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It's been a difficult summer, that's seen me tirelessly implement a plethora of strategies to try and make a go of Pili-Pala Farm. However, the forces of nature, nurture, and good old fashioned economics, have slowly but surely forced my hand...and perhaps led me to a better place....
It's early December. The clouds of mist are once again majestically wrapping themselves around the hills, as they always do this time of year. The trees are a wonderful copper colour, as the last of the stubborn leaves drop. The grass has stopped growing, and the weekly ritual of mowing has suddenly ceased. With an all embracing nod to the cosey days ahead, the woodburner has come to life with its smells, warmth and dancing flames. And, just like the seasons, I feel like I've gone full circle.
After a really challenging summer, where the alternative world I had started to build around me was brought into question, I try to work out yet another strategy for Pili-Pala Farm….and my life. I love growing. I love the drama of nature, and the spiritual recuperation that comes with being immersed in the elements. I really enjoy the process of cultivating, and the tangible achievement of an end product. But, there’s no hiding from the fact it's not been an easy year. Through all of the immense successes, and there have been many, I've been constantly mythered by the stark reality that the current strategy is simply not viable, and have even started to question if it's actually what I want.
In truth, the long hours spent on a lonely hillside, wiping the relentless summer rain from my weary eyes, have ground me down. Combined with the fact the economics have struggled to add up, I have had no time off, and I am seeing less of my family than I have perhaps ever done, things have had to change. It's a big shame as, somewhat counterintuitively, Pili-Pala Farm has been a roaring success. We’ve made the local and regional papers more times than I can remember, built a good reputation for quality amongst an appreciative community, opened a successful honesty shop, regularly sold out at the local Spar, hosted numerous farm tours, and even entertained senior politicians - all fascinated by what we are doing. And what we have been doing is incredible, innovative and profound. I believe we have made a significant contribution to the conversation about how we produce food, showing that a large quantity of fruit and veg can be grown on a small patch of low grade hillside, and without the use of chemicals. We have also proven that there is an appetite for market garden produce amongst local populations - many of whom are evidently tired of tasteless imported goods and a senseless food system. We are by no means pioneers here, and have simply followed many others that have demonstrated the same.
For me, It's been a magical, cathartic and profound learning experience, and one I am sure my children have simultaneously absorbed. Through some kind of osmosis, they will have noticed their crazy dad absorbed in an industry, process, income and existence that comes entirely from the earth. One that's powered by the sun, and fed by the soil. They will remember picking beans, nicking strawberries and excitedly running to warn me a sheep is eating the lettuces. They will have been intrinsically involved with a world that's perhaps as far removed as you can possibly be from a mobile phone.
However, there are a few fundamental and, possibly, insurmountable problems. Perhaps the most critical is that the current strategy just simply doesn't pay. There are ways to improve this, of course…but you walk on a slippery ledge, thats dependent very much on an increasingly fragile economy, and a sprinkling of good fortune - and I don't feel comfortable with this. Perhaps I could eventually afford to employ full time help, but I know this is several years away. By then, the kids will have their bags packed for the city (probably joined by my wife) just in time for their aloof and bedraggled dad to announce he is finally able to take a family holiday and turn the heating on. This is the thing, it's not about me, and nor should it be. I need to envisage a future that works for my beautiful children, and equally beautiful wife.
On top of this, and despite the immense pleasure this endeavour has given me, I do miss the company. Without wishing any disrespect to Pepper, the family dog, the conversation is just not up to much. When I ask her what she feels about the rise of artificial intelligence, and if this signals a threat or opportunity to the human race…she just looks at me. I’m even more concerned that she’ll soon start answering me.
I should add, I am not dismissing the market garden movement, not at all! It's got so much potential, but is also most definitely niche. I believe circumstances need to be very particular for it to work out as a feasible career - one that pays the bills, and allows for the other strands of life to intertwine. It's essentially an all encompassing lifestyle that will absorb you, exhaust you, and is unlikely to financially reward you.....but it will reward you in so many other ways. And, I am not departing from its seductive allure.
So, what does all this mean for me, and Pili-Pala? Well, it's another change in direction of course, in fact more of a “full circle”. I’ve reengaged with my previous career in social work and, all of a sudden, have found myself back at my old desk amongst familiar and lovely faces. I’ve got through the period of awkward questions - what are you doing back? I thought you had become a farmer? I have rejoined the “rat race”, but realised that many of these rats are, in fact, good friends. I am even dreaming of family holidays and, maybe, some new clothes.
On the farm, although the honesty shop has closed, and now houses our winter supply of wood, and the countless beds lie dormant - a more feasible strategy has risen from the flames of this experience. I have identified one crop that has been the least problematic, most rewarding and arguably most appreciated - garlic. The refined, and more sensible plan, is to slowly transition the farm to focus entirely on garlic production. Initially on a "hobby" scale, I aim to build up seed stock over the next few years to ultimately grow around 20, 000 bulbs, to include some of the largest and tastiest varieties around. Its a longer term strategy, that allows me to return to the mainstream workplace and embrace some more familiar challanges. In the meantime, I’m also keen to develop my aims of “self sufficiency”, and adapt our acreage, to ensure my lovely and suppotive family continue to enjoy an abundance of dads fruit and veg.
This story is by no means over. I'm just turning the page of another chapter.
