a conference and listened to an inspiring talk on soil health. The talk focussed on the nutrient levels found within our land and consequential uptake of those passed on directly through our food system.

We are bombarded with information on diets and how we should eat in order to be healthy. In my household I was certainly aware of calories from a very young age, and later salt, cholesterol and now sugar have become important considerations for various family members’ wellbeing. Whilst at university I spent more time with people who considered natural remedies. Local honey for hayfever, plants rather than their chemically controlled extracts for common complaints – a controversial topic I know.

At a really basic level though I had never spent any significant time thinking about the carrot I was eating, for example, where it had grown, and what quality of soil it might be in. This now seems wondrous to me, what could be more important than the quality of the basic food we feed our bodies with. If I had to eat five carrots today to find the same nutritional value as someone in my family might have done fifty years ago there seems to be a problem somewhere. So why aren’t we all talking about this over the dinner table instead of how many weight watchers points our meals contain?

To those who may see this way of thinking as an old fashioned or hippy in its ideal I can affirm to you that the speakers at this particular talk were of established professional backgrounds, scientific, academic and more practical. A focal concern was that the present drive for yield and appearance neglects the mineral content of our produce.  The complex mix of nutrients required for healthy plant growth goes a long way beyond common agricultural fertiliser; and those artificial fertilisers often leave our land wanting, making farmers dependent on their use.

I have witnessed how difficult farming without chemical assistance can be, and I appreciate the grand scale of providing food for our population. However, I do feel that the quality rather than the quantity of the food we are producing and consuming is paramount to our own health. The word organic has a hundred negative connotations which I won't even begin to discuss here, but please consider what has gone into produce your fruits and vegetables, and what state the land they departed is in. We are after all a direct product of what we eat.

Week Twenty One - Taking a breath

It’s about time I squared up, I’ve been absent for a few weeks and from more than just the blog. The primary reason is losing a man who was so dear to me, integral to my outlook on life and part of my inspiration; namely by showing me the simple pleasures of growing food. I’ve allowed the grief to take me into all sorts of places; some incredibly hard, and others more productive, the most beneficial being a deep examination of why I’m here and what I hope to achieve from it. My Grandad had his own views on this particular farm which aren’t mine to share, but there was a healthy concern for me working so many hours for such little return on something ultimately belonging to and driven by somebody else. In his last few days he very openly said that he’d never seen me so happy and if the farm was the root of that, then it wasn’t so bad.

Spring is definitely an appropriate time to be taking stock.  Once again I find myself incredibly grateful to be so close to nature, literally in every moment I notice a new growth or a sound long forgotten; I’ve seen some birds that I’ve not glimpsed in years, and even a few completely new to me. The propagation tunnel is brimming with fresh shoots and the fields are coming into their own again. No longer do people walk around the farm, get to the edge of horticulture and turn around (a sight which always makes my heart a little heavy).  There are lambs bouncing around bleating and on more than a few occasions now my coats have all remained firmly in the porch, there’s even a little colour in my cheeks.

Still I find that life is not without its difficult moments. There is quite a contingent now of us who have been around 5 months or so, and I think there are moments where some (myself included) are becoming jaded. Not only are the days physically exhausting but the weeks are long, and much as I now have a fondness for this little village it doesn’t offer much in the way of light relief.  The great thing about Spring is that it presents the opportunity for many other forms of entertainment, and the additional daylight hour means things are suddenly looking brighter.

We’re now heading into week 21 and I’ve begun to settle into my place on the farm, finally. I’m a part of a strong horticulture team and am working hard to build up the number of people collecting our boxes in London. The future plan is becoming increasingly clear, and the next step is almost certainly to be yoga training with a view to this supporting my horticultural endeavours wherever they may take me. The bustle of London is a far cry and the yearnings are beginning to space out, though when I miss the city, it hits me hard. Still, I now have a birthday to look forward to, the bright lights of summer, and hopefully some time to get my sights back on track... and make my Grandad proud; enough of the update, now it’s time to kick into action.

Week Twelve - Quarterly Review

29^th January 2012

For the past 5 years my working life has been one of regular appraisals and objective setting. The nature of personal development in the office settings I’ve encountered compared to my current situation seems so alien. I am solely responsible for my personal development during my stay here. Rik is great and teaches and challenges us regularly, but he does this out of kindness rather than obligation. 

Church Farm isn’t against people gaining experience and learning, in fact quite the opposite, but it feels as though you have to take your initiative; go out and ask questions, research the things you want a deeper understanding of, and propose any challenges you would like to take on. It feels very much more open than the opportunities I’ve had previously, and so much dependant on personal desire and initiative. This seems a more organic way of learning than any I have experienced before, but I appreciate perhaps not one that would work for everybody, perhaps part and parcel of an internship? It is certainly a situation I’d like to replicate in the future when I hope to have developed my own experiences and knowledge enough to pass them on.

