FINDING HOME
(My Plan)
I received this comment on my blog after posting We Really Need a Plan. “Forgive me for being direct here but.. instead of saying ‘we really need a plan’, why not… propose the plan? Or at least sketch out the outlines of one. Who needs to do what to push back against the trends you have eloquently expressed?”
A fair question and one I think I have answered in my blog postings over the years. However, the plan will likely be different for each person. The overall goal is to feed one's family and make a small living, without spending any money. And how to build resilience into a food-growing system. My intent, the intent of my writing, was to discuss the why and the how of the way I chose to feed myself and my family, as the ideas evolved over time. And they did evolve—changed—as the world around me became more chaotic, more incomprehensible to me. One can grow food anywhere—on a rooftop, on a windowsill, on a balcony, in a factory with lights, in a backyard. My personal plan was shaped by all that has happened to me. I have no 'one plan fits all'. We each must listen to our own needs.
I have written about the events which enticed me to farming, sent me back to school, lured me into teaching. The simple version is that it all began when a friend insisted on paying me for rosemary from my garden, rosemary I always happily had given her as a gift. It sparked an idea of selling directly to the organic food co-op across the street, bringing them my front yard grown herbs bundled in a crate, several times a week. A thirty meter walk. With no cost to myself, not even gas.
Having been a fighter of lost causes for decades—from animal welfare to saving trees from the bulldozer—I had less energy for combat or even a gentle lecture when, years later, my lower middle class neighbourhood went very upscale. I believed in city farming. But our property taxes began to increase and the new neighbours began to complain about my compost heaps, farm animals, wild herbs instead of a lawn... you name it. I was legal with a grant from the state department of agriculture and I had a lawyer so I stood my ground. I had hoped to be an example, hoped to encourage some of my neighbours to grow food. But instead, people wanted to be a part of my CSA. I had few students and a waiting list of clients. Then my health insurance was cancelled due to a necessary surgery and I wound up in the pool for undesirables, insurance now unaffordable. And the padlocked gate to the orchard was smashed in and one of our goats was stolen.
I was afraid. I felt violated, even after the police found the goat. My husband and I began rethinking our goals. Because of land prices and no health insurance, it was never a consideration to look at farms in the U.S. I did not want to grow into a terrified, helpless old lady. My husband was increasingly angry; at the policies of his government job, at the upcoming election, at the traffic which began at the bottom of our driveway. He did not want to become an angry old man. And we wanted to live smaller. We wanted to live where all the neighbours lived smaller, wanted to live smaller. We made socialized medicine, living within a farming community, and feeling secure our major concerns. That was the extent of The Plan and those three ideas narrowed the field considerably. My last semester teaching environmental science, my class looked at computer climate models for the entire world for 2020, 2030... rainfall, temperature, soil fertility; the predictions and the amount of uncertainty in the models. That narrowed down the choices even more. Zio clinched it saying that he wanted to spend his retirement sitting on the veranda drinking the local wine.
My enlarged plan:
To live in a country where medical care was a right.
To find land with a house we could afford to buy without a mortgage.
To grow a few staple crops on which we could survive as well as sell.
To grow our medicine.
To have space for a garden and a chicken coop right next to the house for my old age convenience.
To have minimal farm expenses. Hopefully zero.
To farm in a region where farming was still respected. And possible in the future.
To live in an area where what I do is commonplace.
To use only the local resources.
That was all possible in Umbria. Italy is still primarily agricultural land and Umbria has had thousands of years of self-sufficient farming. The stellar cultural history—art especially—made it all the more desirable.
We did not sell our U.S. house. We moved first and bought a farm later. We sold most of our possessions, gave away all but our favourite books (THAT was a mistake) and rented out our house in the States—for more than the cost to live in a small Italian hill-town. My husband found consulting work. I found work creating food gardens for restaurants. We learned a great deal about the area and its resources, the local government, what I could grow and farming possibilities I had not considered. And we learned the language. For the year before we purchased our farm we took Italian lessons focusing on the (general) laws and words we needed to know to look at property. My youngest was going to university so we did not have school considerations. And the university education in Europe was easily affordable with many programs paid for by the EU.
