How To Rock Your Farmers' Market

With summer just around the corner, farmers around the country are busy getting their solanaceous crops in the ground and beginning to harvest for CSAs and farmers’ markets. The third week of CSA deliveries was a success here at Two Bear Farm! Our members received radishes, turnips, green onions, kale, cilantro, mustard greens, bok choi, spinach, and salad mix in their boxes – green green green! The fruits of our hard spring labor are paying off before our eyes ands it’s beyond wonderful to see looks of excitement and gratitude in our customers’ faces!

We have pick-up times almost every day of the week, so we harvest most mornings and pack CSA boxes as lunchtime rolls around. It is truly amazing to think that the radishes I harvest at 8 o’clock this morning could be in someone’s dinner salad by 7 o’clock tonight. That’s some seriously local food! On Fridays, we have a pick-up at the farm along with a social hour. In an effort to continue creating community between the people of the Flathead Valley and our farm, we invite people to take a tour of the beautiful property and brand-new facilities. For the past two weeks, the farmers and I have created small appetizer dishes to share during social hour. We hope the new recipes will inspire our members to get creative in the kitchen with kale pesto and bok choi-turnip salsa! So many of us are strangers to the culinary arts – it can be incredibly valuable to trade your favorite recipes with friends in exchange for their inspired concoctions.

This past week, we planted eggplants, peppers, tomatoes, and sweet corn – and squash will go in next week! The cold and unpredictable Montana nights force planting plans to be flexible, honing skills of stress-management, out-of-the-box thinking, and adaptability. The rush to get plants in the ground, coupled with expectant CSA and farmers’ market customers, can make any farmer question their sanity. However, for me, the intimate exchange of food from one hand to another makes all doubt fizzle away and all questioning vanish.

At a farmers’ market, this exchange is high-speed and high-energy, tailored to the needs of each individual. For someone on the producing side of the table at a market stand, these dozens of exchanges create a lot of endorphins along with daunting amounts of physical and emotional exhaustion. Smiling at, greeting, helping, and listening to customers – all while remembering the prices of each item and adding them all up in your head – is extremely fun, but can turn sour if the customer isn’t understanding of your hyper-active, highly-volatile state of being. So: a guide to being the best farmers’ market customer ever! (To be read in a saucy and incredibly humorous voice)

1.     There is a line. And no, I can’t hold that while you discipline your dog who is eating arugula off the table.

Please visit with your friends, laugh at my vegetable jokes, and tell me about your vacation. But please be aware that other people are trying to buy my delicious food, too. I know you learned about forming a line in kindergarten, so please don’t insult your elementary school teachers and wait your turn. The market is a place to build community and support the local economy – not a place to cut your way to the last bunch of kale and make everyone behind you wait as you destroy my display searching for the perfect bag of spinach.

I love your children and your dog. Your kids are being exposed to the oldest form of economy and learning about the people that grown their food – amazing! They also pick their noses and play with worms, so it stresses me out when their hands are touching each basket of strawberries to find the perfect one. I think your dog is beautiful – but dog slobber is not a desirable dressing for salad – so keep that leash tight!

2.     Which kind of kale is best for juicing? Also, will you have sweet corn next week?

Please eat my kale like its food. Kale comes in so many varieties, each with a unique pallet and texture. Before you juice anything, learn about it as a solid food and embrace the fiber. Also, I’m excited you’re learning about vegetables through healthy food fads, but I hope you come back for kale when its not hip anymore.

It’s heartbreaking that we’re so out of touch with seasonality. My self included, we expect all things to be ready at all times of the year (thank you, supermarket culture!) but I have news – corn will not be ready in June! Snap peas will probably not be around in September! You will be eating winter squash and potatoes on Christmas! Please ask me what is available throughout the seasons and be open to eating seasonally, but please don’t assume I’ll be as stocked as the Safeway. What you see in front of you is what we have growing – I am not hiding anything in the back and I don’t know what will be ready next week because it is still trying to grow amongst the intense pest pressure and dramatic weather swings