Now I’m afraid I have to offer a counter to this idyllic situation. It’s really hard! I’m often so tired that I don’t find the time to catch up with everyone I’d like to, I struggle to make the time to write this blog, and certainly to research it as much as I’d like to. I have lots of ideas of things I’d love to do and learn here, but not the time to develop them. In the evenings I find I’m often too physically exhausted to consider focussing my mind for long periods of time. My one day off each week follows the two days of box packing and delivering which means I’m so exhausted, unless I’m away I’ll sleep through half of it. If I am away in the morning I know I’ll be tired through the rest of the week. The tiredness is catching up with me in this my third month

However, several days a week I have a lovely period between finishing in the fields and going up to dinner which, when utilised, is perfect for all of this. I feel like I am growing to know and understand the needs of my body much more than ever before. I know how much sleep I need and when I need to rest (even if I don’t always do it). I eat fresh, seasonal and organic food every day so my body feels well from the inside out. The next few months have to be a time where I always consider how much rest I need, but make the time to start developing in all the ways I hope to.

This Sunday I’ve taken and afternoon off in lieu for the extra hours spent on the boxes. It feels hard to take this most of the time. We can’t have time off packing, it just wouldn’t be fair on the rest of the team, and I really don’t want to take hours away from horticulture. Every day is different and there is so much to learn four days a week sometimes doesn’t seem enough. This afternoon has felt like a very productive use of time; I’ve not only rested, I’ve read, written and somehow screwed my head back on after a few days (possibly weeks) of wandering and wondering.

So I suppose I have given myself an appraisal, without needing to have the approval of my line manager and adhering to a strict criteria and format laid out before me. So long as I keep checking on myself, I hope this is both a sensible, achievable and enjoyable approach. 

PS I don't quite have the lines that this photograph shows... but they won't be far off with all of this outdoor living :)

Week Eleven – catching my breath

17^th January 2012

                                     

As the tardiness of my latest blog post attests I have been busy in recent weeks, or at least focussing my attentions in the wrong places. My vow to myself in moving here was that I must make the most of my time, and part of that is making the time to write. As well as the blog I try to write a personal journal which ideally should help me to organise my feelings and monitor my emotions. Both have suffered in recent weeks, and though it is true to say that I am busy, I am no more so than I was before Christmas. If this is a confessional now, then I must tell you that a significant proportion of this time lag is due to the pub... as it is a part of the farm family I feel as though supporting it is good for us all... Really it just offers another time out, but one that ultimately takes it out of me rather than giving back.

So in this my eleventh (?) perhaps actually twelfth week I will make a public promise to myself to manage my time more effectively (perhaps I will encounter the same problems here I did in the city).  I started local yoga classes two weeks which I hope will go some way to keeping my mind and body in order. Despite what some may think my time on the farm is not a year out or an escape from life, it is important to me that my time is spent wisely and that at the end of a year I have something to show for it. I read about farming and the food system as often as I can and try to keep my plans for the future at the forefront of my mind making sure that this is all ultimately leading in the right direction.

And finally I suppose being less hard on myself for all of the above will ultimately be the kindest way to help myself to improve.

Week Nine - It's simple really

3rd January 2012

My reasons for moving to the farm were the culmination of a year of serious contemplation and consideration. I had an inkling that London would not become my lifelong home and perhaps the countryside was my rightful place, but if you had said to me 5 years ago when graduating with a good history degree that I would find myself on a farm I’d have likely been more than a little confused. When I was a little girl I recall saying to my Dad over and over again that I did not want to work in an office, but much rather outdoors. At this stage in life I had not begun to consider how being out in the open might affect my biorhythms or improve my physical health, it was a simple and natural desire to be outside.

As I’ve said previously I’ve never been happier, or healthier than I am right now. All my life I have been in awe of nature, frequently stopping to gaze at the sunsets and wondering at the beauty of the changing seasons. Now I have the absolute privilege to be present in that nature always. Even in the caravan the birds are meters away, we hear owls every night and are frequented by a green woodpecker (he’s a beaut; I must try to get a photograph).

I know that the farm is not a natural setting, please don’t think me naive in this. However the biodiversity that exists in a space when you try to work with nature and not against it can only serve to improve the land, and the countryside around it. Farmers have worked in this way historically exploiting the natural benefits of their land to further their own work. This farm is a baby in real terms, it has only existing in its current format for just over three years, and is a trial in a different way of working. We don’t have the huge monocultures that many farmers have turned to in order to reap profit, we don’t use chemical pesticides and fertilisers to make life easier , we aren’t a part of a huge food market controlled by the supermarkets, the doors (fields) are open for anyone to visit and explore– we also aren’t currently turning a profit.

