2015 Farmers' Market Schedule

He likes spinach. This is a good thing.

Happy springtime, everyone!

After a seemingly endless, cold, steel-gray and cloudy winter we are off to a start here on the farm. We are harvesting spring lettuces, spinach, kale, Swiss chard and will soon have radishes and onions. And more seeding and planting continues....

The Stanly County Farmers' Market started this last Saturday, April 11, 2015. The market will run every Saturday, 8am to 12pm, through October. In June, July, and August the market will be open on Wednesdays from 8am until 12pm as well. WIC is accepted at this market.

Then, on May 4th, the Stanly Commons Farmers' Market will open and operate every Monday from 9am to 1pm through October or November - I'm not sure they have an end date - sometimes it depends on what is available. As you can see by the graphic below, SNAP/EBT and WIC are accepted at this market.

See you at the farmers' market!

Our Story

We all have "a story," don't we? The thing about our stories, though, is that they are ever-changing. Evolving. Progressing. Becoming refined. And not one of them is exempt from the bad and the ugly.

And the blessing, here, is that each chapter builds the next - the foundation of false starts, hard-times, and heartache all contribute to the present. Which, as you all know, is a gift.

On Saturday our friend Martha stopped by the farmers' market to say hello and that she really enjoyed reading our article in the Stanly News and Press.

Wait, what? I hadn't been aware that it was going to come out so soon! It seemed just like last week when Shannon Beamon, a staff writer for the SNAP had pulled up in the driveway, the skies threatening rain. We had met Shannon once before at a pizza night over at Fair Meadow Bakes.

While Shannon and I meandered around the farm between the garden, raised beds, greenhouse and pasture - we chatted about how this family arrived in North Carolina from California. We also explored the why, the how, and the results of our figurative detours along the way. Eventually we sat at our dining room table, with her asking questions and me answering them, while often finding myself off on a tangent. A story cannot be told in just an hour. There's a fraction of a lifetime of information to gather and organize!

As Shannon left I thought, "I hope I didn't make us out to sound like pompous asses." Even though I know we are not pompous asses, there are the perceptions of others to consider. Or, are there? Maybe a story gets its uniqueness from the interpretations and perceptions.

There are certainly misinterpreted parts of our stories. The parts where people perceive a statement one way, when really the truth is the opposite, or at least another version of the perception.

There were a few mistakes in this story, like the "motor-home" we traveled across the country in? It was a 1982 GMC one-ton dually, a 6-liter diesel, pick up truck. Slower than molasses in January. And not real comfortable to sleep in, which we did several times.

Also, I don't paint. I'm not good at it, but Captain Strong Arms painted this entire house, by himself, with one brush. Two coats, mind you. And that was AFTER he scraped, sanded, and caulked. THEN he primed it before he began painting - with that SAME brush.

It's true, I did make a lot of sandwiches. And chase a perpetually-active toddler. Most of all, I was one-third of a role in the building of our story. And I have taken a lot of photos along the way.

While we do use solar-power, it has nothing to do with the outdoor wood stove that heats our hot water and in the winter time heats our house. Those are two separate entities. And two separate stories. Like the one where we didn't have electricity for three months while we were saving our pennies for the solar panels.

Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed that tidbit of our story. As Dr. Who says, "I’ll be a story in your head, but that’s okay, because we’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?"

Backward & Forward - Or Is It The Other Way Around?

Whilst some folks are just now seeing the fruits of their labor in the garden, it is not the case here at Hope Farms. What some might see here are weeds, some failed crops, and some crops that haven't not only been transplanted yet, but some that haven't even been seeded yet.

The conclusion is painful, but must be admitted: Hope Farms, on opening day of the Stanly County Farmers' Market, was the only farm present with actual fresh produce being offered. There was kale, collards, Swiss chard, lettuces, radishes, carrots, onions, freshly-cut herbs and more. I don't even recall all that I had on the table, but it was a pivotal moment. To have had all of that by just April 13 after the coldest March on record in who-knows-how-long? But I digress.