3.     Is this certified organic?

Try again. And don’t walk away if the first word out of my mouth is “no.” If you’re truly interested in how we grow food, you will be pleased by what I have to say. If you’re looking for a USDA seal, you might have better luck at Whole Foods. (I started writing an entire blog post about this very term, ‘organic,’ but it got too long – so I’ll try to keep this brief.) A lot of organic farms are certified organic. Reasons for this: the same rules apply to everyone – accountability; farms can receive higher revenue for wholesale products; I don’t have to spend five minutes explaining to you our farming methods because you are simply looking for a label. There are a lot of farms using organic methods that are not certified organic. Reasons for this: it is expensive; some farmers don’t believe USDA regulations are strict enough; some farms are in a transition stage and are not yet qualified. Two Bear Farm falls into this last category. Since we are on our current land for the first year and it was not used to grow organic vegetable previously, we are not yet qualified to receive a certification. After three years, Two Bear Farm will be allowed and ready to apply for the label.

Meticulous records and strict practices must be kept to be eligible for certification – for some, this is doable and deemed necessary; but for others, this is too big a burden and not a priority. If you want to know about your food, ask how it’s grown. Food at Two Bear Farm is grown without pesticides, herbicides, fungicides, or genetically modified organisms (GMOs); and with great consideration for the soil, ecosystem, and nutrient content of each vegetable. So, no, we’re not certified, but yes, we do use organic practices and would love for you to come out to the farm to see for yourself!

4.     How much for this? – - OMG I can get that for half the price at the store!

Then why are you here? It’s true, organic produce is more expensive. Ahh! How will I ever eat healthy??? Some facts according to the USDA: In 1930, Americans spent about 24% of their disposable income on food. In 2009, Americans spent about 9.5% on food. This seems self-explanatory to me – our priorities have changed and we do not value food like we used to. In my opinion, eating is the most habitual and life-sustaining thing you do. So it goes without saying that eating should be of the utmost importance and the food we eat should be of the highest quality. 

Other facts from the Environmental Working Group: from 1995 to 2012, corn subsidies (the government paying farmers to grow corn at a globally competitive price) totaled $84.4 billion in the United States! Whoa! That means that anything with corn in it – most packaged things in the supermarket – is being sold at a false price. Organic practices are not subsidized. Additionally, organic produce requires more labor and more expensive products (i.e. organic fertilizer vs. non-organic fertilizer) to grow.

As we know, money is the silent hand behind each political and personal decision in our world today. Our farmer likes to say, “You vote with your wallet.” If you don’t feel like your ballot vote counts for anything – trust that your dollar does. When you buy packaged, processed, conventionally grown food, you are voting for subsidized practices, ecological disruption, pollution, underpaid labor, under-regulated and unsafe chemicals, genetic modification, non-seasonal expectations, and misleading advertising. When you buy locally grown, organic food, you are voting for a strengthened local economy, environmental responsibility, hard-working and fairly paid labor, safe food, life-long health, and industry-wide integrity. Don’t get me started on food equity and Big Ag corruption – that will be a later blog post. But I will say this – not everyone has the means or wherewithal to buy local, organic food. If you do have the means, it seems to me that it is your responsibility to do so, so that one day everyone may have the opportunity to purchase such things.

Simply put, the food you buy at a farmers’ market is worth every penny. If you are looking for cheap food (financially and qualitatively), you won’t find it here. But you will find health, community, accountable and personable farmers, nutrient density, beauty, vitality, strength, and a booming local movement!

Now go rock your farmers’ market! Brings some friends and learn about your food!

The Farm Body

Farming, while manipulative, is one of the most intimate ways to interact with Mother Nature. When you dig your hands into damp soil, situate a young plant neatly in the fresh divot, nurture the plant with food and water – giving it adequate space and limiting its competition – and then harvest a leaf or a fruit or a root to nourish your own body, there is an oddly spiritual and cyclical connection between your body and Earth. Using organic practices, you are taking care of your Mother and she is taking care of you. A timeless relationship exists that each being – human or otherwise – can take part in and become more in-tune with the intricacies of our home.

Over the course of seasons, your body reflects the state of the farm’s body. Your body will reflect the foods available as well as the activity in the layers of soil. Your energy will mimic the intensity of the work to be done. Your skin will change to match the weathering of the ground, the crops. You will be as enthusiastic as the sun and as tired as the moon. The times you need the most energy, the Mother will provide you with the most food – the times you need to recover, the Mother will go to rest and remain fallow until you are ready to work again.

Spring: The time to prepare.

