The Muses of Mission Berry Farms

It seems that support for a community supported farm is growing all over the country. So, I think it is the right time for Mission Berry Farms to start. Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) is definitely the buzz now, not only among the environmentally aware and health aware citizens, but also among the urban and suburban masses. And as the economy continues to slide, uncertainty regarding the availability and accessibility of some of our most basic resources continues to grow.

The American public is becoming ever more suspicious and conscious of where our food comes from and how it is produced. Concerns are many and range from “how long can we eat pesticide and herbicide laden food before we get sick?” to “why does food that I get at the grocery taste so inferior to locally, naturally grown food?” People are concerned about how far and how long their fruits and vegetables ripen as they travel thousands of miles by truck to the grocery. And, how about the taste of those truck ripened fruits, especially tomatoes compared to naturally grown Indiana tomatoes? No comparison.

Earlier this year, as the mortgage crisis was beginning to gain steam, my neighbor up the road, who probably grew up during the height of the Great Depression said to me, “A storm is coming Dave.” He was expanding his garden this year too and wondering how much food prices were going to continue to rise, as gasoline prices had already been on the rise for months. I wasn’t sure what I thought about all of this as I stood on the road with him next to a 120 acre soy bean field. I have always kind of thought that we could feed ourselves and the world a million times over—no problem. But, I think we can all agree in light of world events of recent years that it would be a good thing if we all were just a little better prepared. We teach it to our Boy Scouts, but we procrastinate the practice for ourselves.

A couple of weeks after I had the conversation with my neighbor up the road, I happened upon the book by Barbara Kingsolver, The Animal Vegetable Miracle, and I began to be a bit more educated about how the food chain in our country really works. I also found that my appreciation and interest for heirloom varieties, self-sustainable living, and organic gardening begin to grow. And as I read, I began to realize that the potential is there--that something could happen to our food supplies--terrorists, big seed company interests and genetic engineering of crops, loss of heirloom seed varieties through hybridization, and the ever-adapting insects, weeds, and even the crops themselves adapting to the annual spraying rituals and increased potencies of sprays; all in an attempt to stay ahead of the weeds and bugs while pimping our fields for better crop yields.

Meanwhile, where does it all go, the bad stuff that is? Well, I’m no scientist when it comes to these matters but common sense tells me that some of it ends up in us--from residual left on the food, or from seepage through the earth and into our streams, and ultimately our water supplies.

Now there are many reasons to start eating locally and naturally, and my intent is not to dwell on negative drivers of why one should do so. In fact, my reasons for starting Mission Berry Farms are many and they are very personal and very positive reasons. Please let me share them with you.

1. Provide educational experiences for my kids, teaching them about the land, work, gardening, and business.
2. Provide a means whereby my children and other kids in the community can earn money, part of which could hopefully go towards paying for future, full-time missions to serve the Lord.
3. Increase the personal peace and satisfaction that I feel as I work in nature with some of nature’s basic elements—dirt, seeds, water, and light.
4. Share in the joy of the harvest with others in the community.
5. Plant and eat more raspberries (Farmer Dave really likes the raspberries!)
6. Exercise some of my creative energies through beautifying a garden.
7. Follow the promptings of my ancestral Muses, chief of which was my grandfather, who seems to still be passing on his love of the garden.

Ciao,

Farmer Dave