That in itself is not the painful part.

The punch-in-the-stomach is this: there isn't enough being produced, right now, to support the busiest and largest market that we attend.

Chalk it up to inexperience. Rain. Bugs. Voles. Rain. Oh, and did I mention rain? How about wind? Yeah, all of the above. Maybe throw in some poor planning. But that would suffice within inexperience, yes?

Here's what it comes down to:

I cannot come to the market on Saturdays anymore until my fall crops begin to come in. 

The goal is to be back to Saturdays at the Stanly County market by the beginning of September.

Meanwhile, we will continue to attend Mondays market at Stanly Commons from 10 am to 2 pm as well as Thursdays market in downtown Troy from 3:30 pm to 6:30 pm.

A great deal has been learned this year, folks, and one of the biggest and most important things I've come to know as priority is honesty.

So there it is. In all of its painful glorious honesty. Our small-timey farm is not big-time. And that's okay.

Those of you who cannot make it to those markets and would like to stop by the farm - please do not hesitate to call or e-mail (see tab above that says, "Contact Us.") We're more than happy to let you know what we've got available and make arrangements for you to pick it up.

There are many thanks to all of those who have supported us, no matter which market, through this season so far. We're very grateful for you!

Small-Timey

There are days when I wonder, “What is the point?” and as I contemplate the question I toss around mathematical figures without any real answer.

I began harvesting at 7 am, packaged Swiss chard, kale, salad lettuces, cucumbers, squash, tomatoes, and fresh-cut herbs by 8:40 am. Loaded cooler, readied vehicle and changed clothes – by 9 am I’m turning the key in the ignition of the old mini-van and am rolling west-bound toward the farmers’ market. Arrive and set up by 9:50 am. At 11:30 am I have counted the dollars that have come across my quilt-covered table and I can’t deny being a bit disappointed. Sixteen dollars and fifty cents grace the bottom of my change box.

With just over two hours to go, I chat with fellow vendors on either side and across from my table. There is abundance of squash, tomatoes, lettuce, blackberries, green beans, corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, potatoes and some specialty items such as sprouted grain whole wheat breads baked in a wood fired brick-oven and pasture raised poultry and fresh-from-the-farm free-range eggs. It’s a delightful scene..

Everyone who’s ever grown a market-garden and attended farmers’ markets knows that they take time to grow. As this market is brand-new as of this past May, it would be wrong to have high expectations in regards to sales, but it would also be wrong to believe that it is sustainable to spend, by the time I arrive back home and unload the van, just over eight hours and have brought home (hopefully) twenty dollars. That breaks down to two dollars and fifty cents per hour, folks. Hardly a wage to behold – keeping in mind this does not take into account the fuel used to travel the 56 mile round-trip and the time, seeds, water and other tools used in preparation for the growth and harvest of the produce. And we all know that when beginning a business, especially in the agriculture world, one cannot even begin to look at recovering the cost of their time. Out the window it flies, whether we’re having fun or not.

My kale and Swiss chard seems to silently scream out, “Pick me – I’m GOOD and I’m NUTRITIOUS – I haven’t traveled 2000 miles nor have I been sprayed or dusted with any kind of chemical, EVER!” the passersby head to the tomatoes and jellies on the table next to me. Or, they stop at the table two stalls over for the great looking red and green cabbages. I don’t begrudge them their choices, nor do I feel ill will toward the fellow farmers. I want everyone to succeed.

Second in nutrition only to spinach, my Swiss chard is a sleeper, with few knowing the power of the vitamins, minerals, and protein wielded within (yes, protein). Although not one ounce of anything is ever wasted on our farm, even if the greens did go on a 56 mile round-trip, for if we can’t eat it right away, it goes to the pigs, chickens, cow, horse, goat, rabbit and the guinea pig. Sometimes my dogs look at me with forlorn eyes as though they think I might believe they could become vegetarians. Although Sam, my border collie, will dig an avocado skin out of the compost pile every single time I put one in there. The symbiosis is almost enough to make up for the lack of revenue. Almost.

