Week Six - Vegetarian Horticulturalists

I never expected that this might be a contradiction in terms but in the past few weeks I have taken on a passive aggressive hatred towards slugs and mice, and in fact anything that eats the crops which we so lovingly sow.

At the moment slugs are our real problem. The polytunnels are filled with the most beautiful salads, picked daily for the pub and cafe, a real treat in farm boxes and lovingly shipped off to FARM:shop once a week. However, we are beginning to have difficulties now finding leaves which haven’t had little bites taken out of them. It’s not so much the foraging of the slugs that riles me, but the way they go about it. Rather than eating a whole leaf, or in fact plant, what our little critters chose to do is sample a bite from each leaf, moving on to the next as if it might satisfy them further, rendering our poor plants unsuitable for sale.

I know  some might say there is no harm in a salad with a few holes in (and I have a tendency to agree), but believe me, many of our customers would not see it that way; once a leaf is damage it’s fit for nobody but the slugs (or perhaps the interns). In order to counter this damage we are using all sorts of devices, traps and distractions. We have plants surrounded in ground coffee, broken egg shells and the latest, sunken dishes of beer dregs, saved from the bottom of kegs and drip trays at The Jolly Waggoner. The unwitting slugs crawl in seeking the good stuff and are drown, an inebriatingly horrible death. 

Each week when we change the trays I squeal in delight at the number of bodies lying in the waters, and worse still, whilst I’m picking in the mornings I drop every little beasty I find straight into the trap. Quite suddenly I have become a serial slug killer. The delight I take is in the protection of the salad rather than the death of the slugs but it has begun caused me concern. We are all organic growers here so there are no nasty chemicals keeping the critters at bay, consequently we can have no cause for complaint. We’ve created the perfect environment for the slugs, and they are just going about the business of survival – Lucy has taken it upon herself to learn the language of the slug in order to request politely that they eat only the plants designated to them and leave the rest behind.

How is it that we can be so discerning with our own meat consumption, let take no mercy with these little fellows? I guess that I will continue to muddle this one through in my own head.  I know that it isn’t only me who feels this way, many of my colleagues are also veggie, and even those that aren’t  feely the quandary of the slugs... Let’s hope we can find the magic solution (perhaps copper wire or wood ash?) and very soon – I’ll let you know when we’ve got it sussed.

Week five - Living in a 'community'

In discussing my impending change of lifestyle with friends, family and colleagues the word ‘commune’ was muted on more than one occasion, and more often than not with negative connotations. So much so, in fact, that I began to make a joke of it myself.

Playing and singing down the pub on a Saturday night

The word commune by definition indicates a group of people living together and sharing possessions and responsibilities. By which, I suppose it could be argued that this is in fact a commune. Though we do all have our own private spaces in our caravans there is a very strong sense of togetherness. We all work for the farm, and therefore to some extent subscribe to similar values, we cook for one another, and eat together, spend our days working in groups, and socialise together. As far as I can ascertain people’s negative views on communes stem from the belief that with the sharing comes promiscuity (on the most part that’s not the case here) and the idea that you lose individualism in group consensus.

It is in fact a wonderfully comforting and secure set up; though I can’t deny the drawbacks, the closer we are, the more likely frictions are and it can sometimes be hard to find space. This week it was demonstrated very plainly to me how wonderful it can be. I took an unfortunate and quite ridiculous fall last week and managed to damage the ligaments in my foot. In the time between the compassion shown to me has been almost overwhelming. Not only the farm but the wider community here have been so kind and reassuring, taking me to hospital, helping with my laundry, buying me chocolates, generally enquiring regularly after my wellbeing and understanding when I can’t perform to par in daily activities. 

You could argue that this would have happened in many other situations, certainly in the past I have found a similar sense of unity and caring. University is the most striking example I can recall and to a lesser extent some work places which have caught a spirit in me and I have therefore committed myself to. Sharing house I’ve always felt a sense of unity (especially in London) but the intensity of the combination on the farm and the slight removal from the world beyond creates something different,

As far as individualism goes, I do not feel restricted in airing my views and opinions, and at present we are certainly a varied bunch. The huge benefits of living in this way from my perspective are the sharing of skills and knowledge. It is still surprising me daily the talents and experiences that people have, and collectively this makes us capable of achieving so much – if only we had more time! But our varied talents work together on a daily basis to keep the farm going, which is exactly the way in which I would like to sustain a lifestyle in the future.  I know even as I write this that among friends will be those who still doubt my choice and for those, these words will confirm that I am separating myself from the mainstream. However that certainly is not my intention, nor is it that of anybody I have spoken to whilst living here. 

The beauty (and of course occasional tension) of living in a close community is a symptom of the fact we’ve had to give up paid employment to have a go at this. The bottom line is that we believe in the importance of what this place is aiming to achieve. A better way of farming, a more sustainable and dependable food system for us all, eating well, living well and giving consideration to the land which supports us all.

It’s becoming quite obvious from my failure to reach any conclusion that the jury is still out on communal living for me :) Five weeks in, it is still a pleasure but I will confess there have been trying moments and I can see how it might be tough in the future. I know that making time for myself will be an essential part of maintaining sanity, but with one day off a week, so many people to see and things to do it is going to be difficult. Perhaps ask me again in 6 months time...