Farmside Stories: Intro to Short Story Collection by Stephanie Bartel

Farm stories are like tax returns...no wait come back, it gets better!

I was just going to say that I was musing the other day about the need to put a little distance between me and some of the stories I’d like to tell from my early years at Old Plank Farm. Something like 3-7 years, or about the length of time one hangs onto one’s tax returns. So many events, from mundane to embarrassing and everything in between, are woven into this farm’s history with hardly a second thought. Until, years later, I step back in my mind and remember some of the things that have shaped this farm. More often than not, I now find my memories of the early years to be amusing or at least enjoyable, although that’s not always how I felt when living through those times. The change is not in the memory itself, but in the time passed and the growth along with it. If tax returns are meant to be saved for 3-7 years before being thrown into the trash then farm stories are best saved for a similar time before being thrown out into the world. 

This collection of very short stories that I have started and will share here one at a time in the coming weeks has little to do with the day-to-day happenings at Old Plank Farm (you can continue to find current events in our weekly newsletter and the “Announcements” section of our website’s Bulletin Board). These are like snap shots taken during the farm’s early, most formative years. They are short and easy to read, sometimes rough around the edges, and drawn up in no firm order from the first 12 years of Old Plank Farm.

I’ve hesitated before to start something like this because I am first and foremost your farmer, committed to excellence and expertise as an organic grower. What good would it do to tell you about the rootbeer incident or Potato Saturdays or toilet paper weed or bringing Lucy home or any number of events that dot our lives on this farm? I sincerely hope that the vegetables we grow--last year, this coming year, in all future seasons--are the best you’ve eaten and that what you receive from us is truly excellent and adds to your healthy lifestyle. That is the purpose of Old Plank Farm and is the ongoing focus of my work here. The harvest side of this life is what we offer you each week in the form of a CSA box filled with vegetables. But the farm side of life here is yours to share in too, if you wish to read my weekly newsletter column. To do so, please sign up for our newsletter using the form at the bottom of our Home Page.

My memory is considered irritatingly sharp by some people who know me (Yes, Ralph, I still remember your bank account password...I can’t help it, don’t tell me things!). Nonetheless, my first story wrestles with the nature of memory itself and some of its inevitable flaws. In this way I’ll tumble down the proverbial hill right off the bat, from which point I can get up and go just about anywhere. And I will. Every story is a product of my memory, my experience, my perspective, and the occasional written record or photo. I’ll change some names, as a respectful storyteller often does, even though I hope that many of the people who have colored the seasons here would enjoy being included in the collection.

Next Week: ‘Remembering the Door’.

The Dog and the Pigalog

I received a new catalog in the mail yesterday. It's titled "New Pig: Leak and Spill Pigalog." At first glance, I was a bit offended that they selected me to receive it. Without even opening it I can tell they think I'm a messy sort of person. "Spill Kit, Absorbent Sock, Spill Containment Pallet, Leak Diverter..." are just some of what's advertised on the front cover alone. Not a very flattering invitation to shop more. Then again, maybe they saw me trip over the dog's water dish that very morning, and they sent the catalog express? Or perhaps they know about the rootbeer incident? But that was over a year ago and the only witnesses were another farmer, the truck driver and again, the dog.

I looked around the room. At the moment only the dog was there watching, his innocent stare unsettling. Is he sending out for catalogs when I'm not around?

When I turned the catalog over I saw it was addressed to Old Plank Farm. Well of course, that's okay because a farm would make the list for this sort of new catalog, I suppose. It's not personal, just business.

The farm receives a lot of catalogs this time of year. Seed catalogs make up the bulk of these. Even though our seed orders have already arrived for the coming season, I still enjoy looking at the ads for delicious new varieties of vegetables being offered. We also get supply catalogs, which provide us with growing and harvest tools, irrigation parts, and packing supplies. The pictures in these aren't as lucious as the seed catalogs', but they are practical and informative. This week I am working on our supply orders during the day and drooling over seed catalogs in the evening. The pigalog isn’t likely to make the cut.