“This area won’t support a farmers’ market,” they’d say. I refused to listen for almost three seasons. As stubborn as a mule, and able to argue with a post, I have been determined to direct market my fresh, local food to the very people with whom I share zip codes with. The first season, 2011, I sold my eggs. I quickly learned that Joel Salatin nailed the mindset when he talked about customers coming to the market with a $1.49 bottle of soda in their hand while complaining that three dollars per dozen for farm-fresh free-range eggs was “too darn much money!” The second season, my husband, in charge of going to market as my AmeriCorps VISTA duties required that I adhere to a strict “no moonlighting” policy, lasted only until the end of June. He became thoroughly disgusted when he could not give a tomato away let alone sell one. He quit. And my heart ached.  This year I resolved to farm full-time. I told my husband, “It’ll be different; I’ll grow other things that we won’t have to try to give away.” Here I sit with my Swiss chard. It’s the end of June. I’m a wee bit worried.

If I weren't in the midst of reading Forrest Pritchard’s book, Gaining Ground, I’d be even more than a wee bit worried. I’d probably cry. Never mind that I had to take a deep breath when 1:15 pm came and went while my cash box increased by just eleven dollars. This brings my grand total to $27.50 today. In the book, on page 188, the paragraph that resounded with me most began,

“Just like a farm, markets had to be tight and good enough, too. Each tent was like a little garden unto itself, with a farmer tending to its needs. Collectively, these gardens created a landscape, a market unto itself. But no matter how excellent the presentation, no matter how fresh the produce, regardless of how well these farmers watered and weeded, tilled, and toiled, the work was all meaningless if there were no customers to buy the food.” 

Sigh.

Don’t get me wrong, I've had good days. Days when I've sold out and left the market early because I had nothing left to sell except for a sprig of basil and two bunches of orange and chocolate mint and maybe a dozen eggs. I LOVE growing food and I LOVE going to market. There is something special about meeting the people who are going to take home MY food and turn it into a part of a meal that will nourish their bodies. Developing relationships with individuals and families is extremely important to me. I've come to know many market-goers by name and if I saw them somewhere else, I would stop to ask them how they are doing, and walk away smiling because it was food and a farmers’ market that allowed me to know them. I’m honored to grow food for those who want it.

As I drove home today after a debauched errand my heart sank lower than it has felt in weeks. Between the end of the market, which yielded not one additional penny, and driving home I had a chance to read more of Forrest’s book. I’m still a dreamer. This paragraph resounded with me heavily:

“All farms require a resident dreamer, someone to thumb through seed catalogs in the cold days of late January, imagining summer fields of squash and cucumbers, tomatoes and sunflowers. Fall harvests are the reward of winter dreams. Someone must decide where the next fence should be placed, or conceive of a clever new way to organize the market stand. On a farm, there’s no shortage of little dreams needing to be dreamed.”

I must credit my husband with being the dreamer-in-chief. There have been countless conversations – early morning, late night, and in between – about keeping our feet on the ground. I've been called a pessimist when I was simply being what I thought was a realist. “But what a about ‘you-fill-in-the-blank?’ I would ask. His answers would vary, but always firmly root in the fundamental soil of ‘If we don’t try it we’ll never know.’ He has stretched us, as a family, and caused me to question everything I have been taught and told. I suppose that is one of the driving motivations for turning to farming in the quest for making a living – question everything. Often I tell people that everything is an experiment – learning the hard way teaches me the best lessons. And sometimes the most financially stressful ones, too.

It is good that the farm has been officially and affectionately dubbed "small-timey" because I'm feeling rather small and vulnerable right now - like a seedling just transplanted before a big downpour. I'm either going to make it, or I'm not. My vote is for the former.

Notes From The Farmers' Market

It occurred to me when her blue eyes smiled at me. Scratch that, they twinkled! She did not stop to talk but just smiled as she passed by.


