By Steve Galea
Like a lot of people, Jenn and I recently agreed to make an effort to lead a more simple life and to get back to the land in 2024. Her exact words were, “Why not? You already have the simple part down anyhow.”
That’s why, for Christmas, I bought her a hydroponic unit so that we can grow lettuce, parsley, basil and thyme.
The unit, which is about one foot long and six inches deep lives on our kitchen counter and is now known in our house as “the farm” – although admittedly, this has not yet caught on with Jenn.
If you think about it though, this is a perfect farm. It grows plants in a self-contained environment that provides light, heat, water, soil, and nutrients – plus, there is no rooster.
And it works too. In the two weeks since we’ve set it up, our lettuce crop is almost two inches high, and our parsley and basil are also coming along. In fact, if all goes right, I think they will be ready for the Farmer’s Market by summer.
Having said that, when I look at our back 40, as I sometimes refer to it, I believe we could increase our yield substantially. And I told Jenn as much the other day. Heck, I even laid out a plan, based on my limited experience and a quick perusal of an old Farmer’s Almanac.
After hearing me out, she said, “No. You’re not getting a straw hat, overalls, and rubber boots.”
Jenn is a lovely person, but she is resistant to change. Of course, I expected no less. She is never up at the crack of dawn like I am. Nor does she worry about whether we’ll experience a draught, or frost in the kitchen. Likewise, I never see her concerned about the very real possibility that an errant deer sneaks into the house and eats into our profits.
She just thinks all this will take care of itself.
And maybe it will. But would it hurt to get a small tractor, just in case? The answer is, apparently, yes – especially after she heard my plan about also getting a manure spreader attachment.
Of course, she will probably regret that stance once the lettuce is ready to harvest. We have no place to house migrant pickers.
Admittedly, I’m dreaming a bit big right now. But it’s only because I can see the day where our lettuce fields stretch from one end of the kitchen counter to the other.
I also envision getting up before the rooster crows, and surveying all I see. And then, when I’m gone, passing the farm down to my kids, so long as they have enough electrical receptacles to manage it.
Call me crazy, but every time I see a bumper sticker that says “#$@! Trudeau!” I recall a simpler time when there used to be ones that said, “If you ate today, thank a farmer.”
But right now – lack of overalls, straw hat, and rubber boots notwithstanding – there’s still work to do. Our three lettuce pods are doing well. The basil pod is up and so too is the parsley. But our thyme is still dormant.
If that crop fails, we will have to go to the bank with straw hat in hand, to get the funds to buy some from the grocery store.
Will we succeed? Nothing is guaranteed when you farm. So, I guess thyme will tell.
