Our final pick up of the season!
Sitting down to write this, it's really hard to figure out how to summarize our entire season and wrap it up in a short newsletter.
So much has happened since we started our first seeds in the beginning of March - so much on the farm, in our own lives, and in the broader world.
In February we built and redesigned, moved earth and compost, ordered seeds and supplies. Prepared.
In March we planted the first of our tiny seeds in the greenhouse, putting all our hopes and dreams for the season out to meet their fate.
In April, we worried about the pandemic. In a profession full of things to worry about that are beyond our control, this was something we had never imagined we would worry about. But our community came through - YOU came through. We were really blown away by the interest and support we received, and we moved forward into uncertain times with more confidence.
In May, Sarah, Jason, and Jordan - our fabulous farm crew - joined us and we started planting our seedlings into the soil. We were hit by a late frost which had us scrambling to cover up our plant babies and buying another wood stove on the fly to keep our tomatoes in the unheated hoophouse safe. We had a plant sale and sent many happy seedlings home with people eager to start their own gardens - some for the first time!
In June, harvest began in earnest. We had beautiful lettuce and greens, and our earliest cucumbers, zucchinis, and tomatoes to date. We battled with voles and slugs. We got to see our members, and after a long spring of isolation it felt good to be making human contact again, and with such lovely humans too. The weather got hotter and it stayed there.
In July, we harvested, and seeded in the greenhouse, and composted and broadforked beds to ready them for planting, and transplanted seedlings into the ground, and went to market, and weeded when we had a chance -- this on repeat. Garlic came out of the ground, and onions. We determined to plant many more next season.
In August, we marveled over our melon harvest and watched powerless as our salad greens went to seed in the field, unable to take the heat. We languished in the sun along with the cicadas. We said goodbye to our zucchinis and cucumbers. Mourned the rotting carrots. We pushed to get our final plantings in the ground.
In September, we felt the weather change. As the natural world around us began to stir again, so did we. We prepared for a baby that wouldn't end up coming in September after all. We picked beans - so many, many beans. We finally had carrots, after so long, and we finally got to enjoy the peppers in our greenhouse. We harvested our winter squash and potatoes and again we learned that we need to plant more, more, more! Not the worst problem to have. The goldenrod and asters bloomed and, one day, they were gone.
In October, we felt our tired bones, but also the energy brought from cool weather and shorter days. At long last, we welcomed baby girl Lark into our family. It was so joyful to meet this little life who had been growing along with us since January.
And that takes us to today, where I am writing this newsletter on our final Farm Share of the 2020 season. Thanks for being on this journey with us, and sharing in both the abundances and losses of our season. Thanks for all the encouragement and kind words. Thanks for sharing the journey of our newest family member, Lark, all the way up to her arrival. Thank you for supporting local, small-scale, regenerative agriculture.
We're looking forward to a winter of rest, but also to a winter full of what we love to do best - dreaming and scheming. We know this is the right life for us because we are already looking forward to what we can do next season.
"Farming is a profession of hope." - Brian Brett
Wishing you and your families a warm, cozy, and safe winter. We look forward to seeing you again soon.
Your farmers,
Kim and Alex,
Rosemary and Lark.