It was a long winter, as you’ll remember from an earlier blog post. My body was heavy and full of thickness – stagnant. Now that I’m a month into my new apprenticeship, I can feel the thickness moving out. The workload is constantly ramping up each week, the days are becoming longer, and more plants are in the ground at the end of each day. I’m discovering new muscles and the creases in my hands are becoming stained with dirt. The snow melted about a month ago and the soil is becoming more active with every hour; the bugs are awakening from dormancy and the weeds are finding enough sunlight to keep up with the newly planted greens. To reflect this awaking, my body is finding fresh energy each morning. I fall asleep by 10pm each night, exhausted, but wake up rested and eager to work – eager to keep up with the compounding activity on the farm.

To help push out the thickness, Mother Nature will provide greens now, in the early spring. In a week or two, we will have crisp and leafy spinach, salad mix, and radishes ready to be eaten. Strawberries, scallions, and baby Bok Choi will hydrate my body and flush winter’s toxins away. My joints will loosen, my muscles will become lean, and my skin will prepare for summer’s heat.

Summer: The time to work.

Summer is the height of the season. A farmer’s job is to try her best to keep up with the endless list of tasks and surprises. The days will be long, the pests will be ruthless – but the food will be abundant and progressively more energetic. The soil will be a monstrous organism operating at full capacity. Crops and weeds will grow at astonishing rates during the heat of the day and the demand for water will be at an all-time high. My body will reflect this: with the thickness of winter gone, my muscles will have room to grow, strengthened by the long days of labor and the densely nutritious food coming from the ground; my skin will be callused in all the right places and tanned to protect that which the sunscreen can’t; my energy will be as hot as the sun during the day, as dependent on water as the plants, and as quiet as the birds at night.

To keep up with the physical demands of summer on a farm, Mother Nature will not disappoint. Summer squash, broccoli, cauliflower, tomatoes, peppers and eggplants, collards, carrots, cabbage, garlic, sweet onions, melons and peaches, and all the greens of spring will be fresh and rapidly available. These foods are dense, full of an array of nutrients, and cook-able in countless ways. The copious proteins and fibers will be the building blocks for my tightening muscles and the fuel for my constantly moving body.

Autumn: The time to celebrate.

While autumn will continue to be busy, the farm will be a well-oiled machine – all bodies will be working in harmony and the soil will be striding after the long haul of summer. The morning will feel slower and the nights will require a heavier jacket. Hardly anything new will be planted and the promises of root vegetables will be realized. All the vegetables of summer will still be available and it is time to celebrate the work of the farmer and her Mother. My body will have more time to rest in the evenings and more food than it could ever consume. The necessity to share and commune with friends and family will become obvious – and there will be time to do so!

My blood will be thick with nutrients and my muscles will welcome the celebratory cushion of fat as it prepares for winter. My skin will shed the heat and hardness of summer as I spend more time inside baking winter squash and beets, roasting corn and shallots, steaming green beans, turnips, and celery root. The remnants of fresh greens will be on the table alongside the root vegetables meant to last through the winter – a true cornucopia. My body will be busy canning and preserving the final fruits of summer so that winter will be more bearable. My body will be stocking up, inviting the thickness of winter to return, preparing for rest and recovery.

Winter: The time to rest.

The cold will creep in and the days will be short. The snow will fall upon the fields and everything will go to sleep. Some kale may survive the brisk nights, but like the body, it will not grow with much energy. My skin will pale and my body will be much more still than the previous months. While the thickness is irritating in the context of my personal body image, it is healing. It will cloak my tendons and joints, soften my muscles, and weigh down my eyelids. It will repair that which needs repairing and remind me that rest is vital to a successful future – like the farm, where rested soil is healthy soil; amended soil is energetic and ready to give life.

Mother Nature provides the densest and fattiest foods for this time of the cycle. Potatoes and squash, storage onions and cabbage, kale, garlic, and nuts – these are the foods with all the energy of summer and autumn wrapped in protective layers to nourish the body through the long nights. These foods will keep the cold from penetrating my bones and will force me to be still. With such a limited food supply, winter will be mentally challenging. Winter will be a time for contemplation and reflection on the abundance of the previous year – it will be a time to make resolutions, detail plans, and gather strength for the coming spring.

