Identification Please 2023

"[E]veryone tells a story about themselves inside their own head.  Always.  All the time.  That story makes you what you are.  We build ourselves out of that story."  

Bast to Chronicler in "Name of the Wind" by Patrick Rothfuss.

I distinctly remember a moment in time when I was working on my doctoral thesis that I realized that my story - the one I told myself about myself - had just changed.  I am not sure if there was a particular driving event, but I simply understood that I was no longer an individual who wanted to achieve completion of a PhD.  Instead, I knew I was a person who had earned that PhD and it was simply a matter of dotting i's and crossing t's to get others to recognize that same thing.

It was also at that time that I realized that many doctoral committees are simply waiting for the student to come to this conclusion.  Once a student begins to identify as someone who belongs in the group of people who have moved on to the 'next step,' then it is time to facilitate moving to that next step.

Of course, the transition from student to academic with an earned degree wasn't quite as instantaneous as that.  There were still days that I told myself a story of uncertainty.  Was I just an imposter trying to be something and somebody else?    

But, over time, the story gained clarity and I became someone who belonged, more or less, in academia.  I say "more or less" because part of my story I told myself was that there were some traits attributed to academics that I didn't want applied to me.  So, I told myself a story of how I was 'my own kind' of academic.  I also say "more or less" because, like many people who are self-critical, there were plenty of moments where I still thought this all must be some sort of colossal mistake that I had a PhD...

When we moved to the Genuine Faux Farm, I had to adjust the story I told myself.  I was an academic waiting for the opportunity that was certain to come along.  In the meantime, I adjusted my story by re-inserting parts of myself that had 'gone on vacation' while I concentrated whole-heartedly on my education.  I also introduced new ideas and new concepts.  There were fresh subplots, plot twists and new characters.

Eventually, I became "Farmer Rob."  Once again, there was plenty of learning to do.  There were numerous occasions where I was not sure I was anything better than an imposter.  But, there came a moment when I knew that the Farmer Rob story was, in fact, who I was.  I belonged, more or less, in a community of people who worked hard to grow food for others.

Before you get the wrong idea, let me make it clear that a strong story does not mean there aren't moments of self-doubt and uncertainty.  That's simply part of my story of being human and imperfect.  This subplot is what keeps me looking to learn - keeps me questioning and pushing to do better - no matter what the rest of the plot for the story is.

I worked so hard to build Farmer Rob for a little over sixteen years that it was a little disconcerting to consider a dramatic change to the plot line.  And, yet, that's exactly what I did in 2020 - a time when so many others were thinking hard about where they needed to go next.  I took a job with Pesticide Action Network with the idea that both my academic story and my farmer stories could serve me in a new way.

Today, the story I tell myself often focuses around observing, learning, thinking hard, and writing.  I still have a lot of Farmer Rob in me, and there are significant moments where Teacher Rob, Music-lover Rob, Mentor Rob, Academic Rob, Postal Historian Rob, Nature-loving Rob, and whatever other Rob there is takes the lead.  Sometimes there are so many Robs in my story that it gets crowded and confused.  

But eventually one of these Robs decides they are going to eat today's lunch, no matter what the others might say about it.  

I have come to realize that my story changes a little bit every single day.  And that's my new battle.  If you think I had moments of self-doubt when I was focusing on entering the academic or farming worlds, what happens when you straddle several such worlds at one time?

Who am I today?  Who will I be tomorrow?  Which story is going to be the one I turn the pages on in the near future?  Are any of the stories closed?  Are there still unknown story lines to be introduced?

Well, I will tell you this much.  When I see myself next, I might have to ask to see my identification.

And no, I am not really having an identity crisis.  I am simply finding myself in a complex story.  One that I am telling myself.  One that defines who I think I am.  And I have come to the conclusion that it's not about trying to finalize my identity for comfort's sake.  It's about appreciating the story as it unfolds.

Three Weeks

This Thursday, I was considering the migration of the swallows from our farm (and elsewhere).  Already, we have had multiple visits from swallows who are from regions to our north.  I was trying to remember how far they flew each day (55 miles) and knew I had that factoid here.  So, I will share this as a Throwback Thursday post because it's a good one.

Enjoy!

----------------------------

It was just three weeks ago that we entered the month of September, and I've only just gotten used to the idea that we are actually residing in that month.  I am still startled to notice that schools are in session and that Tammy is now fully into the semester at the college.  I am both dismayed and a bit alarmed that the sun comes up later each day and goes down sooner.  There are tasks that I told myself should be easy to get done during the month that I have not even started and there are changes I promised I would make that are still promises - but not reality.

