It really never stops completely anymore, the farm, but today was an unexpected whirlwind of First Day activity. We thought it would be a rainy Monday and we would just doodle around, not doing much. Zoey (18 months) couldn't go to daycare because she was a little bit sick, so Carrie assumed she wouldn't be able to work today, she would just watch over the new workers.
Ha. It didn't rain and we were propelled into spring. All day long Carrie and I handed Zoey back and forth, from one golf cart to the next, so we could do what we needed to do.
While Zoey and I watched, Carrie helped set up pallets outside so the onion plants could come out of the greenhouse for the first time and soak up the sun.
I took Zoey into Mom's house to look for pea seeds. We found Michael L and Zoey ran around and around, pausing to look at the birds on the bird feeder.
Tag team -- I handed Zoey off to her mother and got on a tractor so I could make beds in the hoop house for the first planting of radishes and turnips and beds on the hillside for the last planting of peas.
My turn again: Zoey and I went up to my house for a minute, partly because her shoes and socks were soaked from stomping through puddles. I thought we should warm up. We changed her pants and she did her usual exercise of climbing the stairs and coming back down. Then we had oranges and bread and butter. I thought I might try to dry out her socks but couldn't figure out the right method. Put them in the toaster oven, but didn't think about the fact that baking them was probably not the right temperature. Smoke and burnt socks. Zoey didn't understand why I was laughing so hard but it was impossible to explain.
Returned her to her mother, barefoot. Returned the cinders, wrapped in a paper towel, to show why she was barefoot. At this point Katherine of past blessingway fame (a long ago story about a very different sort of baby shower) arrived with her big one year old boy. That one is addicted to puddles and sat right down in the water, splashing happily.
I realized at this point that the food in the CSA room was running very low because all the customers were taking lots of make-up food. They missed a week or two here and there and this is the last CSA day of winter, so they took piles and piles of spinach and kale and lettuce. Yesterday we had two rooms full, with 16 different items. Any other week, we would have had 8 crates leftover at the end of today. By noon today we were down to the dregs. So I went out to pick more spinach, more escarole, more lettuce, more scallions, coming back with one crate at a time so there would always be something arriving in the room. The two mothers and the two babies had an impromptu picnic behind the stand, pausing to wash the greens as I zipped in with each delivery.
Raced home to change my clothes and go to piano. There is a limit to how much mud I can wear into other people's houses.
Zoey had a long nap while I was gone, and Carrie got a break. When I got back, I refilled the CSA room again and hooked up the tractor to the compost spreader so Carrie could get back to work when the nap was over.
One more hand-off: Zoey on my golf cart while Carrie drove away on the loader to spread compost. We had to pick more spinach and lettuce for Jon's common meal but then we could go and watch Mom on the tractor. Zoey is going to grow up completely believing that mothers drive tractors, just like I did, and just like my children did.
If it had rained, they could have had a quiet day at home and I could have worked on my knitting and thought about the recommendation I am supposed to be writing for Stephen. But it didn't rain, it was lovely, and we got peas and radishes and turnips and lettuce planted and we are well on the way to getting some ground ready for onions in the next few days.
We could only manage this because the 18 month old is cheerful and adaptable, even with a runny nose. But, thank goodness, tomorrow she is going back to day care. Her day care mom is Maria, the same Maria who took care of all our children -- one generation later, we are still glad to have Maria to free up our hands for farming.
Monday, March 27, 2017
Saturday, March 11, 2017
How To Succeed in Business When You're Not a Business Person
Sometimes my neighbor, a 31 year old Oberlin graduate who has been farming for about ten years, comes over to sit in my living room and try out his ideas on me. I knit and we talk, sometimes for much longer than either of us ever intended. In the winter we can do this, of course. In the summer our conversations are only about how much squash I need for the CSA and when he is going to get to the barn with the crates of bok choy.
He started out as a worker on the Plancks' farm and he turned into a self-employed farmer. Like so many of us, he has no academic training as a farmer -- I think he majored in Renaissance recorder playing or something. But he has a lot of relevant aptitudes and he thinks about lots of details and he loves to construct equipment out of metal.
The other day he came over to talk about his business plan for his next big leap. He is ready to buy some land and establish a real farm of his own. Up until now he has been renting small pieces of ground, starting over in a new location at least three times in the last ten years. Unlike most farmers, I don't think he has ever had a season where he lost money. He is conservative in his approach, he makes sure he has a market for what he is growing, and he doesn't try to do too much at once. He does most of the work himself.
All of this is completely different from the origins of the farm that grew me. Not all farms start out the same, but he has the huge advantage of coming after a series of successful farms -- people who have shared their experience and their land and their resources. Now young farmers can copy older farmers and take what lessons they want to. They don't have to make every single mistake themselves.