My partner, Brian, always says that he truly appreciates the farm body because it is as strong as it needs to be. The farm body is never more than is necessary – to keep a farmer humble and honest – and is never lacking in necessity – to keep a farmer motivated and sustainable. I love my farm body. I love the way it reflects my Mother Nature and directly connects me with the nutrients I put in it. This beautiful, mutually beneficial relationship will last a lifetime and will teach me to love my body, love the Earth, and pay great attention to the never-changing cycle of seasons.

Respecting the Trade

I saw a meme on Facebook the other day that said something like, “When you walk past a construction site and tell your child ‘that’s why you go to college,’ you are not teaching her to value education but rather to devalue the trade worker.” This struck me as a fresh perspective – and a brutally honest one. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard “that’s why you go to college” from various people in my life and I, like many people in my socio-economic bracket, have a built-in distain for physical labor and trade work. My self insults me!

The puzzling thing about this perspective is that, despite the social construct we all give into, the trade worker doesn’t inherently have less value. While I like to think that I have always had a high level of respect for tradesmen/women, the deep-rooted hierarchy is still present in my middle class psyche. Coming from a white-collar Suburbia, the blue-collar worker is looked down upon as not having the mental capacity to acquire a higher-paying, less-strenuous job. The truth is, the tradesman/woman probably has more real life skills to sustain him/her through a lifetime and the (highly educated) white-collar worker needs the tradesman to function from day to day – when the opposite might not be true. I realize I’m simplifying the situation (as many white-collar workers, such as my father, are also handy with basic tools, etc.), but I think the reality check is necessary.

This week was my first week working on the new farm in Montana. While I endured my first venture into construction, my fellow apprentices and I had a conversation where we asked ourselves what kind of real skills we have if we suddenly needed to be self-sufficient (i.e. zombie apocalypse or total economic crash). The answers were scary. I CAN: write a decent essay, sing fairly well, run for about 30 minutes before I need a break, operate both a PC and Mac, read news articles, change the oil in my car, make a phone call…you get the picture. I CANNOT: build a weather-resistant structure, do anything under the hood of my car (besides change the oil), operate most tools, complete an electrical circuit, hunt my own food, etc. I rely on other highly-skilled people to do all the things I cannot do for myself – people who are generally seen as less education, and therefore less valuable.

For our farm apprenticeship we were asked to read Joel Salatin’s new book, Fields of Farmers: Interning, Mentoring, Partnering, Germinating. Salatin is a well-known farmer in North Carolina and model for all current and aspiring farmers. The book is about the intern/apprentice-mentor relationship. He begins the book by detailing the importance of trade work and the vital role both apprentices and mentors play in keeping trades alive and skilled. While his view on education is bit more drastic than mine, he points out the absurdity of modern liberal arts education where we sit in class rooms and discuss philosophical writings, debate social constructs, and recite countless facts – but we don’t learn anything “real.” We don’t learn how to reconstruct a burst pipe or fix a blown car radiator or slaughter a rabbit. Salatin argues that true education and learning happens with practical, hands-on activities where the connection between knowledge and skill can be cultivated. For example, he cites a child learning fractions and geometry by helping to build a tool shed. This is valuable education and should be treated about as such – the child who chooses to assume an apprenticeship or go to trade school should be valued and encouraged in the same way as the child who chooses to attend a traditional college.

To put this all in perspective, as I mentioned above, I spent my first week on the farm helping to build a high tunnel. A high tunnel is like a green house that is built over bare ground so crops can be planted directly into the ground while being covered and heated. While it’s not a completely permanent structure, a high tunnel requires basic construction skills and lots of power tools. My very brief encounters tearing down musical sets in high school and college proved useful only in the correct handling of an electric drill. We were cutting metal tubing (bending and breaking metal grinders), using self-tapping screws (thanks a bunch to whoever invented those little devils!), measuring (and re-measuring), leveling (and re-correcting), improvising (and making mistakes), and learning more than I ever could have imagined. To my classical education’s credit, my well-tuned creative problem-solving skills were put to the test when we accidentally cut four pieces of metal tubing too short and had to recalculate the measurements for the rest of the end wall.