We aren't waiting until a few days before we need supplies to put in an order, especially not in a year where supply chains and shipping may be a bit slower than usual. Nor do we ever wait until June to start farming. Vegetable farming has year round planning, work, and expenses. In order to deliver onions to our members during the harvest season, we need to order the seeds in December, order the potting mix and planting trays in January, start the seeds in February, heat and water them in March, transplant them into the field in April, weed and water them in May and June, harvest them in July and August, dry the storage varieties in September, and continue to deliver them all through October. And that's just one of our 35+ crops! Farmers are always thinking ahead and doing work that won't reap rewards until sometime in the future. 

You don't have to be a farmer to think ahead like one. I hope you'll consider signing up early if you want to become a member of our farm this season. Don't wait until June when the veggies are ready for harvest, because they will already be spoken for. Sign up today and your membership will help support all the work we do here to bring you boxes of veggies during the 20 week harvest season. Many of our returning members have already signed up, and it’s thanks to you that we are well prepared for the season ahead.

I guess I don’t blame the dog for the new Pigalog sent to us. Nor do I think he’ll blab about the rootbeer incident. But if we get a Sheepalog in the mail any time soon, this border collie is going to have some questions to answer!

So many resources for vegetable farmers! Our favorites, Hillcrest Supply and FEDCO Seeds are not pictured, because they are also the most shared catalogs!

Skiing Through the Tomatoes

There is little to mark the coming of the New Year at Old Plank Farm. It arrives quietly, as do most days in December and January. A blanket of snow hides the vegetable fields right now, adding to the stillness that surrounds me here. When I walk, or preferably ski, through the blanketed fields it feels like being on an empty stage in a large and dark auditorium, where the performers have left but their energy still remains. This was especially true when I skied up the snow-covered pathway that only months ago was the setting for our tomato patch, the busiest part of our farm. 

The five beds of last season’s tomato patch were split by a path wide enough to bring our tractor and harvest wagon through. There were three beds west of the path and two beds east of the path that I skied down. Along each bed were reminders of summer: wooden tomato stakes, trellis twine and dead tomato vines poking out of the snow. This is one part of the field that we didn't clean up last fall. It is easy work to do in the spring, so we left it for next year and focused on building our new seeding greenhouse instead. 

Each tomato bed was 600 feet long. It's not a very long way to go when traveling on skis, but it is a journey that takes many hours when traveling by cherry tomato pints, moving from one plant to the next. At the height of the season the fruit ripens so fast that by the time we get to the end of a bed there is already fruit back at the beginning that is ready to pick. Tomato picking, and especially cherry tomato picking, are among the most labor-intensive chores on our farm, and so this is where the largest crew convened the most often. It is center stage in our field, although it's precise location changes from year to year as we rotate the crops. 

As I skied along the snowy tomato path I pictured the bright green plants, red ripe fruits, and the people who worked among them. First I thought of Martin, crouched among the plants as clearly as if it was a hot July day. He was usually wearing a brightly colored long-sleeve shirt and khaki pants and hustling through his row filling tomato containers. He is a fast picker, and an even faster talker. Chinese is his first language, but English is a close second. I love listening to Martin's stories because they are usually about cooking and eating delicious food, a favorite topic and pastime among our crew. We have a rule here that there is to be no talking about food before 9am, which someone invariably breaks each morning. The excuses are always the same: we were talking about breakfast food which doesn’t count, or we don't know what time it is, or it's 9 o clock somewhere. Talking about food always makes me hungry, but at least sometimes there is something close by to snack on the rest of the morning, like cherry tomatoes. There was nothing to eat under the snow, but homemade tomato soup awaited me after skiing. Tomato soup and chili are staples right now.

Further up the row I imagined Mirianne and Kristin working opposite each other as they moved along, tomato containers in hand and lively discussion in mind. Mirianne often wore plaid flannel shirts, worn-out pants and a large straw hat, nearly identical to my usual attire. Kristin often wore overalls and a plaid shirt. I ski in my winter overalls, and occasionally the September mornings are cold enough that I wear them in the field while picking the last of the summer fruit. In summer--at their peak--it is easiest to pick one side of a tomato plant at a time, and leave the other side to another picker. The plants are so large and bushy that it's impossible to reach around them, which is why we often work in pairs. It's also a nice chance to partner up and solve the problems of the world, which I always imagined Mirianne and Kristin were doing as they plucked the fruit off the vines hour after hour.

