Localvores, Organicos and Makin' a Livin'

There's an old adage that it takes a business about five years to make a profit. That old adage has been haunting me a lot of late because this is our farm's fifth year of business and profits don't seem yet within reach. I need a tractor, need to hire help, need an egg washer, need to pay for construction of the "clean room" that will be started this very day and that is estimated to set me back to the tune of a couple thousand dollars.

As I consider the start-up money taken in from our members this spring--around $13,000 this year--I think too about where that money's gone in five months. We bought veggie and flower seed, a few small trees, paid the power bill, bought 70 new ducklings, secured registration for workshops on legal liability, food handling safety (hence, the clean room construction), paid the monthly mortgage, kept the health insurance lights on, made sure the vehicle insurance is in good standing, made repairs on all sorts of winter-worn farm stuff, got myself some stylin' new Carhartt shorts, and stocked the farm stand with plants I grew and food I didn't because food's been growing slower than normal this winter-spring.

We had our "soft" opening just this past weekend at the farm stand, worked through a few kinks, met some real nice folks, and sold a good number of plants, greens, herbs, asparagus, jellies, Sconies, duck eggs and more. We had a lot of fun most of all, and as I counted the receipts, I was pleased to see we'd made enough to put together a new coop for our third flock, our research flock, the ones who will tell us how effective are ducks at increasing soil fertility, managing weeds and pests, and laying eggs under au natural conditions--no lights except what the sunshine brings. I'm excited about that project, but I already know one outcome of all that studying: selling 80 dozen duck eggs a week and trying to absorb feed costs that have doubled in the last year alone are more likely to break a farmer than make her. That said, I need to get this blog posted quickly because I have ducks to go feed and water in just a few minutes . . .

But before the morning's chores begin, it's important to note that like an awful lot of small acreage farmers, I spend a lot of time looking at bills, bottom lines, projected costs, obligations and where it might be possible to tuck in, scale down and draw the blinds to save a few dollars here and there. As we enter our fifth year as a farm and as a business, I have had to stew over some tough decisions, decisions I'm not fully comfortable with at all times, and will write about more in my next post.

All those worries aside, what makes me smile today is that my niece and her boyfriend are asleep downstairs, visiting for the first leg of a little post-semester vacation before Will begins a summer internship on an organic farm in Chelan, WA., and Erin starts summer work for Washington State University, where she'll learn more about orchards and integrated pest management, her major at university. Will grew up in the Washington orchards and has thoughts of taking some of the acreage of those trees into organic production. Erin is interested in bugs and the good work they can do for farmers. She wants to help farmers like me better understand the relationship we need to cultivate with those bugs to make us better at what we do.

It makes me happy to think of them and the qualities they embody and embrace: courage, thoughtfulness, hard-work, ethical eating and living, strength and generosity. I have already learned a lot from them both and look forward to all they can keep teaching me.
It thrills me that as I age, young people, my own niece, will keep on fighting the good fight, in a battle of her choosing with her own arms. But the thought that I need to make a living at this small acreage farm venture nags, knowing that this farm must thrive if this farm is to put to work all the good lessons Erin and Will have to teach us. And I think we can thrive, but not based on the business model that has sustained my soul, sustained the bellies of my community of eaters for four summers, improved and sustained our land, but not my wallet. This is the year, the fifth year, and this is the year in which we will make it or not, and don't think for a moment that thought isn't there looming most moments of most days these days.

But here's the deal right this moment, the ducks need to be let out now and need to eat and want to swim and drink.

And I need one more cup of coffee for the road ahead today.

More on money later, it's going to be 80 degrees today and seeds need planting and weeds need yanking.