All in all, we finished the high tunnel Saturday morning when the weather was nice enough to pull plastic over the entire frame. I felt a sense of accomplishment alongside my fellow apprentices and mentoring farmers as the plastic was fastened into place and I was overwhelmed by the amount of knowledge I had accumulated over the previous four days. Two funny things struck me at the same time. One, our mentoring farmers had already built another high tunnel and the first two-thirds of the one we finished – by themselves. Second, a hired construction crew was (and still is) building a much more permanent structure on the property. As we, the new apprentices, struggled to finish an end wall of a simple high tunnel, a crew of true tradesmen were pouring concrete, structuring the plumbing and electrical networks, and completing a whole list of tasks that I can’t begin to name. What skill! What knowledge! What practice and mastery! These are people who are walked past every day and pointed to as “reasons to go to college.”

One of our mentoring farmers is a former accountant and wildlife biologist and also has a wealth of practical knowledge (in construction and electrical work, mechanical work, etc.). I asked him how he learned all these things and he responded by telling me that it is a slow accumulation over time – gradually gaining familiarity with certain tools and tricks. He also said the difference between a mentor and an apprentice is the level of proficiency (my lack of proficiency this past week made me feel like a child learning to ride a bike). The more you do one thing with an open mind to learning, the better you become at it until you are a master. The crazy thing about farming is that to save on costs, one has to be a proficient utility “tradesmaster” – generally skilled at a variety of trades. While I believe my education makes me a more effective worker and has given me the ability to learn things quickly, the countless things yet to learn astounds me – skills and bits of knowledge that I cannot even dream. If I am hindered by the belief that these skills are below me as an educated person, I can never become more sufficient (or proficient) and would be the first to go in a zombie apocalypse!

After just four days in a world foreign to me, I am humbled by the prospect of one day becoming a utility tradeswoman. There are so many skills to acquire that will take time and patience; they are all necessary in becoming a successful and self-sufficient farmer and I look forward to learning them as I venture forward in this vast trade. I hope to greet every situation with an open mind and a spirit that recognizes the wealth of knowledge behind the hands and minds of every plumber, electrician, farmer, carpenter, mechanic, and so on. As Joel Salatin writes, no job is inherently less valuable than another because all rely on each other to complete the task at hand. 

The Albany Era

A scenario: you are an aspiring farmer and you just finished your first “growing season” as an apprentice. You have a second apprenticeship set up for the next grow season in a different state. You have a romantic partner who you met on the first farm and will also be an apprentice with you on the second farm. You traveled with this partner across the country on a road trip after the first apprenticeship ended and you spent a month apart from this partner during the holiday season. There are still three months before your next apprenticeship begins and you decide to move across the country (to Albany, NY, to be exact) for that time in order to find a temporary job and be with your partner who is having sinus surgery while you are there. Plot twist: you have sent out over 60 resumes and applications – via company websites, job hunting websites, temp agencies, in-person visits, and Craigslist. You work hard to find a job for weeks. You hear back from no one. No. One. You’re living in an unfamiliar place with few acquaintances and a new foot of snow falls every week. You’re feeling defeated and anxious for your next apprenticeship to begin – but it’s still two months away and you can’t spend the next two months on “vacation” because you’re a little tight on funds, you’re going stir crazy, and it’s never above 20°F.

What do you do?

My answer to this question took a while to form in the midst of mounting pressure to find a job and looming feelings of worthlessness and fear of the unknown. A job was important to me, yes, but sanity was also a priority. Brian, my partner, while also interested in finding employment, was scheduled to have surgery in February and knew a job was probably not on the horizon for him. So, he began to look in other directions for purpose and fulfillment – and if nothing else, to occupy time. After about a month of defeat, we decided that the job hunt should take a back seat while we looked for places to volunteer and/or get involved. We wanted to keep our eyes on farming – discussing things we wouldn’t have time for once we started our apprenticeship. With support and encouragement from the “adults” around us, we made a list of people we wanted to talk to, organizations we wanted to learn about, books we wanted to read, and places we wanted to visit. As I mentioned in a previous blog post, most people don’t have the time or means to really figure out what they’re passionate about. Well in Brian and my case, we had a gift of three months to sink our teeth into what we are passionate about – to really explore and discuss different paths of food distribution and social justice. It was said to us that we would never get a time like this in our lives again – so we decided to make the most of it!

I’ll admit the prospect of learning-intensive activity for a few months sounded a bit more charming and romantic than it ended up being. But nonetheless, Brian and I have accomplished and learned a great deal while we resided in upstate New York.

