Scrap Farm- Starting a "regenerative" farm from scratch

Welcome to Scrap Farm, the newsletter/podcast where I discuss living seasonally, adapting to climate chaos and how to make jam, all in the context of trying to start a farm (possibly in the UK but at this point who knows?).If you’re new here, hello, hi, welcome. The next few weeks are likely to be less farm-centric and will harken back to my older writings for this newsletter. Writings on ‘weeds’ and foragables, on pagan festivals and the ever-turning wheel of the year. To those returning, also Hi. When it comes to farm updates, my partner and I are more or less where we were last week. That is, stuck in the tichy indecision, or not even indecision, but in having to keep our options open. I have applied for countless more jobs, and been rejected from quite a few. We have, however, submitted our US business plan to see if we qualify for a USDA loan on a property we toured back in October. Thinking about that land it seems like a lifetime ago. Thinking about the land we toured in the UK also seems very far away. Being in the UK hinges on me getting a well-paid job, and how long we can hold out and wait for that. Being in the US hinges on whether we qualify for a land loan. Lots of hinges. Such a liminal time lol.Oh also I just listened to the above podcast and for once I felt like the business plan we’d drawn up might be better than we think. Or at least we ahven’t forgotten any of the easily forgotten expenses of running a farm (but I’m sure there will be others). In TheorySome actual news is that I passed my UK theory test. At 29 years old! What a marvel. For those of you who wonder how it got this far, I grew up in London and had no need to drive until I started living in the US at 25. I would also like to say that I got my American license in one week in New Orleans. I drove my instructor on her errands, to shop for her daughter’s birthday present and to pick up coffee. My ‘theory’ section was learnt in 8 hours in a room where I was the only person who hadn’t been driving for years already (everyone else had got caught driving without a licence, so the course for them was mandatory). I spent a week dodging drunk tourists, potholes and horse manure. And then suddenly I was allowed to drive. Even then I hadn’t really needed to drive, I got confident with driving a couple of years ago (my partner is a saint for surviving that long and for trusting me with his manual cars). Compared to the paper multiple-choice questions and 10-minute drive around the block that got me my Louisiana licence the UK system is quite severe. The US is actually one of the only countries where the driving licence isn’t convertible in the UK. I wonder why (it’s actually because regulations are so different state-to-state).Spotty driving history aside, I was more than apprehensive about the theory test for which I had been cramming via App for about three weeks. Turing out my pockets (and dropping hawthorn seeds on the carpet), panic-clicking on a pile of leaves in the hazard perception section, I was sure I was going to fail. But no. Passed!I’m now working on getting a couple of lessons to prepare for the practical test. This might not seem like big news but when it comes to insurance, and ease of movement having a UK licence was a bit of a stumbling block for our plans to farm here. It seems hopeful to have passed. It feels like actually moving. In any direction. Quite literally taking the wheel.Old FramesAnother tiny life update is a superficial one. But in it being so it gave me plenty to muse on, to chew on like gristle. It began because I needed to get new lenses for my glasses.The last time I got new glasses was seven years ago they were free (I was a student in Scotland). In that moment I saw the world for the first time, I got contact lenses. Up until that point I had been walking around in a stubborn blur. The joy of seeing every leaf, making eye-contact with ease, and communicating so much better has yet to wear off. Saying that I do love my glasses, the frames, not least because they make me look kinda hot.But that’s not the point of all this. The point is that new lenses in old frames cost more than buying a new set of glasses to reuse my old frames. That the sales assistant was unsurprisingly very pushy. And more annoyingly, the frames I could choose from (but refused to) were visibly lower quality than the ones that had survived 7 years on my face. But unfortunately for Specsavers, I am persistent, some would say contrary. The interaction, the insistence on the new (worse), and the prohibitive cost of reusing made me pretty fuming. It got me thinking about the Right to Repair in Europe, which of course, Brexit has had a hand in scuppering here in the UK. If it’s a struggle to fix something as small as a pair of glasses think of all the tangled, entrenched systems and thought patterns that are bogging down our food system. Our carceral system.And yes, it’s glasses, it’s not that deep. But I’m a poet and a drama queen so it is that deep. Speaking of which I loved Danielle Urban’s Front Porch Threads and the beginning of a series on visible mending. Along with The Restart Project’s work to support the Right to Repair.Spiced Plum JamSince there is not much to report on our progress farm-wise, I will instead report on how I have been filling my days. Now the jetlag has worn off I am diving headfirst into the joys of this season. I have been