The ambition of the farm is that this should happen this year. This has caused significant concern for many people whom I care deeply about. It is not the most secure path I could be following, that I accept, but it is the most true path I feel I can possibly tread right now. In such a tumultuous period I have a genuine concern for the future of our food, and I believe that farming ecologically and sustainably is key in order to feed the world in the future. The damage that intensive farming is causing our earth is terrifying and just won’t cut it forever. This farm is not only teaching me the methods of organic growing, but it’s allowing me the time and space to consider what I believe in, and what I need to do to turn these beliefs into action. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have ambitions beyond my means, however I sincerely believe that you have to be the change, and this is the change I want to see.

Week Eight. Christmania

27th December 2011

This is my reason (or excuse) for being so late in posting these past few weeks. Christmas on the farm was a sight to behold. In the six years I’ve worked full time there has always been a period of ‘cooldown’ in the run up to the holidays, with so many people away and parties galore I’ve known the luxury of a time to take stock and reorganise; not this year.

The week leading up to Christmas we were harvesting like maniacs, getting all of the produce ready for farm boxes, not to mention the shop, pub and cafe. The farm had a merry gobbling flock of Norfolk Black Turkeys which were slowly silenced in the final few weeks, and an army of people plucked and prepared them for many a happy Christmas dinner (sorry Mum). Last week these were all either delivered direct or collected from the farm which meant we interacted with many more customers than usual.

The final Friday before Christmas was the culmination of this mania and the efforts of all who work, intern and contribute to the farm. Though there were mildly stressful moments across the board I think that I can say that the unity made it a pleasant experience to go through (and come out of the other side of) together; which is a typical feeling of this farm, and goes back to the sense of community I wrote about a few weeks ago.

The customers of the farm are encouraged to feel a part of the place, and especially the members of the farm box scheme. The whole place is open for the public to walk around and we actively encourage members to come up for work days or just to visit and experience where their food is coming from. During the most hectic of afternoons one of our customers popped by the packing shed to see how we were getting on and brought some chocolate for the box packing team as a thank you and as sustenance to get us through.

We received overwhelmingly positive feedback in the days following, even though some of the last deliveries were a little past people’s bedtimes. To then go home armed with a fresh Church Farm turkey and be able to talk with my family about where it came from and how it was reared was the icing on the cake (received better by some than others). It felt really quite special to be a part of so many people’s Christmas dinners and I look forward wholeheartedly to continue in this tradition wherever I may find myself growing in the future. A belated happy Yuletide to one and all.

Week Seven. Country mouse or town mouse...

20 December 2011

Dearest London

It was happily refreshing to see you once again last week, with the perspective of travel and a change in life pace, I saw you with a renewed sense of wonder. You facilitate such stimulating beautiful conversation. The diverse experiences of your people feeds informed discussion and the nature of the thinkers you harbour allows for movement in beliefs and considered debates. If only you could facilitate a more practical approach to life within your walls we might see different kind of progress.

That’s not to say folk in the country are narrow minded but in my limited experience often seem to have made up their minds, and have a confidence in their innate convictions. Nor come to mention it, do I believe that everyone in the city has an open mind. I know I am fortunate to find my place among other liberal free thinking people. Perhaps if I stepped into the city on a weekday and tried to discuss new ways of farming I’d rethink. (Will I ever stop sitting on the wall?)

The immediate consideration this led me to is whether the countryside (and I’m talking specifics here) needs the city to prosper?  When it comes to food production and consumption, decisions affecting the way the food is produced or more particularly regulated often come from Whitehall, or even Europe. I’m not going to pretend to understand the intricacies of these relationships, though I hope to learn more (note to self – must speak to Lucy about DEFRA), but I can’t help thinking that it’s a dysfunctional way of going about things.  

Hertfordshire may not be typical countryside and London certainly isn’t a true representation of all urban conurbations, but they are the places I know and draw my debate from. Church Farm is not only a working farm but the home of Agrarian Renaissance. The conference in January will run alongside the Farming Conference in Oxford providing farmers who are interested in an alternative way forward with a forum for discussion. This was a huge part of my motivation for coming here above other places, and I believe it sparks an interest with most of the interns here. In part Tim is ‘training’ a future generation of farmers.  There are speakers and delegates here who have the nous and intellect to be able to shape agricultural policy, the problem then comes when there is debate among the farming communities of this country.

Whether or not I am a country or a town mouse is still difficult to say. I have never felt healthier than I do right now, or perhaps more at peace with myself. Coming back into town did remind me what I was missing and I do so long for that constant questioning and debate , but I didn’t yearn to be back in that space. I can’t help dwelling on this missing link that provides a platform on which the city and country can stand on an even platform without either believing they have the upper hand. Perhaps all I have learnt from this consideration is that I need to learn more. I want to understand how famers interact with regulators and how the supermarkets have created a system where they have such control.  Also, I must remember to continue debate regardless of my location, there are plenty of people here who would be happy to join in and I resolve to visit more often.