Three weeks.  It doesn't seem like much time at all - yet it can be all the time in the world.

The first days of April this year brought snowfall to the Genuine Faux Farm.  The big, fluffy flakes floated down from above and drew me outside with the camera to see if I could capture a pleasing image or two.  Even if they weren't the nicest pictures in the world, they served as an excellent reminder of what was at that time.  

There was a moment, as I stood outside and the flakes landed on my hands and head (well, hat actually), that time felt like it stopped.  There was silence - except for the sound a snowflake makes when it lands.

But, then I blinked.

And three weeks had passed.  There was no snow.  The grass had greened.  Some of the earliest plants were starting to show interest in waking and displaying their greenery.

The sun woke us up earlier each and every day - unless it was shy and hid behind the clouds.  And, that same sun found more to see in our landscape, so it stuck around a bit longer into the evening - painting the sky as it finally admitted it had seen enough this time around.

Three weeks and the world had changed enough that a stranger might not recognize that they were in the same place that had existed just twenty-one days ago.

Three weeks is about how long it takes for a Barn Swallow chick to hatch and grow big enough for it to take its first flight.  In three days more, it has likely left the nest for good.  In three weeks, we can see the first German-bearded Iris bloom and, sometimes the last for the season.  It's a special bloom season when we see them for four weeks.  We often transplant lettuce seedlings we started in trays after a little more than three weeks.  

Going back to our Barn Swallow friends, they are currently migrating, typically leaving our farm in September (we usually see the last of them on September 15, but many leave September 1st).  They travel an average of 55 miles a day, so in three weeks they will have covered approximately 1,155 miles.  That is approximately the distance from our farm to Galveston, Texas. 

Three weeks.  So little time - and so much.  I can either allow myself to be upset that so much has changed, but I have not accomplished what I wanted OR I can be encouraged and I can think about what I will be able to do in the next three weeks.

Because a lot can change over that period of time.

Three Weeks

It was just three weeks ago that we entered the month of September, and I've only just gotten used to the idea that we are actually residing in that month.  I am still startled to notice that schools are in session and that Tammy is now fully into the semester at the college.  I am both dismayed and a bit alarmed that the sun comes up later each day and goes down sooner.  There are tasks that I told myself should be easy to get done during the month that I have not even started and there are changes I promised I would make that are still promises - but not reality.

Three weeks.  It doesn't seem like much time at all - yet it can be all the time in the world.

The first days of April this year brought snowfall to the Genuine Faux Farm.  The big, fluffy flakes floated down from above and drew me outside with the camera to see if I could capture a pleasing image or two.  Even if they weren't the nicest pictures in the world, they served as an excellent reminder of what was at that time.  

There was a moment, as I stood outside and the flakes landed on my hands and head (well, hat actually), that time felt like it stopped.  There was silence - except for the sound a snowflake makes when it lands.

But, then I blinked.

And three weeks had passed.  There was no snow.  The grass had greened.  Some of the earliest plants were starting to show interest in waking and displaying their greenery.

The sun woke us up earlier each and every day - unless it was shy and hid behind the clouds.  And, that same sun found more to see in our landscape, so it stuck around a bit longer into the evening - painting the sky as it finally admitted it had seen enough this time around.

Three weeks and the world had changed enough that a stranger might not recognize that they were in the same place that had existed just twenty-one days ago.

Three weeks is about how long it takes for a Barn Swallow chick to hatch and grow big enough for it to take its first flight.  In three days more, it has likely left the nest for good.  In three weeks, we can see the first German-bearded Iris bloom and, sometimes the last for the season.  It's a special bloom season when we see them for four weeks.  We often transplant lettuce seedlings we started in trays after a little more than three weeks.  

Going back to our Barn Swallow friends, they are currently migrating, typically leaving our farm in September (we usually see the last of them on September 15, but many leave September 1st).  They travel an average of 55 miles a day, so in three weeks they will have covered approximately 1,155 miles.  That is approximately the distance from our farm to Galveston, Texas. 

Three weeks.  So little time - and so much.  I can either allow myself to be upset that so much has changed, but I have not accomplished what I wanted OR I can be encouraged and I can think about what I will be able to do in the next three weeks.

Because a lot can change over that period of time.

