A Farmer in the Kitchen
“Happy Birthday, Farmer Sam!” exclaimed the ruddy-cheeked child, placing his hand-drawn birthday card on the table as he came through the lunch line.
Surprised, I beamed at the student as I surveyed the drawing, “Thank you very much!”
It’s been three weeks since I started as Head Cook at the local elementary school and already I’ve trained students and staff to refer to me as Farmer Sam, lol. I may be working in the kitchen, but I’m a farmer wherever I go. Join me at Runamuk Acres to find out how we’ve been doing with this new transition!
Welcome to the latest Updates From the Farm! If you are new here, I invite you to check out my About page to learn what this is, who I am and why I am doing this. Or just dive right in! At “Runamuk Acres” you’ll find the recantings of one lady-farmer and tree-hugging activist from the western mountains of Maine. #foodieswanted
You can take the farmer off the farm, but you can’t take the farm out of the farmer.
I admit, I’ve been wrestling some guilt and disappointment for not being able to make a living from farming alone (who needs 6 incomes streams!?). For having to step back for the sake of my own physical, mental and financial well-being. For giving even a portion of my time to something other than the work I feel to be my divine calling.
Yet, it is my hope that this change will benefit the farm in the long-run. An influx of funds is needed to sustain the project for the future. So, we’re making it work.
Adjustment
BraeTek has stepped up in a big way and I couldn’t be more grateful or proud of the young man he’s become. I’ll run onto the field with the car to drop hay, but BraeTek is the one shouldering the bulk of the morning critter-chores.
Then, he’ll spend the day plugging away at the list of projects I leave on the chalkboard for him. In his senior year, BraeTek enjoys baking and cooking and has voluntarily offered to take on our evening dinners. He’s cooked more dinners than I have these last few weeks!
Honestly, I think it's Murphy who's had the hardest time with this adjustment. 12yo my black lab already had some separation anxiety and having found himself a stray at one point early on in his life, I think he's never quite gotten over that initial abandonment.
According to BraeTek, he begins fussing around midday, anxious for my return and begging to be let outside so he can wait in the driveway. When I finally pull in around 1:30-2 he whines and cries, throwing himself upon me like I’ve been lost and gone for months. Then, for the rest of the evening and all through the weekend, he watches me like a hawk to make sure I will not leave him behind again.
Sacrifices
On the farm and writing end of things, I’ve had to make sacrifices in order to be off the farm 7-8 hours a day. My early morning writing sessions have effectively been cut in half, and I’m having to push hard when I get home in the afternoon to knock out a project or two on behalf of the farm.
Pssssst—Don’t tell anyone, but for years, I’ve enjoyed a daily power-nap during my lunchbreak—right on the couch with Murphy curled up behind my legs. I’ve kept it secret, fearing the stigma associated with napping. I never want to be thought unworthy of this farm.
When your day begins at 3am, however, a 20-30 minute snooze can make all the difference. For this farmer, it has long been the key to my ability to accomplish so much. Now, in order to get that 1 farm-project done in the afternoon, I’ve had to sacrifice my daily snooze.
Retraining my body to cope with the increased workload and less rest, my days run from 3am to 8 or 9pm.
Already the farm suffers without it’s farmer. I had a massive to-do list to begin with, but now that I am away the better part of each day, I’m falling further behind. The mandatory tasks, like the daily critter-chores and rotating the sheep on the field are prioritized. Then, I squeeze in a high-priority project (mainly winter prep at this point) in the afternoons and on the weekend. The garden has all but been abandoned and the local deer are capitalizing on the reduced farmer-presence.
My early morning writing sessions have effectively been cut in half, and I’ve seen a decrease in my own creativity in tandem with my body’s fatigue. Thus, if you’re seeing less of my writing recently, this is why. I’m just writing less at the moment and not overly inspired, as I’m processing a lot of feelings surrounding my new off-farm job.
