What It Takes
Over the last year I’ve been communicating more than ever with customers via text, email, chat, and telephone. The conversations mostly center on availability, special orders, and questions about specific items. But last week I received a text from a customer that put me to reflecting on the skills necessary to farm, either as a homesteader or as a full timer.
There are so many resources available to new and beginning farmers these days from YouTube videos to conferences along with plenty of books and magazines. But as I began to reply, I realized all the additional skills needed other than knowledge of plants and animals.
It’s easy to get caught up in the romanticism of plucking the perfect tomato from your garden or cuddling adorable baby animals. Blogs, social media posts, videos and glossy magazines make it all appear so glamorous with immaculately coifed farmers in their trendy togs telling us we, too, can farm if we follow them or sign up for their workshops and coaching. While it’s true they might explain permaculture, biodynamics, and food sovereignty, rarely are the meat & potatoes of successful farming discussed: basic skills.
As I went about my week, I mentally cataloged all the skills in addition to farming I needed in order to, well…farm. These are the skills that usually make or break one’s decision to succeed in agriculture and are rarely discussed up front, instead rearing their heads in a time of crisis (i.e. when something breaks).
My week started with two flat tires, two non-functioning electric fence chargers, three broken tool handles, a broken chainsaw, three spots where babies where squirting through the fence into areas they should be and a backed-up sink.
Now this might sound like a nightmare to most people, but for a farmer it’s just Tuesday. One of my mentors once told me if I’m not breaking things, I’m not farming. There’s a reason the winning team on the first season of Junkyard Wars were dairy farmers. One of my favorite things to do is poke around other farmers’ shops to see what tools they keep and what they’re fixing. Always the most telling is the bone pile of cast-offs and broken bits.
I’ve come to realize that some of the most critical skills of farming are carpentry, electrical, plumbing, mechanical, and business. A bevvy of followers aren’t going to help when the well pump goes out or the tractor won’t start. Instead of using screen time to post videos, how about crunching numbers on a spreadsheet to make sure you’re profitable or at the very least, breaking even.
Last year when people rushed to buy chicks so they could ensure their supply of eggs when grocery store shelves were empty I doubt they were tracking expenditures to see eggsactly what dozen finally ended up costing. I’m guessing anywhere from $10 to $15 a dozen by the time the fox, hawk or racoon got to them. And how are you going to preserve a dozen eggs a day you’re getting for a family of four? You’re going to want them when the birds slow down or quit laying over the winter. Great grandma had skills. She knew how to store eggs in lime water (calcium oxide, not the fruit).
Oh sure, there are plumbers, electricians, mechanics, carpenters, and CPAs, but think about how much it costed the last time you hired one. Now consider the logistics of coordinating all of those professionals. Did I really need the mobile tire guy to come out for the flat tire on the walk-behind mower? No, I needed a socket set and a bottle jack. Same for the flat on the runabout.
When I was in junior high school I was required to take electrical shop. Those lessons have stuck with me becoming invaluable when dealing with electric fencing, but I’m flummoxed by people ten, twenty years younger who don’t know the difference between volts and amps or that when their $300 fence charger quits working it’s usually a 99-cent fuse—no, you do not have to buy a whole new charger. By the way, organizational skills are a plus so you can find the spare fuses when needed. The other charger needed a new set of alligator clamps. I made sure to get the copper ones, they’ll last longer than the cheaper ones.
The chainsaw was missing one of the nuts that held on the bar so the chain stayed in place--$0.39. A drain snake that fits on the end of a drill saved me a call to the plumber to clear the birds nest out of a clogged barn spout.
The broken tool handles posed a bit more challenge. The claw hammer handle went on easily, but the broken pitchfork needed to have the hard ash burned out of the ferrule and the sledge’s new handle needed a little sanding to fit in the steel head. The bonus—replacing just one of those with a new tool would have cost more than all three of the replacement handles combined.
Even when professionals do the initial job, such as installing fences, nature has a way of undermining good work. The last project of the day was metal shop, cutting wire fence panels to fit into the voids created by erosion which were exacerbated by animals crawling through. Worn paths and fur on the bottom wire of the fence are the tells as to the escapees’ paths to freedom.
One trip to town with a stop at the tire shop and hardware store combined with skills that are rarely taught, yet absolutely critical when it comes to farming and self-sufficiency had me back up and running in a day. My reply to my customer’s text was just that—learn the basic skills of electrical, plumbing, mechanical, and carpentry. It will also turn out to be good business.