Visiting a farmers’ market is healthy. Not just because of the food, but because of the interpersonal connection. Something magical happens when you make eye contact with others.  Suddenly you are one. Or not. Some folks like to talk, some do not.

For some reason, I dislike the phrase, “How are you?” It feels contrived. I find myself telling passersby “Let me know if I can answer any questions.” And that seems to be a neutral invitation for conversation that doesn't immediately obligate one for extensive personal reveal.


Then, the connection either grows or is broken. It is unlike reading a Facebook post or receiving an email. It is a two-way interaction that rests light responsibility on both pairs of shoulders. I've learned it is okay to always be myself – foot-in-the-mouth and all – regardless. I can’t help but be myself. Besides, I hear everyone else is already taken.

Interestingly, repeat customers know what they want and typically don’t read your signs anymore after about the second visit. This is, again, an opportunity for conversation. If an individual chooses just one or two items, I always say, “What else?” instead of “Is that all?” – and open ended question is better than a closed-end question and the reason for this is not to make another sale, but to expound upon an opportunity to learn about your customer. “ I've got lettuce growing at home,” they might say to which I always smile and encourage anyone that attempts to grow their own food. It seems contradictory but really, it’s to everyone’s benefit to grow one’s own food, and creates a ripple effect that cultivates all of our roots – we all have this in common: the necessity to eat. Not one of us is immune to that need.

One of the greatest things about the interaction of the farmers’ and their customers is the invaluable feedback that returns from week to week. “Your lettuce keeps so well, I still have some left!” This is valuable to us, and to consumers, and we growers will remember this as our experience grows. Feedback, negative or positive, is essential to good customer service. I've come to offer the vulnerability of telling the truth – the heat makes lettuce bitter, and that if they experience anything that makes them unhappy, to come back and tell me, and I will replace it. So far, everyone that has come back has told me that they have loved the fresh food. This makes me happy.


What also makes me happy is that people seem to smile more at the market. There must be something in the air. Maybe it’s the fresh morning breeze.


Getting to know your fellow vendors is important, too. Most often, if they don’t smile – smile at them first. It’s free and they can’t help but smile back – it would make them look like a jerk if they didn't  yes? It can be like an awkward dance, at first, especially if you and another vendor are producing like items. The produce world can be brutal. Dealing with perishable crops and being at the mercy of the weather and persistent pests can cause stress. Stress can help us become better farmers and better customer service providers. Competition, on a healthy level, is usually a good thing. Sometimes, when a farmers wears too much of a frown, especially when he or she looks my way, it might be a sign that they are having a bad day. Or, it could mean that they’re just jealous. Wait, that’s what I just said! Or, it means that it has nothing to do with me and that comparison is the thief of all joy. Be like a duck and let it roll off.  Better yet, extend your hand and smile in grace and mercy and open that door to conversation. You might be surprised.

On another note, kids (of ALL ages) like to touch. It’s always good if you can have something out front for people to squeeze, pinch, smell and feel. I learned this from a gentleman who genuinely loves to grow plants and is a very talented grower and is very much a people person. The senses are very much a part of the farmers’ market experience. Put a bouquet of herbs out there – lemon balm is always nice to touch and smell. Interactivity is the basis for our relationships. It starts with the twinkle in the eyes which starts with the smile.

See you at the market!

Winning Friends, Influencing People and Cheap Spinach

Today I learned a lesson over again. You can't please everyone all the time. You can only please one person at a time. Today was not my day.

I learned something else, too. Slugs will eat holes in your Wong Bok. They will also eat holes in your Romaine lettuce. Fire ants will take up residence in your raised beds, laughing at you because they know you refuse to use poison (diatomaceous earth slows them down and even makes them move, but then they come back and with a vengeance.) I hate slugs. I'm thinking of inviting them to an all-you-can-drink beer-fest. "Leave your keys at the door, boys and girls!" Heh heh heh.