The Difference Eight Years Can Make

July 2014 at the Genuine Faux Farm

I was trying to find a different picture when I came across the photo above from 2014 at our farm.  This is the area out by the road and to the east of our driveway.  It was an area we wanted to get some new trees into as part our stewardship of the farm and its surroundings.

Of course, the two ash trees dominated this area, as they were well established when we got here in 2004.  But, by this point in time we were well aware that Emerald Ash Borers would eventually catch up to these trees, whether we wanted that to happen or not.  So, if you look carefully, you can see a few evergreens we put in and a Gingko tree.  There is another, larger evergreen we put in around 2005.

I recall that we wanted to do more with trees earlier in our tenure at the Genuine Faux Farm, but when you have lots of goals, you have to prioritize because you simply can't do everything.  That, and a couple of trees we put in ended up being victim to some early storms.

So, take a look at this same area today.

2022 at the Genuine Faux Farm

The ash trees are gone, as we had foreseen.  We decided to leave the trunks for the woodpeckers (and maybe we'll put a kestral nestbox on one?).  The evergreens have put on some good size over the years.  But, the Gingko has done next to nothing.  Yeah, it puts leaves on every year - so that's something.  But, it just never has seemed terribly happy with where it is.  And, we've added a couple of crab apples closer to the driveway now.  

This is where looking back can be very helpful as we consider and plan for what we are doing next at the farm.  We see some successful prognostication on our part.  We some opportunities missed and other opportunities taken.  And - we see growth and change that is often too slow for us to recognize from day to day or month to month.  But, when we look at a longer period of time, the evidence is clear for us to view.

And that is why I take the time to look back at the older photos of our farm every so often.  It confirms for me that if we commit to doing our best to do what seems right for the Genuine Faux Farm, there can be positive rewards.  Sometimes doing the right thing is to act on something and sometimes it is to be patient and wait.  And sometimes... we actually get it right.

Did we get it right on this part of the farm?  Well, I suppose we could have done many things differently, but that doesn't necessarily make what has happened wrong.  We can't change what we did eight years ago either, so this is what we have - which means it is as right as it is going to be and as wrong as it is going to be.  All we can do at this point is to take what we have learned and make decisions for what we are doing now.

I wonder what our actions today will look like in 2030?  Well, if we're still here doing our thing, we'll probably share on August 1st of that year - because that seems like the sort of thing we would do.

Ashes, Ashes

It was as recent as 2019 that the two large ash trees on our farm were covered in foliage, even though it was clear to us that there was something very wrong with them.  The Emerald Ash Borer had finally made it to rural Bremer County, and it only took a couple of years for our two friends to succumb to this invasive pest.

We didn't get overly aggressive with removing the trees for a couple of reasons.  First, the derecho really grabbed the attention of most Iowa tree specialists and second, we knew these trees would provide some habitat for our woodpeckers and other birds.

We didn't necessarily find the dead trees to be horrible to look at either, though we would have preferred the living versions of those trees.  Unfortunately, they were becoming more and more dangerous, shedding larger limbs at potentially bad moments - making it difficult for us to do the things we needed to do.

Fortunately, we did get someone to agree to come and take most of the two trees down AND chip up those branches so we could continue to find a use for our ash friends on the farm.  The trunks we left up to about a height of 20 feet.  Perhaps a woodpecker or two will still find them interesting.  Maybe we'll put a kestrel nest box in one?

But, we're all still trying to get used to the new skyline at the Genuine Faux Farm.  It just seems like there is more room for clouds and blue skies than there used to be.  Maybe that's a good thing?

We can still grieve the loss of trees we liked - there is nothing wrong with that.  But, the younger trees in the area are all friends we have planted.  We knew the ash borer was in our future, so we started several years ago to prepare for this moment.  We don't have to like that these trees died, but I think we can feel good that we're still trying to do our best to provide habitat and shelter on the farm.

Change of Pace

Welcome to Friday.  And, since it is Friday, we'll do something a little different.

I wonder if other people are noticing some of the same things I've been noticing about myself over the past couple of years.  So, in order to find out - I kind of have to share some of the things I've been noticing...

So, do any of these things sound familiar to you?  And if so, how do you address these things - or do you think they need to be addressed?

1. I'm avoiding "tension" in the fiction books I read

Ok.  Let me be clear here.  I do like to read, but I haven't been reading as much as I used to.  And when I do read, I tend to favor books I have already read.

This is the part where you ask the question "Why?" 

Wee pause for a second....so you can ask "Why?"

