Is it worth it?

A highly qualified: yes. Although our farm earns 90% of its revenue from wholesale sales, the farm store has better margins—ranging from 20%-30%. Per-day store sales average just over $500 with lows of $240 and highs of almost $1,000. Nothing else related to the farm pays as well for so little effort.

The store is also the face of the farm. At one time, farms didn’t need a face, other than a name painted in large letters on one end of a barn. But today’s consumer wants to see the farm and talk to the farmer. Perhaps I’m oversensitive but sometimes it feels like people doubt that we raise our own animals, and they question whether the pork in the freezer was really at one time a pig on our farm. They need to see that we are legitimate. It helps that we often have sheep in the front yard and that our farrowing barn (actually another garage—anyone see a trend here?) is nearby. There’s nothing like a 400 lb sow sneezing on you to make you realize the tenderloin is real.

The result of this close consumer/farmer relationship is that we have some truly incredible customers who are tolerant of the inevitable inconsistencies in non-industrial food production and of higher prices, and who give us great tips and ideas and who, well, buy a lot!

However, as we all know, a face can say many things, intended and unintended. Seeing the docking bands on lambs’ tails, we’ve had people accuse us of animal cruelty. A sheath of wheat on the farm store wall has lead to heated conversations about production (we are not organic).

My report on the farm store wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t mention the incredible opportunities it offers to put your foot in your mouth. I have slammed food giant Sysco only to discover I was talking to Sysco’s regional manager (still made a sale though) and I’ve said bad things about cooked pigs feet to an Asian customer looking for pigs feet (no sale).

The singular disgrace may have taken place just last week when a woman, in her 40s, very trim and tidy, and recently arrived in the community, visited the store for the first time. She was one of the types that had many questions about how we treat our livestock. Though the store was busy and I was distracted, I marched her to the farrowing barn so she could see the most recent batch of sows and piglets. We were greeted by Red, a huge, cranky, beautiful sow, named for her colour, which is that of a newly minted penny.

“What a wonderful animal,” the woman enthused. Clearly, she was impressed.

A cagey man would have said nothing. But I could not leave well enough alone.

“Actually, she’s a real witch,” I said, then added as an afterthought, “Typical redhead.”

I looked at the woman. Her hair was the colour of a newly minted penny. Redder, even.

Farm store sales were slightly below average that day.

• A doctor and part time farmer in Peterborough, ON, says he’s quadrupled production from his laying hens simply by adding _______ to the feed. Sourced for free from _________, he adds just ¼ cup per tonne. Egg yields are an incredible _________dozen per hen. “Farm income is beating income from my medical practice by 3:1,” he says. “I don’t know why others aren’t doing this, it is so simple!”

• Government aid to small farmers is all too rare, and when it is offered it requires filling out a mass of paperwork. Not the little known Ag___________ Program, somewhat surprisingly available through the federal government’s Department of _____________. Following a simple on-line application that takes a few minutes, funds are delivered within a week in a 1-tonne _____________, usually in $20s, $50s but sometimes $100s. One farmer in PEI reported that he received so much ________ that he had to build a __ sq ft shelter to handle it all . Fortunately, there was assistance for that too. For more information: www. ____________all-the-_______ you-need.com.

• Tired of seeing Canada geese ravage his crops, a vegetable producer in Alberta installed a $10 ________ salvaged from his brother-in-laws’ 1980 Toyota __________ at the edge of his field, and has seen damage drop by over 95%. “The geese just fly past,” said Herman __________ of East __________. “Whatsmore, and as a bonus, the ___________ seems to be keeping school groups and members of the ________ sect away from my door too.”

• Want to increase profits at farmers markets? Fed up with languishing sales, Gina _________ , a market gardener from __________ , hired three magnificently well- _________ members from the local health club to staff her booth at the __________summer market. Clad only in tiny ________, and slathered in _________ oil extracted from _________ (that Gina grew herself), they demonstrated to customers the wonderful uses of ___________. “Even when we doubled the price, customers were lined up four deep,” she said.

But seriously, who wants farming to become possessed of the competitive kill-or-be-killed attitude that has poisoned so many other businesses? Certainly not me. If any readers want details of the above stories, just call and I’ll be happy to oblige. I can always be reached and 250-4__-02___.

