What is (or was) your biggest roadblock to starting a farm?

This was my first poll question of choice for you readers.

How to get enough money to start

Lack of farming know-how

The time it takes when you’re still working an off-farm job

Other answer…

Those were the options I provided for your polling pleasure.

I know that many of you saw the poll in our sidebar because, so far, 63 of you answered it.  And, of those 63, 57% said that how to get enough money to start their farm was the biggest issue.

So, now I have a question about poll etiquette.  Because, really, is it bad form to ask about someone’s challenges without at least a bit of knowledge that might help them over the hurdle??

How to get enough money to do anything is a sticking point for a lot of people and farming has a lot more ‘junk’ surrounding it than most businesses.

For one thing, there is a whole societal belief that food is cheap.  And, yes, crappy food is cheap – at the initial outlay.  The true cost of crappy food, or pseudo-food, as I like to call it, comes when you look at the health care bills it causes and the environmental damage it does.  When you’re producing good food, naturally the cost is going to be higher.

So, I guess step one to getting enough money to start a farm is to clear society of some old, mistaken beliefs about food and install some new ones.

If that’s step one, it kinda sounds like there might be a lot of steps before you get to the money part, doesn’t it?

But wait, there’s more than just cheap food ‘junk’ that makes it difficult to make a living farming.  As a fascinated observer of humanity, I have noticed that it isn’t only long time farmers who have the ‘Life is hard,  please notice me struggling’ mindset.

It seems that a lot of new farmers getting into sustainable agriculture have that same mindset and, honestly, it’s a killer.  This is the ‘Poor Dirt Farmer Junk’.

(John used to say that he was a poor dirt farmer.  But he has learned that to say this is to invoke the wrath of the wife.)

If you want to repel abundance, this is the way to do it.  Don’t get me wrong, farming is not Easy Street financially.  Yes, we struggle too.  But if you’re into farming because your identity is about struggle, well, a bucket of cash could fall on you and you’d still figure out how to make it hard.

So, do I have any new useful answers for those who are in the ‘not enough money’ category?  I’ll do my best, but it might not be what you’re expecting.

Three Financial Thoughts For Planning Your Farm:

1. Do it yourself:  Do what yourself, you ask?  All of it.
   Yes, the goal is to pay yourself a reasonable wage; $15 or $20 per hour, say.  But start where you are.  If you have little financial capital, make it up in hourly capital.
2. Sell first, then produce:  A lot of farmers (especially conventional farmers) have gotten into the habit of producing something and then trying to sell it.  Don’t do it!  Sell it – or, at very least, market it – first so you know you can sell it.If you don’t know how a C.S.A. (Community Supported Agriculture) program starts yet, find out now.
3. Know yourself:  (and your spouse/partner/family)
   Make no mistake, you will be short of cash and/or time – likely both.  Unless you save A LOT of money before starting your farm, you will have a farmer’s lifestyle for some years.

   Know what need motivates you to farm and be able to tell when enough is enough, for you and for your family.  Because, yes,  everyone can survive with nothing but second hand clothes, old cars, “No, we can’t rent a movie”, “No, you can’t play hockey”, “No, we can’t have a vacation”, without cable TV and “No, Daddy won’t be home to tuck you in”.

   But, can they thrive in the conditions you’re planning on foisting on them?

I know, number 3 doesn’t sound like a financial thought but it applies directly.  If you’re going to make hard financial choices for your family, make sure the individual personalities you’re dealing with can thrive despite them.

Even better would be to make the financial choices that help your family thrive.  But don’t ask me exactly how to do that.  When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.

In the meantime, here is an unofficial number 4:  Starting a farm is like having kids.  You’re never really going to be ready or have enough money but that shouldn’t stop you.  Follow numbers 1 through 3, then jump in.

Your options are sink or swim and, in the case of farming, neither one is likely to kill you.

Well, farming – and starting a farm, in particular (due to the ‘two-full-time-job factor) – is just like anything else in the world. It has it’s ups and downs. There are busy times and quieter times. You get to watch crops flourish where you’ve spread your best compost and you have to shovel the crap out of the chicken house to get that good stuff to spread.

Okay, so we don’t have a chicken house, but we will in the winter and I’m purposely not thinking about spring clean out.

Point being that, just like with anything else, you can revel in the high times and keep your head above water in the dips. Or you can drown. And, when you’re drowning, it’s hard to remember that, whatever problem is big enough to sink you, there is an answer out there.

Here at J. & C. Nyman Farms, we’ve been feeling a little like we’re drowning despite business going so well. Why does that happen? To challenge us? Isn’t farming enough of a challenge??

Anyway, it happens and, like I said, the answers are ‘out there’. I’ve always been pretty good at seeking the ones that someone has written down. (Aren’t books great?) Lately, though, I’ve gotten better at harvesting answers from what I consider the collective consciousness. Sounds a little hokey maybe, but it’s been working for me.

For example, I called this post ‘Attitude is Everything’ because that’s what John and I have both been struggling with. The ‘Why does this have to be so hard/This shouldn’t be this way’ attitude. We might as well have been wearing cement shoes. So, I absolutely went to my list of favourite quotes, my bookshelf and my trusted friends in search of solutions.

More importantly, I listened for answers that came to me unbidden. Like my neighbour, a gentleman past retirement age, lets say, who said: “Boy, I hope your son knows how lucky he is to have this life, Colleen.”