Well, I'm glad you asked.  Anyway, I assume you asked "why" because... well, how can you ignore a request given as a caption to a cute baby picture of the Sandman?

Anyway, most excellent fiction thrives by putting the characters through moments of tension and trial.  Authors often take the story to bleak and difficult places and the story (especially if you like the fantasy genre) often explores the limits of how bad things can get, while still allowing some of the characters to survive so you can continue until the end when - hopefully - there is redemption and renewal.

Over the past five or six years, I have found that I no longer have the capacity to handle the stress, even though I know it is fictional.  In short, I am finding too many parallels to the world I live in.  So, I end up reading a book I have already read, because there is no longer uncertainty in my mind as to how things will end.  I can read through the low spots knowing there is light at the end of the tunnel. 

It's gotten to the point that I have started some books and have been enjoying them immensely - and I put them down when the going gets rough.  And I haven't found the energy to pick them back up again.

Yeah.  I suppose I could read the last chapter to come to some sort of assurance that I can find some resolution, but I don't even do that.   

How about you?  Have you noticed this about yourself lately?  Or is it just me?

2. I'm forgetting how face to face interactions are supposed to work

Yes.  I am exaggerating just a bit.  But, I have noticed that there is a stronger sense of unease - even with people I know well.

Now - full disclosure.  As a quiet person who tends to be more introverted than most, I have always maintained a bit more personal space and I do tend to listen more than I talk - unless it is my JOB to speak.  So, in many ways, my personality type is better suited to some of the isolation we've all had to deal with for a couple of years now.

But now, I find myself taking time to process even things that used to be automatic, like accepting a handshake.  I will say that it can get pretty awkward when two people have their hands extended half-way to each other and each person has a far-away look in their eyes that tells you that they are wondering, "Is it a good idea to shake hands with this person?  What if they aren't ready to do that?"

And then there is the moment when both parties realize they've been standing there in complete and utter indecision.  Now they have to deal with the awkward moment of trying to figure out how to navigate ALMOST shaking hands.

And, I am noticing people (including myself) are having a harder time figuring out how much eye contact is appropriate.

On the other hand, I have noticed that people are more willing to share "bigger and more important" things earlier in a conversation now - there is less preamble with small-talk, which suits me just fine.  But, I sense unease in others who do prefer more of a lead up to things.

Departures have gotten even less easy.  Even people who are usually pretty good at defining ends to conversations and saying "good-byes" are struggling with the issue of how to come to the conclusion of a discussion.

I am sure we all know some of the reasons for this.  If you are like me, you've been in more video conference calls than you ever thought you would be in EVER.  And, if you are like me, it's actually a fairly big part of your employment.  There is no way you can be involved in that much "virtual" social interaction without it impacting how you see ALL types of social interaction.

How about you?  Are you noticing this too?

Well, thanks for dropping by and reading this blog post.

It was nice "seeing" you here.

I hope you have a good day.

Well, bye... I guess.

Take care.

Um....yeah.

One Year, Lots Different

The Genuine Faux Farm is a living farm, and as such, it undergoes continuous changes as we travel from season to season and year to year.  Sometimes the differences provide a stark contrast to what once was, and at other times, one can barely tell that things aren't the way they were before.

If I show this recent picture of our farm to people in the blog, they will probably just shrug their shoulders and say, "ya, so what?  It's a bunch of trees and some blue sky."

To me, this photo shows one of the more dramatic changes that has happened on our farm over the past couple of months.  Just last November, the area looked like this (by the way, it is just coincidence that the same flair box is in a similar location right now).
 

I mentioned just last Friday that we have a few "blind spots" on our farm that come primarily out of necessity.  The two of us are fully aware that there are some things that could use our attention that, to everyone else, look very much like we ignore them.  The old barn became one such blind spot as it became apparent that it was no longer safe to use and there was no way we could afford to repair it.

Sadly, it is safer for us to ignore the project that is the clean-up of the old barn because it will take a significant chunk of time and effort.  And, there are other things standing in line AHEAD of this project that will use those resources first.

August's rough weather week is responsible for this very big visual change at our farm.  And, being perfectly honest, knocking the remainder of the barn down was actually a small favor to us.  We just might be able to start cleaning the old building up now that it won't require lots of specialized equipment to do so.  We just still need access to the time and energy resources.

Speaking of the difference one year can make, let me point out that I took this picture on October 19, 2020. 

The temperatures have been extremely warm for this time of year in 2021.  We have sniffed the 30's for a low temperature only once so far.  And, this year I am grateful for it.  

