Musings about our farm, organic farming, regional foods and markets.

Plus, what's in the news about foods, systems and regulations around the world.

Wednesday, May 8, 2019

From the Rolling Hills to the Atlantic Coast


Fall greens at Rolling Hills Organics


We, Peter and Gundi, have moved to Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia, on about the easternmost coast of mainland Canada. Our house is perched 25 feet above sea level and less than 150 feet from the sea, in the picturesque maritime cove of Little Lorraine. 


"Now why exactly are you making this move?", (one person pondered). Exactly because we fell in love with this property and location as soon as we laid eyes on it. We have long wanted to live beside an ocean that is wild, scenic, pristine, and wondrous. We cannot afford to do this on the west coast of Canada and we are not ready to trade this country for another as home. When we visited last October, we were immediately enchanted by the varied land- and sea-scapes, the friendly welcome from locals, the rich choice of seafoods, and, yes, the 'out there' nature of living detached from the busy world of people, yet belonging to a community of way less than a hundred people. "Won't you be isolated?" No, not really. We are eight kilometres from the nearest large village (as we were before), and half an hour's drive to the nearest large town (again, as we were before). We are within 45 minutes of an airport, right on the ocean, with a thriving local food and farming market easily accessible (online or by weekly pick-up). Family and friends have been overwhelmingly supportive of our move, expressing admiration for our boldness, sense of adventure, and wishing us the best. An element of envy exists, but most show their better nature by being genuinely happy for us.


This move came about very fast as we sounded out the saleability of our farm property in the Northumberland Hills of southern Ontario. We began by advertising Rolling Hills Organics as a farm and business. Seeing strong interest at the advertised price, from two parties in particular, we made a four-day visit to Cape Breton, touring the Cabot Trail in all its Fall colour and glory, and visiting our chosen property. We returned home and made an offer conditional on selling the farm. This offer was accepted! With no firm buyer, we opted to put the farm on the open market, through a real estate agent specializing in selling farm properties to Toronto buyers. Within three weeks, the farm was sold, firm, just before we departed for twelve weeks of winter break on Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. All this happened at breakneck speed. With constant developments, it was hard to keep up with apprising family, friends, colleagues, and customers. Some were miffed not to be the first to hear, or to hear second-hand, or, worse, through the grapevine. We left for Guatemala before Christmas as arranged well in advance of planning to move. We did so with a firm closing date of mid-April for both sale and purchase. We returned home at the beginning of March with six weeks to pack up the household, farm, and glass art studio, and to organize financing, moving, transfer of accounts.


We sounded out the move because we are at the stage of life where we need to downsize and plan for the next chapter while we are still active, mobile, energized, adventurous, and in good health. If I am no longer farming, I do not need a farm property with all its physical demands and upkeep. Importantly, with a strong market demand from Toronto and vicinity, the time is right to sell at a good price. And the time is right to buy at way less than half the sales price in Nova Scotia. Plus, we are following good friends who have made this move ahead of us, and they are all loving their new lease of life on the east coast.


So, Rolling Hills Organics is no more. I will miss the camaraderie of farmers market customers, vendors, and staff. It remains my fervent hope that the pure land that I farmed organically for twenty years will continue to be chemical-free, as it always has been. The new owners seem to be very conscientious in willing it so. They plan on having a pony, chickens, and an apple orchard. A neighbour surfaced over the winter wanting to take on the organic farming, either at our farm or by converting his own family conventional (chemicalized) farm. Jason took on all my seeds, catalogues, and a lot of farm and market tools and equipment. I am flattered that he wants to grow the same salad green blends as I did, marketing them as "Peter's Greens". It may take him a while to get up and running as there is a lot to learn, but I wish Jason, and the farm's new owners, all the best.