So we were sitting there going over some of his ideas and questions and at some point he said to me, "but you aren't a real business person." I didn't argue with him. I don't actually agree with him, but what he meant is that I don't make decisions based on the numbers on the spreadsheet. I have a whole complex set of values that get all mixed up with the numbers. So I am not purely a business person, that is true. But somehow we have managed together to keep this business afloat for the 33 years since my father died (he was the business person in the family, but he also had a lot of other priorities to juggle) so it is inaccurate to say that I am not a business person.
Because none of us on this farm has the vocabulary of a real business person, we are free to make up our own business principles. Obviously we learned the first one at my father's knee: "income must exceed outgo." That's the one we know matters the most, if we want to keep farming. But my own founding principle is:
" your choices are much better when greed is not your main motivator." And the most important resource of any sustainable business is the relationships that it builds and keeps. Relationships of all kinds. So another rule to live by is: " no burning bridges, you might need that bridge again."
This could get really long and boring. But I just wanted to say out loud here that we are absolutely business people here at this farm. We just allow for all sorts of other interesting values to get entwined in our decisions. We like odd people. We like helping new farmers. We like change. We like being part of a group. We like working in the summer and playing in the winter. We don't want to grow things that we don't like to eat, unless absolutely everyone else likes to eat them and then we bend that rule.
Business is not so different from politics, probably. It's about selling your ideas of what your product is. My sister Lani is a crazy business person, much more out on a limb than we are in so many ways. Greedy people give business a bad name. But it's not business that's the problem there, it's people who take the short view and think that money is the most important outcome. Money is vital, but it's not the only outcome that matters.
He started out as a worker on the Plancks' farm and he turned into a self-employed farmer. Like so many of us, he has no academic training as a farmer -- I think he majored in Renaissance recorder playing or something. But he has a lot of relevant aptitudes and he thinks about lots of details and he loves to construct equipment out of metal.
The other day he came over to talk about his business plan for his next big leap. He is ready to buy some land and establish a real farm of his own. Up until now he has been renting small pieces of ground, starting over in a new location at least three times in the last ten years. Unlike most farmers, I don't think he has ever had a season where he lost money. He is conservative in his approach, he makes sure he has a market for what he is growing, and he doesn't try to do too much at once. He does most of the work himself.
All of this is completely different from the origins of the farm that grew me. Not all farms start out the same, but he has the huge advantage of coming after a series of successful farms -- people who have shared their experience and their land and their resources. Now young farmers can copy older farmers and take what lessons they want to. They don't have to make every single mistake themselves.
So we were sitting there going over some of his ideas and questions and at some point he said to me, "but you aren't a real business person." I didn't argue with him. I don't actually agree with him, but what he meant is that I don't make decisions based on the numbers on the spreadsheet. I have a whole complex set of values that get all mixed up with the numbers. So I am not purely a business person, that is true. But somehow we have managed together to keep this business afloat for the 33 years since my father died (he was the business person in the family, but he also had a lot of other priorities to juggle) so it is inaccurate to say that I am not a business person.
Because none of us on this farm has the vocabulary of a real business person, we are free to make up our own business principles. Obviously we learned the first one at my father's knee: "income must exceed outgo." That's the one we know matters the most, if we want to keep farming. But my own founding principle is:
" your choices are much better when greed is not your main motivator." And the most important resource of any sustainable business is the relationships that it builds and keeps. Relationships of all kinds. So another rule to live by is: " no burning bridges, you might need that bridge again."
This could get really long and boring. But I just wanted to say out loud here that we are absolutely business people here at this farm. We just allow for all sorts of other interesting values to get entwined in our decisions. We like odd people. We like helping new farmers. We like change. We like being part of a group. We like working in the summer and playing in the winter. We don't want to grow things that we don't like to eat, unless absolutely everyone else likes to eat them and then we bend that rule.
Business is not so different from politics, probably. It's about selling your ideas of what your product is. My sister Lani is a crazy business person, much more out on a limb than we are in so many ways. Greedy people give business a bad name. But it's not business that's the problem there, it's people who take the short view and think that money is the most important outcome. Money is vital, but it's not the only outcome that matters.
Thursday, March 9, 2017
Hiring Season
He was supposed to arrive at 10:00, and by 10:06 there was no sign of him, so I sent him a text and told him to find me in the spinach patch, up the paved driveway. I joined Carrie in the spinach and we waited. He arrived at 10:15. The first words out of his mouth were apologetic, and his reason was that google maps had directed him to go through the McMansions next door. This was legitimate, although not really the best excuse ever, and we let him get on his knees and help us pick spinach while he had his interview.
Over the years I have developed a series of low-key tests for applicants. They are not at all difficult and yet they are easy to mess up.
First, they have to read our website to find out how to apply. They are instructed to send a letter of interest which includes specific information. Anyone who calls me on the phone without sending that information first does not get any more chances.
