Casey O’Neill is a farmer and owner of Happy Day Farms in Laytonville, Calif. The opinions expressed in this column do not necessarily reflect the views of The Mendocino Voice. If you’d like to write your own column for The Mendocino Voice, send your idea to info@mendovoice.com.
Craft exists as a process of refinement, steps towards betterment with each expression of the work. It is in the form and function of the efforts as much as in the end results. Craftspeople strive for new knowledge and practice, new methods for making and doing. We know that there is always so much more to learn, that we can always be better.
After 20 years of farming I know a whole lot of what not to do, but I’m still learning how to do things right. Learning the lesson that it is always worth the extra time on the front end to save time or hardship later. As a younger man with less sense of practice and context, I rushed through tasks seeking completion more than correctness.
I am still guilty of rushing, of trying to cram too many projects into too small a time space, but I get better each year at evaluating, planning, and accomplishing with results that will last longer, look better and be more functional than did my efforts as a younger man. The lessons have come via the mistakes I have made far more often than via my successes, each paving the way for better practice in the future.
Over time, I learn to be more efficient in my work, in my use of tools, in the way I manage jobs and work with people. I’m coming to a deeper understanding that the adage “work smarter, not harder” is an aging man’s realization that the body is finite, that I have only so much strength to give. I learn to allocate resources differently, to base my work less on physical strength and more on consistency and knowledge.
I spent my first full season working on a cannabis farm after college in 2005. I didn’t know much about anything, but I knew how to work hard with a smile. Over the years to come I learned about farming, first growing one type of plant, then many. Each thing I learned to grow broadened my horizons, excited me, filled me with the joy of working with living things. I learned to raise animals; the joys of life, the difficulties of death, the solidity of food stored in freezers for our family to eat.
So much of craft is interconnected, each piece inseparable from the whole. The context for each farm, each farmer is different, shaped by circumstances, climate, microclimate, worldview, soils, slopes and a dozen other factors both tangible and intangible. They say ten thousand hours makes an artist, and by the most conservative of estimates I’ve enlisted four times as many hours in service to the land, to the organism we call a farm.
Looking back on the farm over the years I see gradual shifts towards increasing complexity as we sought out new crops, different animals, new farming techniques and acquired new tools. There was a time when I wanted to grow every crop under the sun, raise every kind of animal I encountered. Now we’ve moved into a narrowing, figuring out the venn diagram of the things we like to grow, that grow well here, that we can produce at high quality for an economic return.
I no longer grow kohlrabi except for an occasional small planting because they don’t sell well, though I do like growing them. We don’t do potatoes because of the gopher pressure and the heavy labor for our limited space and tools, though they’re one of my favorite things to eat. This year we’ll be phasing out winter squash, focusing on purchasing them from a local farmer who grows them in abundance.
We’ve also refined our cannabis strains over the years, letting go of old favorites and bringing new varietals into the fold. The thread of the Strawberry Kush still runs through many of our offerings, bred originally by Robb at Cut Creek farms and iterated by Twenty20 Mendocino and in our own breeding programs over the last 15 years. I enjoy looking back over the history of plants we’ve grown and seeing the way some things change, yet some things stay the same. We sow and plant in spring, harvest in fall, yet the realities of the cannabis space have changed so drastically that we are still shaken and working to find our footing in the new world.
Now brother Lito is the lead for our herb, while I focus mostly on salad mixes, root crops and cooking greens. I love the new tools that have made my work easier and so much more productive than in the old days. I love the hoop houses that shelter the tender crops from cold weather and wind. I love the feeling of going to market, of being in community and sharing the experience of connection.
As the world continues to change in uncomfortable ways, I am drawn back to the need for connection. Farming is a way for us to connect with the land, putting down roots that anchor us as we reach out to connect with community wherever we go. I love meeting people, sharing the bounty we work so hard to produce, enjoying the feeling of fellowship in humanity. No matter what happens in the world, I am reminded that I love people and I am always seeking connection, and that this is enough to steady me. As always, much love and great success to you on your journey!