When I price my spinach, Romaine lettuce, radishes (let's not forget the voles that take tiny, teeny little bites out of the radish JUST as it becomes ripe, the little twirps), turnip and mustard greens for market, sometimes I have to remind myself that here in America, we pay less for our food than most other developed countries. It seems bizarre that I would labor for hours, days and weeks over a few ounces of spinach only to practically give it away. Especially poignant is when people say, "oh, it must be nice to stay home and garden. I wish I could do that." But they forget that there are no acrylic nails here, the hair salon visits are years apart, and that hands are not Palmolive soft - they're more like #50 sandpaper and catch on any nice clothing you may have, but not wear, as it is too muddy, dusty, or you-name-it out there.

Today I learned that I really appreciate all of the things that Captain Strong Arms does to make our lives just that wee bit easier. Like the automatic chicken waterer. And the goat milking stanchion. And the list goes on. He was out there with me in the greenhouse tonight, until just a little while ago, holding the flashlight. Yes, you read that right, flashlight. An 8 am farmers' market in a county 30 minutes from here dictates an evening harvest. We'll see how everything holds up.

I'll try to remember to take pictures tomorrow.

Happy Farmers' Marketing everyone, 'tis the season! Support your local farmers, don't haggle them down on price, and ALWAYS WASH YOUR PRODUCE before you prepare it.

Cheers!

Farmchick?

I didn't set  out to be a Farmchick. Really, I didn't. Somehow having horses all of my life and keeping chickens for the latter half has just been a reality for me, as opposed to a dream. Or, maybe I made those dreams come true with the help of my parents, then, and now my husband?

Chicken Whisperer?

There seems to be a great revival in the movement of local food, farming, and the ethical implications that come along with all of the above.

Egg Whisperer?

But we're not here to discuss that in detail today. Today, we're all about this Farm Chick Hat! Is it not the cutest thing you've seen?

Farmchick - the hat makes it!

As usual, since I'm late for almost everything, I got this hat about a month two months ago, but have not taken the time to write anything about it.

The point is, I've worn it, though, and it is such a nice fitting hat! The brim is solid, sturdy and thick - the cap material is soft yet holds shape well, and I LOVE the Velcro (why did spell-check just tell me to capitalize the V in velcro? Weird.) size adjustment!  And, since I am a Farm Chick Chit Chat Farmchick (say that three times fast?) and Hobby Hill Farm is the official outfitter of the Farmchicks, it is a perfect fit - literally and figuratively.

Aaand, one more pic of that cute hat!! I wear it a LOT!

This hat is embroidered by the good folks over at Hobby Hill Farm and for a short time, you can head on over to their website and by using the checkout code HOPE - you will receive 15% off of your purchase! Folks, click the link NOW and get your Farm Chick hat on!! They have all KINDS of farm-ware - check out their beautiful sweatshirts, too! I'm loving the colors.

And after you're done shopping, hop on over to check out Farm Chick Chit Chat - I'm quite sure you'll feel right at home there, I do! A while back, we started a project, which would sort of explain the plethora of photos above, here it is in all its glory:

"We are the Real Farmchicks of Farm Chick Chit Chat.  We are scattered from as far north as Maine to as far south as Texas, and from as far east as Virginia to as far west as California.  In September of 2012, we began to work together to bring the best of what we do into one convenient resource.  We have become close friends and truly value the friendship we also share with our readers.

We are hobby farmers, chicken keepers, gardeners, goat herders, canners, knitters, homesteaders, and DIYers. We raise cows, goats, rabbits, sheep, chickens, ducks and farm kids. We grow crops; we preserve and can; we bake and cook.  We home school, knit and crochet, build, re-purpose, and craft."

After you shop Hobby Hill Farm for your official Farmchick gear: Click here to read more....

**I would like to thank Hobby Hill Farm for allowing me the opportunity to review the Farm Chick Ball Cap. I was sent a sample product in order to allow me to evaluate its performance on my farm. *Disclosure: I did not receive additional compensation for writing this review. The review framework did not guarantee a positive review in exchange for the receipt of their product. This review contains both facts about the product and my opinion of its performance while being used at my farm.