While Mirianne and Kristin seemed bent toward deep and intelligent conversation, my usual picking buddy--Oscar--and I were more inclined to compete, argue, annoy or challenge each other as endlessly as the endless tomato harvest. When we were occasionally more agreeable or simply bored with our usual chatter, we'd collaborate making up pointless poems and songs. "Row, row row your butt gently down the row" lilted through my head as I skied past the long-dead tomato plants that we would row through as we picked. I did not interrupt the quiet winter stage by singing aloud as I would do while harvesting. Summer sounds in a winter scene contrast as sharply as a red tomato would in a winter snow. 

Moving along, I imagined Mirianne’s son, "Sunshine," who is our champion cherry tomato picker. He’d sit alongside the plants on the main path, picking and eating and taking care to tightly close each container as he finished filling it. His movements were deliberate and careful when he snapped each container closed. He seemed to take pride in doing a good job. Sunshine is 30 years old now, but he has a mental disability leaving him with the intellectual capabilities of a 4-6 year old. He can’t tie shoes, cook, or pronounce words very well, but he has incredible patience and the sunniest spirit I’ve ever met. And he loves to pick the tomatoes, a skill more special than the ability to tie shoes. Several weeks after the last harvest was finished Sunshine continued to ask about picking the tomatoes each day. One day he saw some empty pint containers in the corner of the packing shed and his face lit up and he asked about when we were going to pick the tomatoes. It’s hard to explain the harvest timeline, or any timeline, to a man who salutes us after lunch each afternoon by saying “Bye! See you next year!” As I skied I began looking forward to when next year’s crop will be ready for harvest and Sunshine can once again get back to living his best life, which is the way his mom and sister often described his work on the farm.

Many other dedicated workers live in my memory of the busy harvest mornings of 2020. Sabrina, June, Tanya, Beth, Cindy, and Joy were also on my mind as I skied along in silence and solitude. Those cherry tomatoes certainly don’t pick themselves.

Meanwhile, Angelica bounces in and out of the summer scene in the tomato patch. While she spent many hours picking tomatoes like me and everyone else, she also was most often the one to haul the harvest back to the packing shed. As our CSA manager, she’d juggle all the responsibilities of a harvest morning along with the daily grind of picking. She is now in her 7th season here at Old Plank Farm and our CSA program couldn’t be in better hands. It is my responsibility to grow our crops and it is her responsibility to get them harvested, packed and distributed to all our members each week. The tracks her harvest tractor made back and forth out of the tomato patch are the same that I followed on my skis, hugging the south side of the field and heading back in along the path through the woods. 

I look forward to when our fields come alive again with plants and people. With the new year officially here, it seems our new season is just around the corner. I hope it is a fruitful one for this farm, its workers, and you! Happy 2021!

Beetie's Night Before Christmas Poem

A repost from 2018, because it’s one of my favorites! Along with a new photo of our recently completed seeding greenhouse, finished just in time for last weekend’s snow!

T'was the night before Christmas, all through the greenhouse,

Just one creature was stirring, it was a fat pesky mouse.

A mouse trap was set by the veggies with care,

In hopes that the pest wouldn't eat all that's there.

The farmers were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of cabbages danced in their heads.

And Beetie in the root cellar in his night cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

When by the greenhouse there arose such a clatter,

Beetie rushed outside to see what was the matter.

Through the deep snow he did leap and then dash,

When he got to the greenhouse he threw up the sash.

The moon through the plastic gave off a strange glow

To the carrots and salad that all lay below.

Beetie looked at the roof and what should appear

But a big heavy sleigh and eight grass-fed reindeer.

The little old driver was not very quick,

Soon the reindeer had poked holes in the rooftop plastic.

More rapid than rainstorms Beetie called him by name,

And down from the roof they quickly all came.

"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Beetie, now Vixen!

These holes in the greenhouse, oh how can we fix 'em?"

"Get the poly-patch tape on the garden shed wall,

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

St. Nick looked for the tape by moonlight from the sky,

When at last it was found a half hour'd gone by.

The carrots were cold, now that much he knew,

These farmers should get organized, he realized too.

He gave the tape to Beetie, who jumped to the roof,

St. Nick watched from below, as if he needed some proof.

The legend of this beet had been told all around,

But seeing him there raised his faith by a bound.