It's true that there are other years when having a long, warm Fall could be a good thing for the Genuine Faux Farm.  But, up until this year, we have been running the farm at 'full capacity.'  Now that we have stepped back a bit, we still have plenty to do out there and the time we have to spend outside is more limited than it has been in the past.  That means we value those outdoor hours in a different way.

So, the difference isn't the fact that a long Fall is useful to us to try to get it all done.  The difference is in my attitude towards that long Fall.  If you transport me back to October of 2018 when we were just barely hanging on, you would find a completely different attitude.  We were wishing the season would just end and put us out of our misery.  

I suspect we are not the only small-scale, diversified farm that has looked at October and frosty nights as a good and very welcome thing.  After a long season with all of its ups and downs, we're often ready for a last big push before we can - maybe - breathe a little bit more freely.  Once the killing frost takes out some of the veggie crops that are still doing something for us, we can let go of them and move on.  In a very real way, it is an event that grants permission to farmers, such as ourselves, to accept what has happened for the year and, as we prepare for Winter, begin to turn to the hope of a new season instead of slogging through the troubles of the current one.

But this year?  This year has been very different for me and I don't exactly feel the same way.  In fact, I am not entirely sure how I feel about this Fall.

I guess I'll let you know once that first frost actually arrives.

Seven Years

I was trying to find a particular photo and I came across a picture of our farm from 2013.  It shows the view from the edge of the fields we call the "Eastfarthing" looking back towards our house.  The road is at the left, the old barn and the pasture that runs to the East of that barn is to the right.  The photo is from the end of April, so the grass is green, but the trees aren't really leafing out much.

As I looked at it, I couldn't help but notice how different things are now.
 

2013 (above)

 2020 (above)

 The 2020 photo is from a similar location.  I can tell you I was a little bit closer and a bit further to the South (left).  And, this photo is from mid-May, so there are flowers and more leaves.

There are some differences that make me a bit sad (the two larger ash trees have died - for example) and other changes that make me happy (look how much the spruces have grown and how much more taller greenery there is).  Some of the change is intentional (what nice siding we have now!) and some of it is not (hmmm.  we've let a bunch of trees take hold near where the old barn was).

But, overall, I like what I see.  There is more cover instead of a flat lawn with minimal habitat or breaks in the flat ground.  I will admit that some of it is not taking shape the way I would like it to take shape, but it feels more natural overall.  If I were a bird, or a butterfly, or a frog... I might like this place more now than I would have in 2013.

Of course, we can't let ourselves give the 2020 picture too much credit because it WAS taken later in the season.  But, you can see a bit more willingness to let things be... appropriately wild in places.  Again, some of this is by choice and some is because that's just how things have landed as we traverse time at the Genuine Faux Farm.

Since it is a living farm, it will be interesting to see how this picture changes in the next few years.  I hope I like the overall feel then even more than what I see now.  I know we'll do what we can to make that happen.

Identification Please

"[E]veryone tells a story about themselves inside their own head.  Always.  All the time.  That story makes you what you are.  We build ourselves out of that story."  

Bast to Chronicler in "Name of the Wind" by Patrick Rothfuss.

I distinctly remember a moment in time when I was working on my doctoral thesis that I realized that my story - the one I told myself - had just changed.  I am not sure if there was a particular driving event, but I simply understood that I was no longer an individual who wanted to achieve completion of a PhD.  Instead, I knew I was a person who had earned that PhD and it was simply a matter of dotting i's and crossing t's from that point forward.

It was also at that time that I realized that many doctoral committees are simply waiting for the student to come to this conclusion.  Once a student begins to identify as someone who belongs in the group of people who have moved on to the 'next step,' then it is time to facilitate moving to that next step.

Of course, the transition from student to academic with an earned degree wasn't instantaneous as that.  There were still days that I told myself a story of uncertainty.  Was I just an imposter trying to be something and somebody else?    But, over time, the story gained clarity and I became someone who belonged, more or less, in academia.  I say "more or less" because part of my story I told myself was that there were some traits attributed to academics that I didn't want applied to me.  So, I told myself a story of how I was 'my own kind' of academic.  I also say "more or less" because, like most people, there were plenty of moments where I still thought this all must be some sort of colossal mistake...

When we moved to the Genuine Faux Farm, I had to adjust the story I told myself.  I was an academic waiting for the opportunity that was certain to come along.  In the meantime, I adjusted my story to begin re-inserting parts of myself that had 'gone on vacation' while I concentrated whole-heartedly to complete my education.  I also introduced new ideas and new concepts into my story.

