This is our farm column from farmer Casey O’Neill. O’Neill is the owner operator of HappyDay Farms north of Laytonville, and a long time advocate for the cannabis community in Mendocino Co; more of his writing can be found here. The opinions expressed in this column are those of the writer. If you would like to submit a letter to the editor feel free to write to [email protected].
August is the hardest month of the year for me, we’ve taken to calling it Ughust here on the farm. Though the days are noticeably shorter than they were in the peak of summer, the work days are still long, and we still pull tarps at dark. This is the month of drudgery, the time of struggle with burnout.
Once we get to September, the outdoor harvest begins and we’re on the downhill slope. We usually see glorious rain in the third week of the month, and the frenetic pace of harvest adds an adrenaline boost that carries me across the finish line. August is the time before that, scraping away at the last reserves of summer strength. Like the days growing shorter, so too does my capacity for effort.
We’re making strong progress on the construction project, all the plywood is up and we’ll be starting tyvac and window wrapping before moving into trim and hardi-board. Carpentry on top of farming is the most physically difficult work I can remember doing in a long time, and this has something to do with my overall fatigue.
I did manage to get the first round of fall brassica sowed, and though it’s later than I’d like, they’ll shape up nice for winter harvests. I’m adjusting my plans for winter cropping after the heavy snows this past spring. We’ll be doing a lot less produce, with far fewer tunnels skinned this year. By not planting so many seeds for fall crops, I’m limiting what we set out to produce, and we’ll be taking a break from markets and CSA when the fall crops wind down.
Despite (or perhaps in spite of) the fatigue, the farm looks excellent. Crops are burgeoning on plant and vine, and flowers of all kinds bring delight to eye and nostril. It’s a fair bet that we’ve never looked so good in August, and I’m crossing my fingers for a strong run up to the finish. The saying goes that “this year’s the year, until sometime in August… then next year’s the year”. So far, this year is the year!
Yesterday we moved animals onto fresh pasture, cleaned out the chicken coop and scrubbed the waterers. It always feels good to see livestock happy, and they love fresh quarters with new forage and a different experience. It also feels good to work as a team, and the evolving land partnership at the ranch brings me great joy.
We call the six male pigs the sausage party, and watching them bounce and frolic in the new space brought me a comfortable feeling. The bulk of the pasture is dry and brown, but even so the pigs were happy snuffling around and eating what tidbits they could find. They took to their new wallow immediately, which made it clear that they don’t like the stench of the old one any more than we do. Learning to manage the timing and labor of animal movements is one of the central tasks for me, an independent piece of the farm puzzle that is enmeshed with the vegetable and cannabis aspects of the operation.
One of my main goals with animal production is to raise or scavenge as much of their feedstuffs as possible. We harvest totes of weeds, prunings from cannabis and perennial greens like comfrey and alfalfa as often as we can to provide fresh forage during the dry times of year. I go to other farms to gather vegetable wastes, unsold produce, and fruit that has dropped from trees in orchards. These high quality foods close a loop in our farm cycle, cutting down on costs and making for happy animals.
This coming week we’ll slaughter turkeys, putting up food for winter that will sustain our families and will provide the centerpiece for holiday meals when we gather and share in celebration, bounty and reflection. Once the turkeys are off the pasture, we’ll move the laying hens to another section and then we’ll sow seeds and put down straw on patches that have been scratched bare.
The shit from the animals, combined with all of the vegetable matter and forage that has been stomped and shredded through their activity form a primer for decomposition and regrowth that gives me hope for the future. Watching vibrant green plants grow from the remains of shit and decay never ceases to amaze me, the miracle of renewal and the cyclical return to abundance. As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!
