What a week. We think it’s spring, but according to Luci at Lifeline Produce, the last time the crabapples bloomed this late was 26 years ago, so the slow spring is not just our imagination! So this morning at market, produce is lighter than we'd like, definitely less than this week in past years, even for crops that were planted on the same dates.
Farms throughout the region have been comparing notes about being behind; our grower's co-op has been hungry for greens from anyone who can produce them, but we, like many of our colleagues have had to keep them waiting as the limited production goes first to farm membership and market customers. (We have let a few local chefs start to buy a few greens, but have them on a much smaller trickle than most years at this time).
We are in a funny state right now where the first rounds high tunnel crops are wrapping up to make way for summer crops like cucumbers and tomatoes. Yesterday, we turned over two of our high tunnels, from early spring crops to summer crops, but the field plantings (some of them seeded just one week after the beds in the high tunnels we've been harvesting for 3 weeks now). High tunnels are what we call those unheated greenhouses with the big rolling doors that you see when you pull into the farm; this year is the first time the we're 3 weeks into May with the only harvest-able things coming out of those structures, rather than also the field.
We are also in a funny state because we have a larger list of projects than usual. We are desperately waiting for the last shipment of drip tape and parts that will complete our watering needs for season, our intern cabins are slowly creeping towards a finishing state (but also the most expensive stage of building), and our new farming system - reduced tillage on all thirty inch beds is more work than we bargained for. One of our colleagues, in Bozeman, a vey successful farm by many many measures, just closed their doors, going out of business. And we’ve been talking about that a lot lately, trying to understand it, and it makes us worrisome of the viability of farms and the obligation we have to write, to talk, to grow this community, and to try and get better.
We are grateful for the time at market to visit and those of you who remind us that farms are about people, our members, to all of you who come out to the farmstore or give us a smile as we are more frantic than, well, perhaps ever this year.
It’ll just be Mary at market — I’m heading to Missoula to put one of our interns on a plane that will eventually head to another farm. We’ve brought what we can to market, in this odd season of shuffling, cold weather, building, and re-building this young farm of ours. One highlight is that we will have 3 varieties of our favorite tomatoe plants available for sale. They will also be at the farm, stating Sunday: Brandywine, Black Krim, and a few Sungold cherry tomatoes.