Eventually, I became "Farmer Rob."  Once again, there was plenty of learning to do.  There were numerous occasions where I was not sure I was anything better than an imposter.  But, there came a moment when I knew that the Farmer Rob story was, in fact, who I was.  I belonged, more or less, in a community of people who worked hard to grow food for others.

Before you get the wrong idea, let me make it clear that a strong story does not mean there aren't moments of self-doubt and uncertainty.  That's simply part of my story of being human and imperfect.  This subplot is what keeps me looking to learn - keeps me questioning and pushing to do better - no matter what the rest of the plot for the story is.

Apparently, I am still building my story - the one that tells me who I am.  I've worked so hard at building Farmer Rob over the past sixteen years that it is a little disconcerting for me to consider that I might not be Farmer Rob in the future.  For the time being, at least, I am still Farmer Rob - just a different version of the same person.  We believe there is some sort of farming in our future next year and, perhaps, years to come.  It is just highly likely to be different than it has been up to this point.

You see, reinvention of the Genuine Faux Farm requires reinvention of the farmer.  I wonder what the farm and this farmer is going to be like?  I wonder if I'll have to ask to see his identification?

Is It Just Me?

I was in the mood for selecting an older farm picture to see what I could see.  The problem is - we don't have all that many photos of the farm prior to 2010.  That has something to do with no access to a digital camera.  When you had to develop film, you tended to be much more deliberate with your picture taking!

Apparently, at some point in 2007, we had brief access to a digital camera and I found a few pictures from that year, most of them taken during one of our "Tom Sawyer Days" where we invited volunteers to come help at the farm.  It was a good idea that worked for us for a few years until interest in them waned.

At the time this photo was taken, our biggest piece of equipment was a lawn tractor with a rototiller attachment.  We still set ourselves up for multiple farmers markets, our CSA number was 40-50 shares and I believe I was still doing a little adjunct teaching at Wartburg College that fall.  

My remembrance of how things looked at that time has been clouded somewhat by time, but I seem to recall trees, plants and wildlife being more vibrant than they are now.  I realize we all have a tendency to glorify the past.  But, I look at this picture and see enough that makes me feel that I just might be right.

Is it just me?

Please note that I am not saying I want to go back to 2007.  That is not the point.  The point is, I've been feeling as if the land is growing ill and has been losing its look of glowing health.  Is it because I am becoming jaded or am I observing something real?  

Sadly, the science says I just might be observing something real.  I'd like to work to reverse the process.  And, I'd like you to join me.

Not Going to Happen

Other than the fact that we had a problem with a plane spraying half of our farm, 2012 was a pretty good growing year for us.  Not all that surprising to me is the fact that 2012 was also the last time we had drought conditions in our area.  Our farm's soil and layout is such that we can do better in a drier year than a wetter year.  Though I admit it would be best if we got some nice soaking rains now and again.

I mentioned 2012 mostly because the photo you see at the top of this post is from that year.  We harvested over 100 of these beautiful Long Island Cheese pumpkins that year.  We harvested over 1000 pounds of green beans and over 800 pounds of lettuce.  All in all, we had a pretty good year if you remove the crops that were destroyed by spray from consideration.  For that matter, even the crops we had to destroy did pretty darned well (much to our chagrin).

Here we are in the year 2020.  Tammy and I made some important decisions that we would be reducing production this year for all sorts of reasons.   Then, Rob took a job with Pesticide Action Network, a pandemic happened and we had no one working on the farm with us.  That's a really quick way to reduce your capacity for vegetable production and sales.

We have, thus far, managed to maintain the same level of meat poultry production (one more week for the broilers!) and we still have plenty of laying hens - including a new flock for the coming seasons.  But, there won't be pictures like the one above this year.  There likely will not be a "Veggie Varieties of the Year" post either.  Although - it is tradition, maybe I'll find a way to muddle through it this year.

The point is this - we have grown used to harvesting tons of produce (literally) each and every season since we started.  This year, I suspect we'll have maybe a dozen pumpkins (for example).  We'll probably have far more peppers than we (or anyone we sell to) will need.  I just have no reason to put out a crop report like I have so many other times - whether people actually cared or not!

Do me a favor and go look at that crop report post.  Look at some of those numbers we set for goals on a regular basis.  And then you'll get an idea of why I might be feeling a bit lost this September.