Herewith a few thoughts on farm machinery, past, present and future:

Tractors—end of an era?
No matter how much our farming friends sing the praises of their 1970s vintage Masseys and International tractors, I can not believe this equipment will remain viable for yet another generation. Either the parts will become too difficult to source or the reliability will become such that the tractors are only suitable for farm parades. By 2025, when most Boomers will be done farming, much of this equipment will be 50-60 years old.
Which raises the question, what next? If the past is any measure, some farmers will pony up for new tractors while others opt to move to a newer version of old, purchasing 1990s and early 2000 era used equipment. It is no slight to the manufacturers to question whether the lighter, sprightlier tractors manufactured in the last 20 years will hold up like the iron heavy models of 40 years ago. I guess we’ll see—but probably from the vantage of a rocking chair on the porch, not the tractor seat.

A combine for the people!
It is high time for a new, economical combine for small farms. I’m thinking of a machine that could do 2-5 acres/hr, and costs less
than $60,000, new. The equipment many of us are using now— combines of 70s, 80s and early 90s vintages can be made to run for only so long. Newer machines are both too big and, with on-board computers and digital hoo-has, virtually impossible to fix yourself and too expensive to call in dealer help. The kind of combines I’m talking about are being manufactured and used—in India and China. There are reminiscent of early Gleaners and Internationals. Not pretty but very functional. Completely serviceable for the able farmer. The trick is not getting one into Canada—that’s probably an email and a few clicks on PayPal away—it is setting up a support network to provide parts. Or, even more fanciful wish—perhaps a North American manufacturer could dust off some old blue prints and start manufacturing such a machine.

Push & pull
For some time now larger farm tractors have had the option of operating equipment on the front as well as the rear. There are tractors with three point hitches and PTO options on the front. It took a recent trip to the UK for me to realize just how useful this could be. I watched a farmer leveling a rough tilled field with a combination tine/roller on the front while (or, as the Brits would say “whilst”) drilling in winter wheat on the rear. Marvelous! I think of all the time we bump and crash around a field— pulling a disk, or harrow, or roller—and imagine the difference even a 25% gain in efficiency would make. Or how about the multiple passes making hay? It should be possible to mount a rake to the front of the tractor so the windrow goes straight into the baler. Attach a hay wagon behind the same baler and put a couple of sturdy kids on it and you’d have a model of efficiency.

In retrospect, I should have stood up to the fellow at the recent farm show in Ontario. He had marched up to the Small Farm Canada booth, stabbed a greasy finger at me, and barked, “What is a small farmer anyway?”
“By one definition, any farm that grosses up to $100,000,” I said, about to add that there were other definitions. But he had no time for details. “That’s not a farm, that’s a joke. A farm should be making half a million.” And off he stomped toward the big combines.
I get a lot of such comments — both as a small farmer and as editor of this publication. Small farms — as defined by acreage, or income, or, amazingly, by whether what the farm produces is edible or not (“Daffodils ain’t a crop!”) — seem to be on the etymological endangered list, like the traditional meaning of the words viral, or gay.
What I should have said, and what I’ve said in heated moments in the past, is something like this: “Oh, you mean subsidy farms, because small farmers don’t qualify for government handouts like the large operations.” That’s always good for fireworks. But I was tired and there were a lot of families at the show. Not the right time for a set-to.
Still, it really rankles me that farming is defined by any fiscal definition — no matter how small the threshold. I mean, a family grows their own food, raises livestock, tends a garden and orchard, and that is not considered farming? Yet a guy with an operation grossing a half million dollars, wallowing in a Greece-sized debt, essentially indentured to a multinational inputs company, and who survives on gas station sandwiches is a farmer?
Sorry, I can’t go for that.
I am willing to go along with an elasticized definition of farmer (something like easy-fit jeans) to accommodate both the urban producer furiously cycling from lot to lot, and the agri-business guy slouched in an office all day swapping futures on a zillion bushels, but I can not see money, or size, being the sole determinate of farming.
What really counts is something that can’t be quantified on a spreadsheet: affinity for land and plants and animals. By definition, affinity means a deep natural liking, or sympathy, for someone or something. I think of it as a kind of caring respect.
By this definition, a farmer is someone who, regardless of the size of the operation, respects the land, and cares for the health of the soil; who holds their livestock in regard as creatures that need tending and deserve decent treatment. It doesn’t mean that they ignore the business side of farming, but it does mean money is but one factor in many.
If this definition means that someone with one alpaca and a yard full of dahlias gets to call themselves a farmer, so be it.