Our new locale, Little Lorraine, Cape Breton, Nova Scotia


Here in Little Lorraine, we are pinching ourselves at our good fortune in finding our dream home on the ocean. The land and sea scapes are constantly changing with the weather and light. I look forward to many years of looking out over the cove, out to the open Atlantic Ocean. We want to explore this wild, rugged coastline, the rocky shores, and the manifold beauty of Cape Breton. This afternoon on this glorious sunny day, we went off on a walk to explore the heralded Gooseberry Cove, brimming with anticipation. And the views exceeded expectations. This is classic, open, wild Atlantic coastline with bold headlands, rocky shore, sheltered coves, and clear waters. The sun danced on a sea pulsing with sound, energy and light.



Looking out to the open ocean


Tuesday, February 26, 2019

Andrea y Chico



First we met Chico as we arrived in Pachitulul, a small Mayan village outside San Lucas Toliman on Lake Atitlan in the Guatemalan Highlands. He was sitting barefoot on a bench, resting from toil in his field. He told us he has a wife, Andrea, and six girls. This evening he came by to offer us tomatoes, lettuce, cabbage, parsley, and celery. Conversation led to details about our family and his. We were astounded to hear that he has an Andrea (his wife), and a Cristina and another Andrea among their six daughters, just as Gundi has these two as daughters along with Claudia. Their other daughters go by the names of Maria,Isabel, Rebecca, Liliana. 


Buoyed by Chico's sale of fresh vegetables to us, Andrea and Liliana came by an hour later under cover of darkness and tapped on the kitchen window. They were carrying three big baskets of hand-woven textiles Andrea had made and proceeded to extract a huge, vibrant assortment of clothing and decor, all beautifully and uniquely fashioned and created. Not now, later, Gundi re-iterated over and over as they unfolded more and more. Another time. Later. We are cooking...


Chico duly came by with a huge bag of lettuce, radishes, arugula, celery, tomatoes, parsley, and cabbage. He sat down, chatted as we peppered him with questions about the community and its history. Yesterday's marimba band concert was apparently attended by around a hundred locals, and celebrated the recovery from illness of a village member. "How old are you?" he asked Gundi... "... and you?" I countered. "Fifty two". "Ten years younger than me", I confessed. When pressed on the cost of the five pounds of vegetables, freshly picked from his garden, he shyly said twenty quetzales (around three dollars). "Cheap, no?", he joked. When I gave him thirty, he was very grateful. "Expensive, no?", he joked. The next morning he came by, as promised with fresh epazote and purple basil to make a tummy tea for Gundi. Ten quetzales were gratefully tendered and received.

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After I reminded Andrea about coming over with a shirt for me, she appeared on a Sunday morning with daughters Maria, Liliana, and Andrea, and three baskets of textiles. I picked out a subtle purple, green and orange shirt that Gundi approved of, and, lo and behold, it fit,with just the hood for Gundi to cut off. Andrea asked for 300 quetzales and settled for 250; we were all happy with the deal, which is the main thing. Too many tourists show no dignity in seeing haggling as a sport by which to belittle the seller and back-slap their own powers of persuasion in a display of cultural imperialism.


Chico is one of eight local farmers that rent land from IMAP, the *Instituto Mesoamericano de Permacultura*, in exchange for seeds that they grow. Chico saves a black corn, tomatoes, arugula, carrots, beets, chard, celery, parsley, lettuce, cabbage, spinach, and more. In addition, some early mornings well before the sun gets up, he and his two dogs walk an hour up the mountainside of Toliman volcano to tend his corn, coffee, peaches, bananas, and lemons. Ah, the life of a campesino - hard but gratifying; this and the physicality, sensuality, fresh air, sun on skin, and communion with nature, which have in concert provided me with so much enjoyment over the years. As we return home and then start a new chapter on the ocean in Cape Breton, I will miss Rolling Hills Organics, the farm and the farming vocation. The sowing of seeds, the changing of the seasons, the planting of seedlings, the turning and nurturing of soil, the harvesting of greens, the pulling of root crops, the selling at markets have, after all, granted me a happy living and sustained me in good health for the last two decades.