Part of me is relieved.  Working that hard and trying to push to grow, harvest, clean, pack and deliver that much produce multiple times a week can be stressful and tiring.  This year, we have simply grown what we are able to - and if something doesn't happen - it doesn't happen.  Now, I am realizing we won't have any broccoli or cauliflower this year.  Normally, we would plant two to three successions of those crops with the understanding that you will miss your timing at least once and lose a succession.  We planted one succession this year - and missed the timing.

We never did find a window of workable soil that combined with available time to plant onions.  

It was all about not dedicating the same amount of time (and of ourselves) to growing produce.  And I miss seeing the fruits (again literally) of those labors.  I miss being able to say that we harvested 5900 cucumbers or 790 pounds of broccoli.  

We still have peppers, tomatoes, eggplant, winter squash, beets, carrots and some other things that are still plugging along at the farm.  There are still 1500 or so garlic hanging up in the truck barn as we speak and a couple hundred pounds of potatoes.  It's just that it isn't what it was - and we're trying to figure out where we go from this point.  But, that is a set of questions we will address as we progress through the Fall months, with final decisions happening in December.  For now, all we can say is that the pictures of the tremendous bounty of produce from the Genuine Faux Farm this Fall are not going to happen.

Maybe we'll get some late crops into the high tunnels and surprise ourselves a bit, maybe we won't.  It's not the same as it was.  And maybe that's ok.  And perhaps that is the way it is supposed to be.  

I wonder how we will re-invent ourselves in 2021?

It Really Looked Like That?

Sometimes I look at older pictures of the farm to get inspiration for a post.  Here are a few juxtapositions that others might find interesting.

The Barn...

When we first moved to the farm, the barn was in reasonable shape, but the roof was not.  Anyone who has lived on a farm knows that, when a roof goes, the building follows soon after if something isn't done.

We actually used the barn for a few seasons as the night-time shelter for poultry.  And, we investigated getting the roof fix - until we found out how much THAT would cost.  We looked into some grant and other funding ideas and just never could get it all to come together.

 Things look a good deal different now.  Of course, the first picture was during Spring and this one is before anything greens up.  The area around the barn isn't being kept up right now and we've allowed some bushes and trees to grow.  The entire West section of the barn is now down (you are looking at the East section in this photo).

Farmhouse and Outbuildings
Some changes are for the good and some can be sad.  I'm going to leave both photos near each other so you can do a "find all of the different things in the picture" puzzle with them.

2008

2020

There have been many changes for the good over the years.  As many who read the blog know, the house has undergone a transformation this Winter as we have torn off two layers of old siding and replaced it with new.  You might also notice the roof on the house.  What else do you see?

2008

One of the things in this picture that is sad is the large tree at the right of the house.  Sadly, this gorgeous tree was the result of someone letting a tree grow for decades into the foundation of the garage.  As a Silver Maple, it was a quick grower and had great potential for breaking and falling on things...  maybe not a quality we wanted for that exact location.  On the other hand, we liked the birds it brought to us - and the shade - and the feel.  But, it threatened to come down and take many other things with it - so we arranged to have it come down in a 'mostly' controlled fashion.

Over the years we have done our best to add trees and bushes.  Some of them have seemed to take pretty well to their locations.  Others, not so much.  But, we'll keep trying.  Because that's what we do.

Busy as a Bee Hive?

It is no secret that there has been some activity at the farm over the past few weeks.  We have continued with our campaign to address significant problems with the farm house and the current focus has been on replacing the deteriorating siding (two layers of it) with new.  This, of course, means we have to address rot and other issues as we find them.  We realize there are some people out there (and I suspect you know who you are) that want to see what sort of progress is being made. 

The good news?  There has been progress!


Sometimes progress looks a bit like regression.  Ok... sometimes it FEELS like it too.  And, it can get a bit nippy when the wind picks up out here.  But, we are within shouting distance of getting the North side finished as well!  Tammy and Rob have been doing tear-off and Travis and Rory of Duncan Home Services work to make it look good after that.


While we are at it, you might remember that we had a couple of "Pooofs" this past Summer that did a little damage.  It was a little un-nerving to watch the metal on the Poultry Pavilion ripple and emulate the ocean's waves during one of those poofs.  A second poof not long after the first sent several panels flying.

Well, December was the month of making things right.  The guys at J.D. Builders did a nice job, I think.  We had some insurance coverage to help pay for this AND we fully realize that if it were only Rob doing the work, it would take much more than two days.

Much MUCH more than two days.