At home, Brian and I talked about and wrote up our ideal farm plan. It didn’t include numbers and dollar signs; rather, it included our values and philosophies, ideal location and size, ideal crop and animal ratio, infrastructure, events (like public picnics and sponsored concerts), side projects and goals, and potential farm names – just for fun. We’ve had umpteen conversations about how to reduce wasted food throughout the farm-to-market process and how to make good food accessible to everyone. We’ve been reading books by Michael Pollan, Joel Salatin, and Elliot Coleman. Additionally, we’re reading on marketing strategies at farmers markets, different farming techniques, and how best to create change in one’s community.

Brian and I have attended some pretty awesome northeast events and have visited some unique farms. First, we traveled to Vermont in January for a weekend of exploration and to spend time with Brian’s family. The Central Vermont Food Systems Council was hosting their winter forum in Montpelier on the Thursday we drove up and Brian had seen a flyer that it was open to the public. After walking around the quaint capital, we found our way to the forum where a speaker from the Vermont Center for Integrative Herbalism gave a presentation about the use of medicinal herbs as food – to be ingested regularly and with intention. Growing up in Suburbia where Ibuprofen and Benadryl are cure-alls, the presentation was intriguing and challenging. I was challenged because I grew up learning that Western medicine is infallible and herbs are dangerous because they come from the “wild.” However, I was intrigued enough to do more research and have since become fond of the herbalist philosophies – reasoning that most herbs are extremely safe and come from a natural source; whereas most Western medicine is artificially manufactured by the hands of monetary interest and skewed research. Maybe I’ll write a blog post on this later – but for now, let me say I am deeply interested in the power of medicinal herbs…and let’s continue with the Vermont trip.

On Friday, Brian and I toured two farms in the Burlington area. First, we visited Bread and Butter Farms. It was January – so there wasn’t going to be a lot of farm activity happening, but after two and a half months of being away from the dirt, we were anxious to see some barns and tractors. Bread and Butter has a farm store that operates on an honor system. We were hoping to talk to someone but there was no such luck. We stuck our nose in the store full of root vegetables and homemade bread and then were on our way to the Intervale.

In Burlington, the Intervale means three different things. First, the word “intervale” is a term used in the northeast for rich, fertile soil (usually in a floodplain) along a river or stream. In such an intervale outside Burlington, the Intervale Center exists. The Intervale Center is a farm incubator, of sorts, that provides for and encourages young farmers by giving them access to reduced-cost land, tractors and infrastructure, and connected community members who may become customers. The idea behind the Intervale Center is to promote communal values among young farmers who may not have the funds or access to land to start a farm on their own. After a few years in the intervale, young farmers are expected to have enough knowledge and funds to move on in their farming pursuits. Other farm incubators exist around the country and can be a great way for young farmers to develop and act on a business plan without the enormous risk of financially failing in the first year (a risk that keeps many farmers out of the game). The Intervale Center also runs other programs that aim to develop the northern Vermont food system and steward the land of the greater intervale. Check them out at www.intervale.org.

The third use of the word “intervale” refers to the Intervale Community Farm. One of the larger farms in the Burlington intervale (not directly associated with the Intervale Center), the Community Farm shares barn space, cooler spaces, washing space, and tractor implements with other farms in the area. The Community Farm serves 500 households in the Burlington area through their CSA* program. Brian and I had the chance to meet with one of the farmers and she took us on a tour through their facilities and explained all the different variations of “intervale.”  

*What is a CSA program? Most small farms operate a CSA program, which stands for Community Supported Agriculture. Before the growing season starts, members of the community will sign up to become part of the program by buying a “share.” This share (usually between $400 and $800) guarantees about 20 weeks of produce throughout the summer and fall – enough to feed an average-sized family. As a member, one is supporting the local economy, investing in the farm’s wellbeing, and committing to eat seasonally and sustainably. If you’re interested, I’m sure there is a CSA program in your area (findable by a Google search)!

 While in Burlington, Brian and I also visited the local farmers market. This was an abundant market with dozens of vendors – even in the dead of winter. It was encouraging to see the bustling community, but we learned from talking with one of the farmers that the area is saturated with organic farms, resulting in plummeted prices and low profits for all farms involved.