overloading on festive podcasts, from quick almanacs, to traditional songs, to deep dives into various aspects of Yule. You’ll find these resources dotted throughout the newsletter. One of my favourite activities of the past week, between passing my theory test, countless cover letters and Beta-reading a friend’s book, has been making Plum Jam. We just polished off my mum’s Damson Jam. Damsons, a small subspecies of plum, native to Great Britain but found across Europe. They have a bright, somewhat puckering flavour and make a fantastic Jam. When I was growing up, a Damson tree overhung my grandmother’s front garden. Each year she or my aunt would make Jam from its abundance and dole it out to the rest of the family. It’s a flavour so linked to her and her overflowing garden, to her kitchen-table Britishness. My grandmother’s death towards the end of 2020 spurred me to quit my stable job and pursue farming. She had encouraged me in my love of plants, of food. The loss of her was a catalyst, a flame under the lingering feeling the pandemic had brought on. Four years later, and fresh in the loss of my other grandmother, I’m still sentimental for that stoney fruit. The conversation my mum and I had about jam-making was spurred on by Filler Zine arriving in the post. The eighth issue (the one I’m published in) focuses on the kitchen. A place I could go on about for hours. My piece wove in my emotional connections to Damsons, to a loss of place, to storing food for the long winter ahead. Titled ‘Preservation’ it aimed to capture pickling, when a moment becomes a memory, when food becomes stored energy. I would like to avoid turning this into one of those horrible recipes where you have to scroll through someone’s life story to get to a basic recipe. I won’t even promise you a recipe, this is all story. Story aside, Damsons are close to my heart, but they are no longer in season. So I settled for plums.To make the Jam I stewed diced plums with 10% of the weight of water (800g plums would need 80ml water). Once they began to soften (but not fall apart) I added an equal weight of preserving sugar (800g) and brought the heat down low. Honestly, I think it could have done with less sugar but have yet to really deviate from a recipe (jam is scary at first). At this point, I also added lemon juice, cinnamon and a hint of black pepper. As I stirred the mixture to dissolve the sugar it took on a glossy vibrant texture. I dreamt of painting my imaginary living room walls that colour, of offsetting it with creams and brusk oranges. Once the sugar dissolved I cranked the heat. Watched the rolling boil turn the liquid bubbly and viscous. I should have boiled it for longer, I am no longer listening to recipe times, I am becoming ungovernable. A little earlier than necessary I scooped it into oven-steralised jars and left them in the frigid kitchen to cool overnight. To me, and my mother apparently, jam-making always seemed like a complex and difficult art. Now I’ve made a ok-ish jam I would say it isn’t as mystical and daunting as I first thought. If anything I now want to experiment with more. I also want to take away the fear of the recipe. Though botulism is a real worry, there is enough sugar in jams that I don’t actually have as much to worry about. There is space to experiment. I’ll let you know how it goes. MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here: This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello all,In the vein of thanking people instead of apologising, thank you for your patience. It has been, what some people are calling, one hell of a month.For those of you who are new here, welcome to Scrap Farm, the newsletter/podcast where I discuss running a farm while setting up a farm. But now, dear listener/readers, we are no longer even running a farm. And we don’t quite know what country we will be starting our own farm in. But I’ll get to that in a bit.Since we last spoke a lot has happened. The main points are these:* My Babci (Polish grandmother) died* My partner and I finished work on the farm in Michigan* We moved out of our flat* We flew to the UK and went to a wedding* We viewed land in England* We viewed a house and land in Michigan* We had a meeting with a lawyer about the UK Visa* I flew back to the US for my grandmother’s funeral* My partner drove his belongings from Michigan to California to stay with family* I visited my sister in AustraliaMostly in that order, but you get the gist. And somewhere in there Donald F*****g Trump won a second term. November 2024 will be remembered as one of the longest months of my life. It just. Would. Not. End.With death and change hot on my heels I find myself in a time of deep grief. There are now no living grandparents left (but there is Great Uncle Eddie, who is still absolutely kicking at 96). I feel this loss most keenly in stories I will now never hear. In the now unnamed people and places in my Babci’s photo albums. In all the things I should have asked. The grief sits with me now, a silent party to the upheaval of this time.The tangible loss of my grandmother is now also melded with a liminal loss of place. All my belongings fit into two suitcases. I have spent too much time in airports. Not enough time cooking. Have not stopped moving for more than 6 days at a time. Bouncing between revelry, grief, political unravelling and indecision. My partner and I are in the throws of discussion. We are trying to decide where to