We were open to living anywhere in central Italy but I found where I needed to be twenty kilometres away. As I drove through the northern gates of the closest city—I was visiting a new friend from my language class—the land opened up into deep country. (see photo above) All I could see for many kilometres were tree-covered mountains, clouds, and a blue sky the colour of which I had not seen since my childhood. Not a house in sight. It was glorious. Thrilling. THIS was where I wanted to live. We looked at farms in that area, progressing further and further away and up the mountain as the prices dropped. The area had long been a protected region, with strict laws about building and tree-cutting. After years of futile activism during which our biodiversity loss, deforestation, farmland devastation and the intensive animal factories were only increasing, I wanted, I NEEDED, to be part of something positive and growing.
And I think that is the key to having a plan, to finding HOME: finding where one can feel safe and not angry, where the work toward a better, simpler world yields positive results.
My plan now included:
To farm/live within a thriving ecosystem, to become a steward of the land, albeit a small bit of the local ecosystem. Wild land or abandoned farm land is far less costly and more animal and crop-friendly than open, constantly plowed farmland.
To farm/live in the mountains, on an incline. (Less costly than flat farmland and excellent flood prevention)
To find land that was, at a minimum, half woodlands. Overgrown and wild fields were just fine. One to two hectares for growing food was plenty. But I also wanted adequate land for the wild animals.
To grow a few staple crops suited to the existing ecosystem and current climate.
To have enough water on the land to grow abundantly; an underground spring, a small river or lake, a large roof on the barn or a house to collect rainwater in a cistern.
A nearby village with basic services: doctor, pharmacy, vet...
Friendly neighbors, respectful of the land. People I could count on when the shit hits the fan.
Farm-friendly laws which would allow me to live sustainably.
Strict development laws which included protecting the local wild animals.
Forest-friendly laws and policies beginning with no clear cutting.
Having farmed here for years now I would add four necessities...
Know the land well before making an offer.
Walk the land several times, all of it, before deciding. Listen to it. Observe as much as possible. A house can be fixed, the land can not be easily altered, nor would you want to blugeon it into something it is not in order to grow a specific crop. Notice what is already growing. Look at the weeds and look up what they say about the soil. Find out how the land had been used, what land is adjacent and how that is being used. Find out what crops will grow well there... and what if it is warmer? Or colder? What might grow then? If you are in the mountains, what is happening on the land above you? Who are the local keystone predators, the local animals? Add your own questions but along with surveying the land and its possibilities, pay attention to what is surrounding it. Read a bit about the history of the area.
Learn about all the possible forms of water storage.
Do not count on city water. Having enough water is far more important than solar energy. (I cannot stress that enough!) We can light lanterns, build fires (live the way everyone did just two centuries ago) but in the future we cannot count on rainfall. If you will not be in the mountains, ways to store AND divert water from your growing land will be vital.
Plan to have both ruminants and poultry.
Too much to say here. I have much information in previous blogs. Briefly, our animals do all the heavy lifting and save many costs. They provide all the balanced nutirents one needs for any crop, no fertilizers needed. The poultry provide a stable protein source as well as insect and snake control. Sheep provide meat, cheese and wool. Goats provide milk, cheese, meat. Donkeys and horses pull plows. On a thriving farm or rural property, they can feed themselves.
Plan to have a large enough living space for visitors:
A house, guest house, yurts for your friends, relatives, apprentices, employees. You will need all the help you can get when you begin. And folks will need safe havens.
Simplified:
Fertile land around the house
At least one long moderate growing season (it may now be winter)
Already existing evergreen and deciduous trees
Space for a few farm animals as well as friends
Rainfall collecting and diverting plans
A sense of feeling safe and belonging
You may have all of that already!
© www.thesubversivefarmer.net September 2024
In a previous lifetime, Zia Gallina worked as a botanist for the National Parks Service, on the C&O Canal outside of Washington D.C. (lecturing on wild indigenous and naturalized medicinal and culinary plants). She was also an adjunct professor teaching biology and environmental science at American University, Washington D.C. But she has always been a champion of small-scale biointensive farming, tagging behind Mother Nature, trying to stay as close as she can get.