A week after our Vermont trip, we attended the Northeast Organic Farmers Association Winter Conference (New York chapter) in Saratoga Springs. I’ll spare you all the details, but all in all it was an incredible experience where we encountered hundreds of organic farmers (old and young) from New York and were exposed to countless new resources. Like any conference, there were “breakout” sessions with different topics. Brian and I attended sessions on composting, utilizing greenhouse space, cover cropping, accessing farm insurance, small-scale dairy production, and growing potatoes. There was also a tradeshow in the main hall where seed companies, bookstores, farmers’ coalitions, farm incubators, and toolmakers had set up booths. Needless to say, we left with tons of pamphlets, knowledge, and new friends!

Back in Albany, we found a few organizations to become involved in during the weekdays to occupy the stifling unemployed time. These all ended up being extremely fulfilling and enriching experiences! First, Brian and I volunteered for a non-profit called Capital District Community Gardens (CDCG) on their “Veggie Mobile.” Twice a week, we would arrive at the org’s headquarters and sort through vegetables, organize new shipments, and load the Veggie Mobile. At 11:00am, we’d hop in the moving-van-style ‘mobile and ride along to our first stop.

The idea behind the Veggie Mobile is to bring produce into “food deserts” – or areas that don’t have close access to fresh produce. Food deserts exist in most cities around the country and are usually defined as places where fresh produce is out of walking distance and most residents of the area do not have an easy way to access the nearest market or grocery store (i.e. a car, reliable public transportation). Most of the time, these are low-income neighborhoods, neighborhoods with limited-mobility populations (senior housing facilities), or rural areas.

At each stop, we would hop out of the cab, open the doors, set up a food sampling station outside, and welcome customers. We would be at each stop for about an hour and serve dozens of residents – selling produce at wholesale price. For the sake of space, I won’t delve into some of the challenges Brian and I ran into, morally, with the Veggie Mobile, but overall it was a great way to meet people, be around vegetables, and serve our community.

The second group we were involved with is called People of Albany United for Safe Energy (PAUSE). This is a very new group to the area and was created out of concern about multiple oil tankers (carrying crude oil from North Dakota) coming through Albany daily. Additionally, the group is concerned about an oil company building boilers at the Port of Albany in order to heat up oil before loading it onto ships and sending it down the Hudson River. Again, for the sake of space, I’ll spare all the details – but this is important stuff! These tankers are the same ones (with the same crude oil) that have been derailing and exploding all over the continent. This crude oil is very volatile, leaks into the air at toxic gas, and has the potential to be devastating for any city or town it passes through. For mort information, you can visit www.facebook.com/pausenergy.

With this group, Brian and I attended weekly meetings to plan for public forums discussing the boiler construction and tanker traffic in Albany. Our main objective was (and is) to make people aware of this issue and educate the public on real and potential risks of crude oil, tanker derailments, boiler construction, and oil transportation by land and water. We attended one of the public forums and were extremely impressed by the public’s rise to action, accompanied by local, county, and state elected officials. The issues are real and the conversation is now happening!

We also volunteered at the Troy Farmers Market with a group called Troy Compost (Troy is a town near Albany). This group sets up at the farmers market every week and collects peoples’ personal food scraps at no charge, and then takes the scraps to a local community garden to be made into compost. This is a great system that Brian and I have talked about implementing in any community we end up in.

Additionally, I did some work for the Delmar Farmers Market (another close-by town) by giving suggestions for website improvement and creating a volunteer packet and PowerPoint for future outreach.

We also visited a beef ranch/grain farm near Albany run by a family friend of Brian’s. Brian helped spread manure by tractor while I observed the cows and read through some of the qualifications and applications for organic certification by the Organic Farmers Association.

Overall, Albany was an educational experience that could have never been planned for – on a farming front, emotional front, and community front. I learned about “rolling with the punches” and taking charge of my personal reaction to unforeseen circumstances. I learned about some great organizations and community efforts existing in Albany and was involved in local politics in a way I have never been. I learned about the northeast farming landscape and the many resources available to me there (and everywhere). I learned about myself, my partner and his family, and my tolerance for cold weather (it is not very high); and I took advantage of an otherwise daunting situation. Brian and I are off to Montana as I post this blog entry and look forward to beginning a new farming adventure at Two Bear Farm in Whitefish starting April 1!