Second, they fill out a four page application which was originally composed by my parents (it used to say: "Can you carry 80 lbs. for one hundred yards? In what time?" To test this question, my father put my 80 pound cousin on his shoulder and ran 50 yards up the street and back so we could time him.). It has been revised over the years. Some of the questions remain -- the most probing one is "Farm workers make less money than people in other professions. Why is this?" I think one of the most telling questions is "List three interesting things about yourself." This application shows how they think, how they write, and how seriously they are taking this. Spelling counts. So does grammar. If they fill it out by hand and send it back in less than an hour, they do not get hired.
Third, they come to an interview if possible. Punctuality is crucial, but texting about tardiness definitely softens the crime of being late. Sometimes I test them by telling them to find me on the farm -- I give them directions, and the farm is so small that we can practically see everything from anywhere, so this is a very easy test.
Recently, I added a fourth possible evaluation tool. We ride out to the Loudoun farm together in a vehicle and I see how they are at holding up their end of a conversation for 45 minutes there, and then 45 minutes back. We can talk about anything at all. I can also tell if they smoke, and if they smell particularly strong. If they have a sense of humor that I can appreciate, that goes a long way.
So you see, it isn't really all that hard to get hired to work on this farm. You don't have to know anything but you have to be able to ask good questions. You have to demonstrate the ability to follow directions, and you have to be someone who can talk. We will take it from there. Lately, a lot of people apply with previous farm experience -- that can be good and it can also be a problem, unteaching facts and skills that don't apply to our farm.
Even though he was late today, he made up for it by telling us about himself while he tried to pick spinach and weed at the same time. He didn't act like it was weird to get down on his knees with three older women and talk to them for an hour. And he did notice that we picked a lot more than he did in that amount of time. Those are all fine qualities and he got the job.
Tomorrow we are interviewing someone who has never had a driver's license but she has worked at a local nursery for a few years. That is intriguing. I like hiring people who have interesting, quirky stories but who don't need to spend too much time tooting their own horn. Years ago (this one has stuck with me forever) I hired a young woman who had graduated from MIT with a degree in civil engineering. What struck me about her application was that she said she could "clean a carpet with a broom." Her parents owned a restaurant and it was her job to do that task. She ended up being a great worker.
I don't always get it right, but we do get a lot of interesting people here, and that is important to me. It would be so boring otherwise.
Over the years I have developed a series of low-key tests for applicants. They are not at all difficult and yet they are easy to mess up.
First, they have to read our website to find out how to apply. They are instructed to send a letter of interest which includes specific information. Anyone who calls me on the phone without sending that information first does not get any more chances.
Second, they fill out a four page application which was originally composed by my parents (it used to say: "Can you carry 80 lbs. for one hundred yards? In what time?" To test this question, my father put my 80 pound cousin on his shoulder and ran 50 yards up the street and back so we could time him.). It has been revised over the years. Some of the questions remain -- the most probing one is "Farm workers make less money than people in other professions. Why is this?" I think one of the most telling questions is "List three interesting things about yourself." This application shows how they think, how they write, and how seriously they are taking this. Spelling counts. So does grammar. If they fill it out by hand and send it back in less than an hour, they do not get hired.
Third, they come to an interview if possible. Punctuality is crucial, but texting about tardiness definitely softens the crime of being late. Sometimes I test them by telling them to find me on the farm -- I give them directions, and the farm is so small that we can practically see everything from anywhere, so this is a very easy test.
Recently, I added a fourth possible evaluation tool. We ride out to the Loudoun farm together in a vehicle and I see how they are at holding up their end of a conversation for 45 minutes there, and then 45 minutes back. We can talk about anything at all. I can also tell if they smoke, and if they smell particularly strong. If they have a sense of humor that I can appreciate, that goes a long way.
So you see, it isn't really all that hard to get hired to work on this farm. You don't have to know anything but you have to be able to ask good questions. You have to demonstrate the ability to follow directions, and you have to be someone who can talk. We will take it from there. Lately, a lot of people apply with previous farm experience -- that can be good and it can also be a problem, unteaching facts and skills that don't apply to our farm.
Even though he was late today, he made up for it by telling us about himself while he tried to pick spinach and weed at the same time. He didn't act like it was weird to get down on his knees with three older women and talk to them for an hour. And he did notice that we picked a lot more than he did in that amount of time. Those are all fine qualities and he got the job.
Tomorrow we are interviewing someone who has never had a driver's license but she has worked at a local nursery for a few years. That is intriguing. I like hiring people who have interesting, quirky stories but who don't need to spend too much time tooting their own horn. Years ago (this one has stuck with me forever) I hired a young woman who had graduated from MIT with a degree in civil engineering. What struck me about her application was that she said she could "clean a carpet with a broom." Her parents owned a restaurant and it was her job to do that task. She ended up being a great worker.
I don't always get it right, but we do get a lot of interesting people here, and that is important to me. It would be so boring otherwise.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)