And, we wanted to show you that we are also making progress on the rest of the house... even though it might look more like regression at the point these pictures were taken. 

All of this is not without some backlash.

Bree says, "I have a drill, a toolbox and a cooler.  Stop the insanity or I will be forced to use them!"

The GFF Solar Project: Long Time Coming

 I was in 7th grade when I first 'researched' the options for solar energy.  At that time, it seemed as if solar would gain traction and become a viable option for rapid expansion as a major supplier for the power grid.  People were gaining direct exposure to solar power with the proliferation of inexpensive solar calculators (among other things) and the future seemed, quite literally, bright for alternative energy. 

1982 US stamp series featuring various 'energy sources'

Of course, some of the reason for all of the push was the rapid increase in oil prices during the 1970's.  But, we humans are fickle creatures and our attention spans can be notoriously short.  Oil prices fell in the mid 1980's and the pressure to promote alternative energy sources declined.  My old solar calculator still resides in our cash box during CSA distributions and continues to do a fine job.  And, Tammy and I have continued to pursue the dream of supporting alternative energy production - even though it has been a long journey.  And, that journey is not quite over.

Site for new solar panels at Genuine Faux Farm

We actually started to explore solar options for our farm in 2006, when we attended a couple of informational sessions in Decorah.  As is the case for so many things like this, we were going to have to revisit the process multiple times before we were ready to move forward.  We went so far as to have a site assessment and estimate in 2009.  That project was for 4 to 5 kiloWatt Hours and it was quickly superseded by other critical projects on the farm (such as a new furnace).  As it was, the cost was above what we could reasonably pay, even though we were willing to stretch to accomplish the goal.
 

Eagle Point Solar put in the GFF Solar Array

University of Northern Iowa's CEEE had a Farm Energy Working Group active in 2012 and we decided, once again, to go through the process of exploring our options.  This time, we were able to do a full site evaluation and report with the grant support provided by this program.  We were able to identify two possible site locations on the farm and we had a much better idea as to what it would take to accomplish our goals to power the farm using renewable resources.  But, once again, life intervened.  Our money had to go to other expenses that were more critical (ah, life in an old farm house!) and we simply ran out of time to follow up on the next steps of the project.

 And, here we are in 2019.  Tammy and I had our own little GFF Farm Retreat and we both put solar among the 'big projects' each of us had on our minds for the future of the farm.  Perhaps, just as importantly, we identified the need to make our farm into a place where we wanted to live instead of a place we tolerated living at.  While we grant you that the solar project was not a 'critical item' on the same level as 'make a kitchen that doesn't have a hole in the floor that leads directly to the basement' it still held an important place for us.  Why?  Because it is a part of who we are and a part of what we think is the right direction for the Genuine Faux Farm.

As is normally the case, the farm and everything else began to take precedence and the solar project was on hold until we heard about a possible "group buy" through Eagle Point Solar that could reduce the cost of new solar projects in the Black Hawk (and surrounding county) area.  We attended the introductory meeting and decided to go through the process.  If Eagle Point could keep the ball rolling, then we were going to try to give this a go this time around.

Nothing is ever as simple as you think it should be.  But, then again, if it were easy, you would have to question if the project were really worth doing.  Ok.  Maybe you wouldn't question it.  But, I would. 

We initially thought we could pursue a REAP grant to help with funding until we discussed it with a professional grant writer who as done multiple REAP grants.  Lets just say that REAP grants are NOT geared for farms our size and leave it at that.  It also turns out that the best location for solar on our property crosses the two parcels we own.  This required us to go through some legal processes to get that fixed so we could proceed with the identified location.  And, of course, there was/is the financing.

Installation was mostly complete after one day.

After one full day and a small portion of a second day, the solar array is installed on the farm.  We are now awaiting Alliant Energy as they must hook the panels to the power lines.  Once they do that, there are other processes before they 'flip the switch' and all is operational.  We have to admit that the build occurred far earlier than we were thinking it would - such is life when schedules of others are involved.  The farm had been using this area as our seedling nursery and cold frame area.  Needless to say, that had to be cleaned up before they could build.

At this point, it would be safe to say that the two of us are both pleased and in denial.  We have believed that this was the right thing to do for many years and we finally have an opportunity to follow through.  But, it's been in the works for so long and we have had so many false starts that it is difficult to bring ourselves to believe that this is actually happening.  We would like to share more with everyone about this project on our blog as we find time - so consider this a PART ONE blog post. 

And here's to worthwhile projects.