Garden of Weedin'

At this point in the summer, as in years past, the weeds have nearly taken over the garden.  The raised beds suffer less from the invasion of Mother Nature's misplaced flowers, although keeping them consistently watered has proved a challenge.

One of the raised "beds" - complete with salvaged headboard.
The pitchers hold water for various insects, hopefully mostly pollinators....

Every year we learn more about beneficial and unwanted pests, and continue the rather steep learning curve in regards to soil amendments, composting, and management of planting successive crops.

It seems as though we are in the mid-summer garden of weedin' blahs, though.  Not much is producing well, and although we've had ample rain and sunshine, the heat has taken its toll on many of the plants we'd placed our hopes for bumpers crops upon, and alas, one cannot begin to sell a tomato at the farmers' market - so we have taken to giving them away.

I had to laugh when I came across a freecycle post offering "homegrown tomatoes," as it reaffirmed my saying of "you can't give 'em away."

New piglets were born about a month and a half ago, mama & babies are doing well.  One piglet died, as this was mama's first litter, she inadvertently smothered him within the first hour of birth.  Sigh.

Hattie the family milk cow is doing well as are "Red" and "Pete" the beef cows (yesterday Pete was referred to as a 'beefcake' by a dear friend of mine, and I believe that shall be one of his nicknames for sure - if the shoe fits...) and because of all the blessed rain and sunshine, the pastures are thriving.

Spencer, aka: the skinned horse and April, aka: pistol Annie are tolerating the summer well.  What can we expect from 25 and 37 year old California-grown horses in this NC humidity?  They like their salt rock which makes me happy, giving me peace of mind that they are keeping their electrolytes in balance, which is so important to avoid dehydration.

The farm dogs are hiding in the coolness of the damp earth beneath the old farmhouse and the barn cat makes an appearance after his daily nap, tired out from chasing mice all night (which hopefully keeps the snakes at bay, which will eat our eggs!).

In other news, my dad is here from California, and we are enjoying his visit.

Dad relaxes while Farmer Ed milks the cow, "Hattie."

More fun than a basket of......squash?

So it's that time of year again; the farmers' markets in the area are in full swing bringing to the people the local goods that we all want without it having traveled 1793 miles to get to us.

There are two farmers that live close to us raising a fair variety of produce - namely cabbage, zucchini, yellow squash, potatoes, and candy onions.  I've been bringing a small amount of it to market with me as people have been asking for produce, and well, we want to please the people.  The farmers have been so busy irrigating and cultivating they've not had time to actually come to the market, so we help them out and by doing so, help you out by providing locally grown, fresh and wholesome produce.

Last week was busy - three markets, in-laws visiting from CO, AR and NJ and trying to fit in there somewhere was six hours of a Math class and a few hours worth of an English class.

That's us by the way, in the photograph above, the humans of Hope Farms;  we're just like everyone else.  We have dreams, trials, good days, bad days and in between all of that, we're working hard to make sure that what we do is better than just "good enough" and that what we bring to market is of the highest quality, produced with integrity and pride.  And best of all;  it is LOCAL.

In other news, we learned today that we are now officially Piedmont Grown Certified, which means:

"The Piedmont Grown logo is displayed with farm products grown, raised, or made in the North Carolina Piedmont. When you see the Piedmont Grown logo, you know you’re buying fresher foods that support local farms, strengthen the local economy, preserve rural culture, and protect the natural beauty of the Piedmont Region."

So now when you see this logo - think local, think fresh and think:  Hope Farms.

p.s. come see us at the Montgomery County Farmers' Markets 

Town of Star - Tuesdays 2:30pm - 6pm 454 S Main St @ "the pink  house"

Town of Troy - Thursdays 3pm - 6pm 417 N Main St @ the CashPoints ATM parking lot