Some might have taken offense to this and I don’t necessarily think that our 2.5 year old needs to feel ‘lucky to have this life’. But, I realized that John and I had been looking upon our life too negatively for sometime.

From a two year old’s perspective, the fact that the lawn was knee high might even be a plus, not a reason to think ‘this shouldn’t be this hard’. To a growing mind and spirit, the fact that sleep is traded for the opportunity to green chop feed, haul it to the barn yard and hand bomb off the hay wagon to our sheep, probably sounds like a super deal. (I know it does, in fact. That’s why bedtime has been going so poorly lately). When the fencing catches up to the season and the sheep are on pasture all the time, I’m sure he will feel like something is lost, not gained.

And, what would be wrong with looking at things this way? Currently reality can’t be changed so why not enjoy it for what it is. Or at least know that, despite how hard it is, it is still fun, rewarding and, dare I say it? A wonderful life. (He! He! clichés make me laugh!)

Hmm… as I reread what I have written, I realize it’s all no brainer stuff – when I’m not actively drowning.  So, I guess I can just count myself one of the many who have written down the answer to a challenge so they won’t forget it. If anyone hears me sounding like I’m drowning in bad attitude, please refer me back here. And feel free to refer yourself if you ever need it. 

More specifically farm related stuff to come in the next post…

I think I’m noticing more feathery details because I’m getting excited about finally getting some fowl back on our farm.  We’re leaning towards ordering from McMurray Hatchery as we’d like to do some of the rarer breeds.  (Anyone with experience with McMurray, please comment on your level of satisfaction.)

It’s been a few years of eating grocery store poultry for us and it just doesn’t compare. Even the ‘top of the line’ chicken isn’t as good as what we grow in our 10′x10′ ‘chicken condos’.

So, with every aspect of chicken rearing and eating right on the tip of my brain, I hesitated at the grocery store when I saw chicken legs on sale for $2.20 CDN per kilogram. (That translates to about $1 a pound, still in Canadian dollars. We’re so close to par that I’m not going to do that calculation. I’m all calculated out with the kg to lb switch!)

I hesitated for more than one reason, not the least of which was the number of chicken related posts on ChowHound‘s post called Grocery Store Items NOT to buy.

First, I looked down at those pale but large-ish chicken legs and thought of the conditions the birds must have been grown in; no sunlight and breathing in a heavy concentration of airborne ammonia. I knew, also, that their diet had not been optimal. Not the most healthy choice for our family but still chicken, at least. And bargain, at that.

My second reason for not immediately latching onto the bulk package of legs has to do with the bargain factor. I am one who stands upon my soap box (and as a public speaker on the subject, no less) and tries to drill it into farmers that we must start demanding a fair return on our investment for what we produce. Gone are the days when we produce food for only a couple of dollars an hour, I declare!

I’m also lucky enough to speak with consumers and I politely but firmly inform them that our food is artificially cheap and that, if we want to eat good food, we have to pay for it.

So, picture me having these conflicting thoughts and emotions as I look down at what could be the protein portion of 3 meals for my family for the ROCK BOTTOM SALE PRICE! of $5.35! When I have, on other occasions, seen a similar package for $20 or more, this is hard to resist.

And resist, I didn’t. Home I came with my bargain basement chicken all the while looking forward to the days when there would be a chicken feast awaiting me in my own freezer. At least it’s chicken, I reminded myself again. It’s not a fatty cut of ENTER YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE meat here. Pat on the back for choosing lower fat meats, Colleen.

Or so I thought. Here is where I started to hear my own words ringing in my head about artificially cheap food.

I decided to skin a few of the pieces and stew them. And, as I peeled away the skin, I was appalled to see how fat these birds were. It’s no wonder commercially raised chickens frequently die of heart attacks before making it to market. This guy must have been the sumo wrestling champion of the chicken feedlot!

I decided I wanted to know the extent of my bargain shopping folly and weighed the fat that I trimmed from these puppies. Not the skin, just the thick, solid, white fat.

(I thought about including a picture of the slimy little pile, but decided it would have been cruel to my fledgling blog).

Here’s how it calculated out:

For my $5.35 I got 2.432 kg or roughly 5.36 lbs.

Of those 2.432 kg, 525 g was pure fat. That’s 1.16 lbs.

So, I paid just shy of $1.16 for fat. That’s about 21.5% of the total cost of that package of chicken.

Now, a quick word about fat. Fat is good for us, we need some to survive and for healthy joints. There’s my disclaimer.

I’m not a low-fat fanatic by any means. (Butter on your toast, anyone?) But this is a little ridiculous. There is more than enough fat within the meat of a chicken leg for flavour and good health. And chicken is not usually one of a North Americans main sources of healthy fats.

So what is with this chunky chicken? Grain. That is the only reasonable explanation why a cut of poultry would have that much of the white stuff. Big chicken producers are pushing their birds to grow faster with high amounts of grain and little natural ‘chicken exercise’ like scratching and pecking the ground – in essence, foraging for their food.

It puts me in mind of a poultry version of Hansel and Gretel. And, don’t we want the chicken on the table to have actually once behaved like a chicken should?

I sure do. Don’t get me wrong, I will get in bed tonight and be grateful that my belly is full of trimmed chicken leg dinner but, you can bet I will dream of robust tasting, ammonia fog-free, lean chicken to come from our farm.

(How’s that for jumping on my soapbox for everyone? )