Determined to make it work, however, I’m still showing up at 3am every morning to write. It is my hope that by maintaining consistency, I can train my body and my mind to accept this new norm and continue the work that I feel called to do. I’m also hoping that I’ll be able to give more time to writing in the afternoons and evenings, once we get into winter and farming is on hiatus.
So don’t you give up on me!!!
In case you missed it, here is a piece I published last week:
The Crisis of Vanishing Farmland
Ongoing Mid-Life Transition
This has been a big change for your friendly neighborhood farmer. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so adamant at school that I still identify as a “Farmer Sam”. My pronouns are not she/her—but farmer/writer.
Yet, I see this as part of my ongoing mid-life transition. In which, I am farming more for my own self-reliance than to feed my community. And my work is becoming more about conservation than farming.
Honestly, farming has never been exceedingly profitable for me. I just cannot produce enough on my own—as a solo lady-farmer of little means—to generate the funds needed to grow the farm to a scale that would see it financially solvent and sustainable.
That’s why I’ve had to create multiple income streams to support it.
It is still my hope that writing can one day fill that need, but with winter on the doorstep and taxes past-due, something had to be done. Impulsively, I applied for the position of Head Cook at the Kingfield Elementary School and this week I received my first paycheck! Wooooooooo!
A Farmer in the Kitchen
“But-why do they call you Farmer Sam?” the girl asked me.
“Because I have a farm,” I said with pride. “I raise sheep and chickens, and I grow vegetables to feed people.”
In the kitchen, I get precious few moments with the children, but I’m loving it. Kingfield has a wonderfully small school, and a large percentage of the students bring their lunch from home. So I’m only feeding about 60 kids on average, and only pre-K through 4th grades. The kids come in from the playground ruddy-cheeked and free spirited, and I am there to feed them. It’s a great gig.
IF you can overlook the food itself…
As a farmer and someone who has touted local food, real ingredients and scratch-cooking, it was something of a shock to see the quality of food our government assigns to the nation’s children. It’s all highly processed, heat-and-serve food-like substances we are feeding these kids.
Even the salad bar—the one thing I can feel good about preparing and serving these children—is the most mainstream of fruits and vegetables. Everything is sourced via big-AG and it shows in the quality of the produce.
And don’t get me started on the government meats!
Sigh…maybe it’s just me. I’ve gone so far down the rabbit hole, it’s hard to come back to this level. Maybe in some parts of the country this is stellar fare. Maybe the cooking ability of the average parent is such that the food I am serving these kids really is better than what these kids are getting at home. Who am I to say?
I’m someone who knows better—that’s who. And I say: “We can do better, America.”
Sending light and love to you and yours.
Your friendly neighborhood farmer,
Sam
Thank you for following along with the story of this lady-farmer! It is truly a privilege to live this life serving my family and community, and protecting wildlife through agricultural conservation. Check back soon for more updates from the farm, and be sure to follow @RunamukAcres on Instagram or Facebook!
My father started out as a farmer but had a degree in Vocational Agriculture. Which basically meant he was a Agri Teacher. He would farm in the early morning go teach and come home and work his farm. At the time he was raising cotton and soybeans. He also took a teaching job teaching veterans that return from the war the latest in farming techniques.
I'm entirely empathetic to the plight of the broke ass farmer. I'm one myself. I'm on food stamps (irony!) and Medicaid because, well, something as silly as growing and producing food just doesn't pay well. I'd encourage you to talk to your local ag extension and see what kind of grants or, less desirable, low interest loans might be out there for ya. Might not solve all the money problems, but it could open some space.
Another thing to consider is finding a commission based broker to move your produce/product from barn to customer. You really don't have time to broker your own output. You're a farmer, not a salesperson. Farmers markets are great, but also time intensive and take you away from core mission.
That said: I'm down here in Virginia absolutely cheerleading you, Sam. Don't give up and don't give in. If you have to go on SNAP and hit the food bank once a week to get by, DO IT. If you need to ask for help or mutual aid from your community (local or online), DO IT. if you truly have a sense of mission for this life we share, DO IT. Nature rewards action.
FWIW, I believe in you!