Our buckwheat cover crop emerging

Sugar snap peas reaching for the trellis

Working over at the greenhouse, I am reminded of the generosity of the farmers at Gaining Ground. They invite us to share their greenhouse year after year, even though we take up more and more space each season! Tilling in our biggest, toughest field, I think about our neighbors Mr. Gerry Cupp and Mr. Bill Kenney who take time out of their own field prep to disc our fields for us each spring and fall. We are incredibly lucky to have such kind and generous neighbors.

The Gaining Ground greenhouse on a chilly day in March

We have a wonderful collection of volunteers, both old friends and new faces, who come out to the farm to pitch in. It’s always blast to introduce new folks to the farm, and volunteers are a great reminder of all the enthusiasm out there for farming.  Community Day in April we had a big crew (aged 1 ½ and up) spreading compost, clearing fields, laying out burlap pathways, and building a tipi in the new garden area. It’s such a joy to be surrounded by so many folks excited to be getting their hands dirty and being a part of the farm.

A few of our lovely volunteers with Cheryl preparing to plant parsley

Volunteers spreading burlap on Community Day

Each season, our fantastic community of CSA members enable us to hit the ground running. This spring, as folks sign up, we have gotten excited little notes and emails from members who can’t wait for the share to start- and we can’t help but feel the same way.  We are so lucky to grow food for such an engaged and enthusiastic CSA!

We can’t wait to show off our new signage either

This winter we found a widespread network of supporters through our kickstarter campaign. When I use the BCS to rototill or build beds  I think about all the people who chipped in to turn the fantasy of a new BCS into the reality powering along in front of me. Knowing that there are so many folks out there rooting for us, and invested in the farm is so encouraging and energizing!

Cheryl making beautiful raised beds with the new BCS

No matter where we are on the farm, or what we’re up to, we are never far from a reminder of the First Root community, who both help us to grow and give us a reason to do so.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for being a part of it.

Nina

We can’t get a tractor on the fields until they dry out, and we can’t order up the weather we want: warm, sunny, windy days. As farmers, there is so much we can’t control, and the annual spring wait to get on the fields is the first reminder of  it. We talk a lot about the importance of resilience in our crops, how important it is to grow varieties that are adaptable and hardy. It turns out resilience in farmers is just as important.

Luckily, there’s plenty to do while we wait. The greenhouse is already full, packed wall-to-wall with onions, shallots, leeks, kale and cabbage, chard, broccoli, and beets. In just a few weeks, we’ll move the onions outside to harden them off before we plant them, and the greenhouse will fill right back up with peppers, tomatoes, squash, cukes, and eggplant.

The greenhouse in early April is absolutely gorgeous. Though the world outside is still brown and grey, the buds haven’t opened and there’s still snow in the woods, the greenhouse is bursting with green.

We’ve also been busy reorganizing and streamlining our CSA pickup area in the barn. This might seem like a small thing compared to all the work we do planting, harvesting, and weeding, but having efficient systems across the entire farm operation is what makes a successful business.

We built new tables for the CSA pickup. We can stack produce bins underneath them, move them around into different configurations, and we don’t have to dismantle them after every pickup.

We painted permanent veggie names on our chalkboard signs, which will save us lots of time during CSA setup.

We have new shelving! Everything we need for the CSA distribution — baskets, boxes, scales, etc., is neatly organized in one central location.

Check out our new pick-your-own station – it’s not in anyone’s way, and it’s super user-friendly!

We also assembled our brand-new Planet Jr. seeder. Last season, we drove 20 minutes each way to borrow this crucial tool from a friend.

What I love most about farming is the steady, satisfying, physical work. I love using my muscles and the exhaustion I feel at the end of the day. I love eating and sharing the food I grow. But there’s a whole lot more that goes into a running a farm, and I love that, too. It’s been a wonderful month, building and designing and cleaning, rethinking systems and implementing new ones. I can’t control the weather. The fields will dry out when they dry out. But I can control a whole lot of little things–CSA distribution tables and convenient shelving in the barn–that might not seem important, but add up to something big.

The days are getting longer and I can feel spring coming, the scent of thaw, the fresh wind, the strengthening sunshine. I’ve done this a few times before. The fields will get tilled, the peas will get seeded, the onions will get planted, and before I know it, we’ll be harvesting the first kale. With so much to do, and so much to look forward to, the waiting isn’t so bad.

Laura

This week we planted the very first seeds of the season in the newly re-organized greenhouse. We seeded a few trays of scallions, open flats of leeks, our early kale and chard plantings, and tray after tray of onions. Seeding is repetitive, pleasantly mind-numbing work and somewhere in the midst of the day’s 60-odd onion trays, my mind wandered off. I began thinking about seeds, and the wealth of information stored in each one.

A handful of Kale seeds

The little black onion seeds I was depositing in each soil cell hold all the genetic information needed to create, from sun, soil, and water alone, an onion. I know, this is fairly obvious, kindergarten-level information, but it blows my mind. Think about it. Stored away in this tiny, inert bit of plant material is everything you need to grow roots, sprouts, leaves, and miraculously, an onion bulb!

Chard seeds are crazy

Incredible. And humbling. Yes, I grow onions, but really I am just providing for the seed and enabling it to enact its genetic destiny. And, let’s not forget, enjoying the delicious fruits of said destiny!

So many little onion seeds set forth towards their genetic destiny. Good luck little onions, and godspeed!

Nina

Every year, I am becoming less and less sure of the weather. The patterns we’ve relied on in the past are no longer the norm. Winter is an important part of the life cycle of a farm. The hard freeze kills many pests and diseases that linger in the soil. If there aren’t enough days below freezing (or any at all), we’re likely to face a much heavier pest and disease load the following spring. So I’m grateful that we had some stretches of old-fashioned cold this winter, even though they were punctuated by several mini-thaws. It sure beats last year’s non-winter.

As I always do around this time of year, I’m getting excited for spring. Our potting soil arrived at the greenhouse yesterday–five cubic yards of beautiful, dark, nutrient rich soil from Ideal Compost in Peterborough, NH. The road to the greenhouse wasn’t plowed, but after we packed it down by driving the truck back and forth all over it, our friend Mike from Ideal did a masterful job backing up his dump truck, and the soil arrived without a hitch. The smell of it made me want to start seeding on the spot.

Luckily, I don’t have long to wait. We’ll be getting the greenhouse cleaned and ready next week, and come the first week in March, we’ll be spending our days seeding onions and leeks and shallots, the first kale and broccoli, spring chard and cabbage. It’s one of my favorite times on the farm–before the hectic season descends on us, just the quiet and the sun in the greenhouse, the first hint of spring in the air, my muscle memory kicking in as I fill tray after tray with onions.

This season promises to be one of our best. We’ve got an amazing new machine, a whole slew of new recording-keeping systems (this is especially thrilling to my inner farmer nerd), and a fantastic crew. We’re growing more food than ever, using more cover crop, and trying out a few exciting new amendments to target the specific nutrient needs of our soil.

As I write this, on a bright, snowy, late February morning, I can already smell the April sun, and feel the warming soil under my hands. I’m enjoying these last weeks of quiet, but I’m already dreaming of onion starts, spring wind, the smell of dirt.

Laura