A beet who was brave from his head to his foot,

Who protected Old Plank veggies from smog and from soot.

A bundle of compost he'd fling on his back,

And if a veggie cried out he'd open his pack.

His eyes, they were beady! His smile how merry!

He was healthier than carrots or even a cherry!

Beetie's fresh greens were all bunched in a bow,

Those greens are the healthiest part, don't you know.

Our hero held the poly patch tape in his teeth,

The holes were soon fixed while Santa watched from beneath.

When Beetie was done he slid down on his belly,

The elf caught him before he could splat into jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly young beet,

St. Nick laughed when he held him from head to his feet!

A wink of Beetie's eye and a twist of his head,

Let St. Nicholas know there's still a task before bed.

Inside the greenhouse, Beetie went straight to work,

Harvesting some carrots; then he turned with a jerk.

They're for the good little children St. Nicholas knows,

He loads his pack heavy then outside he goes!

He sprang to his sleigh, the deer stopped eating thistle.

And away they all flew when he let out a whistle.

But he heard Beetie exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and eat your veggies this night!"

The Post Season Clock

The vegetable season is over at Old Plank Farm. Here's how post season usually starts out for me:

Day 1: Get around to breathing, finally. It feels good to breathe; forgot to do that a few times during the hectic harvest season. Enjoy the silence and lack of activity.

Day 2: Sit at the kitchen table and stare at the wall. Occasionally stare at the ceiling. Check clock to see if it's April yet. Clock says 8:06. Approximately four hours later check again to find it says 8:07.

Day 3: Begin to adjust to the rhythm and pace of the winter season. Get excited about off-season farm work, creative projects, reading books, and resting. Plan to write a book. Nothing speeds up the clock like planning to write a book.

And after a few more days, spend a little time reflecting on the 2020 season. How can I sum up our summer? Hot, humid, and enough melons to go around (although one more round of cantaloupes would have been nice, I know!). I am always driven to improve upon each season, but those notes mostly belong on the winter to-do lists. My thoughts today are more focused on gratitude for yet another year on the farm. This was my 12th season at Old Plank Farm, which is enough seasons under my belt to say that I’m starting to feel a bit old! 

Every year I am most grateful for the support from all our CSA members who enjoyed the farm’s produce. Thanks to all the members who sent thank-you emails and even cards in the mail, they were all appreciated. The purpose of the work we do here is to contribute to your good health, this year more than ever. Managing a diversified vegetable garden would lose so much of it's value without the farmer-member relationship we share with you (even if we never connect to you directly, you are a part of our lives every week as we pack up your veggie box!).

This year I am especially grateful that my crew and I managed to stay healthy and free of Covid-19, allowing us to get our work done and safely deliver vegetables to our members every week during the harvest season. I'm also thankful that we had generally good vegetable growing weather and a wide range of delicious crops to share. The spring and fall carrots were beautiful, our new potato harvest was the earliest we’ve ever had, and the yellow watermelons were as sweet as always! Most weeks’ CSA boxes were average or above-average in terms of value and quality. I think that's as much as any organic farmer can ask of their garden, given the never-ending uncertainty and stresses involved in this line of work. 

Things we are planning to improve for next year mostly relate to making field work more efficient. Improving our transplanting and cultivating equipment (mostly homemade rigs), will help improve our yields and reduce farmer stress. We also want to give more attention and resources to crops that are regularly difficult for us. Most notable are the mid-season carrots/beets and the late-season lettuces and brassicas. Improving these crops will help us achieve more variety in the weekly CSA boxes, which is always one of our goals. Meanwhile, Angelica is also busy raking through our 2020 fieldnotes workbook for more ideas on what we might change in 2021. 

As I wrap this up, I notice that the clock is working a little better now. It will likely be a quiet winter ahead, for myself and most people I know. But whatever your plans, I hope you can eat well this winter, stay healthy, and join us next spring for another season of Old Plank Farm vegetables. We’ll be in touch regularly in the coming months with updates about our 2021 CSA program and more. In the meantime, thanks again for being a part of Old Plank Farm in 2020!

2020 Old Plank Farm Crew, taking a day off. Left to Right: Angelica, Sunshine, Mirianne, Sabrina, Stephanie and Oscar. We THANK YOU for supporting our farm!