Mabon at Runamuk Acres
Celebrating Mabon with a Chattel Walk, passing my exam to become Head Cook, and harvesting on this small farm and ecological reserve in Maine!
All of my livestock and equipment became collateral when I took the loan from the FSA to buy my farm. I can’t sell any of it without their approval, and every couple years my local reps come from the county offices for their Chattel Walk to ensure it’s all present and accounted for. This past week, in addition to passing my ServSafe exam and celebrating Mabon, Runamuk hosted John and Serena to the farm for review. Join me for the latest farm-update and I’ll pour the tea!
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
Chattel Walk
“I’ve never been back this far,” said John as I drove the FSA agents into the forested conservation acreage. “This is really nice, thank you, Sam.”
“Absolutely!” I said, cringing inwardly at the state of my car. Littered with tools, dog hair, hay and even sheep droppings, my Subaru Forester may look like an ordinary car, but she works like a truck.
“This road is really well maintained,” Serena murmured from the passenger’s seat beside me. “It’s really pretty. You have a beautiful farm.”
Driving slowly along the worn ATV/snowmobile trail, I took them first to the remote campsite where I have a picnic table and fire-ring set up for adventurous tent-campers. Then I backtracked to take them round the other side of the 40-acre forest, where the little stream and wetland habitat lay in a gully protected by maples and cedar trees.
“I don’t think you were with the Somerset FSA, John, when we did the conservation contract, but the stream is one of the reasons we qualified for the program. Apparently there’s a population of endangered freshwater mussels that resides in Gilman Stream, and our stream feeds into Gilman Pond, which empties into Gilman Stream.”
“Oh, wow!”
“Yup,” I said proudly, continuing my story. “The other reason was that the Tamarack Grove (where the campsite is) happens to be prime habitat for the endangered Canadian Lynx—and I’d just seen one a few days before the biologists came for their property walk!”
Back at the farmhouse, John asked to see the big-ticket items: my Bolens lawn tractor and it’s attachments. The tractor sits in the garage, leaking fluids and taking up space. It’s a sad reminder of mistakes made in the name of a relationship that still grieves me. A reminder of the antique Farmall I’d sold to buy the Bolens, only to discover the smaller tractor wasn’t up to the job.
You may not know this about your friendly neighborhood farmer, but I have a bit of a fetish for antique tractors and classic trucks. Thus, it was another dream come true when a very dear aunt gifted me a 1951 Farmall Super A to aid me in my farming endeavors.
It ran when we brought the thing home, but something went wrong not long after and then nothing would get her to turn over. Though she didn’t run, that tractor remained one of my most prized possessions—a symbol of hope for the future I craved.
During my time as a landless farmer, I moved that hunk of red metal around with me as I searched for a farm and home of my own. I aspired to hire help in restoring the old tractor, but was persuaded in my last relationship to sell the useless equipment for something that could actually serve the farm.
The concept was sound, I suppose, wouldn’t my aunt want me to have something that actually worked for the farm? But, I know too, that my ex didn’t want the pressure of having to fix the machine, being no mechanic, and I wonder how much that influenced his motives during those conversations.
I sold the Farmall without conferring with the FSA, spent the funds on the Bolens, and then was forced to reimburse the FSA for their appraised cost of the tractor. Of course, I no longer had the funds, having spent the money on the Bolens with it’s tiller, so it put me in the hole and was, perhaps, the very start of my current financial crisis.
Since then, I’ve foresaken tillage altogether, but I miss my big red tractor and sorely regret allowing myself to be swayed into parting with it. Even if it only served as a lawn ornament and a plaything for visitors, it would have been worth it to me to hang onto the Farmall.
There’s no going back, though. We all must live with the choices we make in life. People always do crazy things when they’re in love. (Hercules) I believed in that man and our relationship enough to give weight to words and opinions where it was undeserving…and now I must live without my big red tractor.
Head Cook—Officially
Aside from the Chattel Walk, I was able to pass my ServSafe exam last week to become certified for handling food. To fully assume the role of Head Cook at the local school where I’ve taken off-farm employment, I had to complete a 12 hour course in food safety and pass an exam to prove my knowledge and understanding. Cramming study sessions in around my busy schedule was a challenge, but I scored an 85% on the final exam and I’m now fully in charge of the kitchen at Kingfield Elementary School.
The fact that I am not just “Head Cook”, but also the only cook was not revealed to me until after I’d accepted the job (unintentionally, I’m sure, lol). Yet, it’s a small school and though the work keeps me busy, I’m rather enjoying it.
Yesterday, one of the young students told me that I was her “favorite adult in the school because you’re so kind”, which was—quite possibly—the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.
Another time, when I’d inadvertantly left sandwiches out of bagged lunches on early release day, a student told me: “It’s okay, everyone makes mistakes.”
Fire & Creativity
Though I struggled at first to adjust to this new reality, facing fatigue, insecurity and writer’s block, my fire is returning to me—and with it, my creativity.
Currently, I am working on Chapter 6 of On Blackstone Mountain, researching for an essay on scratch cooking as a means of self-reliance, as well as fleshing out ideas for a piece on mental health in the darker part of the year.
I also bought a copy of my own book: How to Buy a Farm With No Money, so that I can work on some promotional pieces for marketing. What a feeling to hold my very own book in my hands for the first time!!!
In case you missed them, here are links to my most recent works:
Mabon
Lighting a candle and burning some incense concluded my humble observance of the Autumnal Equinox, also known as Mabon. Having spent the weekend on the farm, first hosting guests to the Farmstay on Friday night, then lunch with my sister on Saturday, followed by harvesting squashes and dry beans on Sunday, it was a quiet affair, but appropriate, I thought.
I find it brings me closer to nature to observe the seasonal festivals in accordance with the Wheel of the Year. Do you celebrate the solstices and equinoxes? Leave a comment to share why or why not, or any practices and traditions you maintain to foster that relationship with the natural world around you.
Prone to Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder and still coming to terms with having to seek off-farm employment, I’ve been careful with myself as we slip deeper into the Dark Days of the year. Looking after myself as one would look after a small child, I’m ensuring she gets plenty of rest, eats properly and doesn’t drink too much.
Maintaining my morning yoga stretches and affirmations, I’m committed to continuing these practices so as to not lose the progress I’ve made in claiming my own authenticity. It’s one of the things I’ve feared most about being back among society…I don’t want to lose myself amid the pressures of the world outside the borders of this farm. I’ve finally learned how to be myself here at Runamuk Acres, now I have to be strong enough in that sense of self to take her with me wherever I go.
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!
I wish I could have given you some pointers on the Farmall tractor. I grew up on a farm in Arkansas and Farmall or "International Harvester" equipment was about all we ran. From "M" Farmall's then to the 806 series on up. My dad had a pretty good "shade tree" mechanic on the payroll so I worked with him. That was many moons ago, but it does give me a little knowledge of my own tractor even though it is an overseas brand. My wife and mom are both scratch country chefs. My sister said there are two types of cooks, the ones that cook by feel and those like her that cook by formula. You may have surmised the ones who cook by formula are the ones who have a number of measuring cups and spoons.
I loved everything about this text ❤️