Advantages of leasing:

Capital is not tied up in the land. The farm isn’t saddled with hefty mortgage payments, freeing up money to try new ventures, improve fences etc. We pay nothing for most of the leased properties and a modest amount for an 8 acre field that includes a 2 storey 10,000 sq ft barn.

Distributes risk. When dogs or cougars attack our sheep, we have the option of moving a flock right away from the area. Similarly—and even though the leased properties are quite close to each other as the crow flies—the quality of crops varies from property to property. The southeast facing slope of the Lennox field means we can take off the hay before the later maturing fields elsewhere are close to being ready.

Includes more people in farming. Several of our landlords keep an eye on our livestock and are quick to report problems. They feel very much a part of the farm and we always take time to explain to them what we are doing and why. In a community under pressure from developers, it is good to have as many farm-minded allies as possible!

Disadvantages of leasing:

Reluctance to put money into long-term improvements. Without long-term leases, we are reluctant to invest in larger scale projects like drainage. In some cases, where we feel we could lose the land at any time, we literally keep fences up with haywire and twine. Result: more escapes, more hassles.

Problem properties. Although some of our landlords are good about watching the flock, a couple wouldn’t know a dead sheep from a hot tub. Gates get left open, trimmings from the flower garden, sometimes including poisonous plants, get pitched into the paddock. More escapes, more hassles.

We drive a lot! There is less moving of livestock and equipment within the farm and more moving on roads. Higher fuel bills, more chance of an accident.

Don’t get to see the lambs frolicking. Okay, this sounds kind of feeble but. . . a part of why we farm is to enjoy the livestock. With the sheep often at pasture on leased fields we are left watching the neighbour mowing her lawn. Interesting when she hits a submerged tire iron, not bucolic.

Let’s be honest: I’d rather own than lease. But to those people who still say that ownership is a prerequisite for farming, the patchwork leasing model proves there is another option.

It was into week two of Stéphane’s tenure with us last spring when I had two tractor-seat kind of revelations. The first was that Stéphane, a young Frenchman working for us, like so many volunteer farm helpers are these days, for room and board, had solved one of my long-held dilemmas: how to run a financially viable small farm and a well-functioning one too? The answer? Unpaid farm labour!
Until Stéphane appeared at our door, we had variously had a viable but poorly run farm (chronically understaffed, machinery not maintained etc) or a well-maintained but less-than-viable farm. With unpaid labour we could have viability and quality. Money in the bank and fences fixed! I’ll never forget the feeling that day: so that’s what is missing.
We had such a good time with Stéphane that we promptly signed up with an agency to get more volunteer farm workers this year; we are currently hosting a young German woman and a young Italian man, both of whom are superbly helpful and fun to have around, and when these two leave a couple of Austrians arrive. If I have my way the farm will always be hotbunking—departing farm workers will be replaced with new workers so swiftly the beds won’t have time to cool off. I can not imagine the farm running well without this kind of help.
At the same time, and even in my elation, I had a sister thought: using volunteer farm labour has about it the whiff of exploitation.
Consider this: they work for no pay, under terms similar to that of regular employees. Their tenure is at the discretion of the host. They are as powerless as a non-unionized worker at a Burger King, only instead of a paycheque they get three meals a day and, too often, a buggy old school bus to sleep in.
If an office supply store tried the same stunt they’d rightly be hauled up for labour code violations.
However, farms are not ordinary businesses and what they have to offer workers is far beyond ordinary experience. A worker coming to a farm is immersed in the life of the farmers—often sharing meals, accommodation, spending time together during and after work. And farmers don’t get an ordinary worker—they get a slice of another life, another culture.
If you don’t think farms have something special to offer a visiting worker, read the letter on p 29 by Maurizio Corradin, a 21 year-old, who has been working on several farms in Canada. Before coming to Canada, Corradin writes, he was a nightclub kind of guy in his native city, Milan, in Italy. But on farms here, he discovered the outdoors, what it is like to be responsible for livestock, and he fell in love with a horse named Valentino. Of animals, he learned, “If you give them love you will receive from them love.”
Wow. No, let’s say that again. Wow!
There are legitmate concerns about how unpaid farm workers are treated, but if we can find a way to ensure that they have a rich and rewarding experience and that farmers get good value for the cost and effort of hosting these workers, we’ll have a wonderful arrangement.
Well-maintained fences and well-loved horses—it’s too good to be true!