live.The options are clear but also cloudy, so I’ll try to lay them out.Farming in the UKAfter talking with a lawyer (for a very affordable price of £100, thanks to the Immigration Advice Service) we have to tread carefully and I have to get a job. For those of you unfamiliar with the UK’s b******t immigration policy a couple needs a combined income of £29k a year to apply for a Visa. Because this is our first time applying, I have to make that entire income myself to get my partner into the country. To prove this I need 6 months worth of paychecks. And realistically I will need to hold down a job for way longer than that. In those 6 months, my partner can visit the UK but he obviously cannot work here, live here or use the NHS. The jury is still out on if he’s allowed to get a driver’s licence. Once I have enough paychecks, and he is physically out of the country we can apply for the Visa. We need all the proof we collected over the past few years and a s**t-tone of money and then to wait several weeks as our fate hangs in the balance. If he is allowed in then he can move over here and bein work on the land. This month we looked at some land near Exeter through the South West Land Match Scheme. The owners of which were very kind and let us visit (and stay overnight) during our whistlestop tour of the UK. The land has an enclosed section with shepherd huts that are likely to be redone into a barn, an orchard of young fruit trees and plenty of water. It is located between 3 market towns and about 30 minutes from Exeter which is ideal for the weekend market. The landowners are not only supportive but pretty cool (helped to set up the foodbank within their village). It’s a solid option. It could be done. We are still in discussion with them and nothing is set in stone just yet.So what are the stumbling blocks? Well, the main one is that I need a Job. Pronto. ASAP. Probably yesterday. Has anyone looked at the job market recently? It’s fierce. I’m out here sending several tailored applications a day and so far, no dice. Add into this the unknown amount of time my partner and I will be apart and the general delay to our being able to farm next year. We’ve agreed we need to get out of thinking we’ll be sorted by March (when the farm work begins), but it’s hard not to think about the loss of growing time this year is likely to cause. There’s also the matter of us both needing UK driving licences (I grew up in London, when would I have needed one), of finding accommodation, of starting over again somewhere that is likely to be only temporary. Oh and in 3 years we’d have to do the VISA all over again.But then there are the advantages. The political climate is less volatile. Yes, that’s with Keir Stahmer being a pro-genocide, anti-immigrant, neo-liberal wet tea towel. But it’s less on the verge of a civil war. There are also better things about the UK as a whole; public transport, the NHS (what remains of it), the lack of guns in schools, the proximity to my friends and family. The last two points are especially vital if we are to eventually start a family of our own. Not owning land would also give us flexibility and freedom, having support from the landowners and the LWA would be really helpful. Me having to have a job for at least some of the time would mean we don’t have to plough through all our savings immediately. Farming in the USThen there’s the other side of things. A side I have resisted for a while now but is a viable option that needs to be properly considered. My partner and I looked at land near where we have been living in Michigan. It was, unfortunately, close to perfect. 5 acres, with a beautiful 100-year-old barn, a farmhouse, a duck pond, an orchard, a mini-greenhouse and apparently some cats come with the property. Oh, and the owners seemed to like us and are in no rush to sell. It doesn’t however have a well, is surrounded on all sides by industrial agriculture and costs quite a f*****g lot. To get this land we would have to go through the process of applying for a loan through the USDA. We’re currently adapting our business plan to the area to see if we would even be eligible for the loan. If we managed to get the loan and buy the property we would then have a mortgage to pay. Something not insignificant when starting a small business from scratch. But on the other hand, the land would be ours. Which is a wild thing to me as I made peace pretty early on with the fact I would never get on the property market. But now here is the option to do so and I honestly don’t know what to do with it.So what are the stumbling blocks here? One would be getting well on the property, without which we would be unable to water crops. Another would be actually qualifying for the USDA loan. Then there’s the political situation in the US. Not looking very hopeful in terms of POC/women’s/LGBTQ+ rights, or environmental protections, or curbing the exponential rise of fascism. But then, how privileged is it of me to run away when things start looking bad? To take an option that so few people have, to just leave when there is good to be done and people to be fed. Conversely, does that mean I have a saviour complex if I do stay? There’s also the emotional aspect of it all. We have been telling people for the past year we’re moving to the UK, roadblock after roadblock, time after time. We said goodbye to our friends under these conditions. And I thought I might finally live near some of my family again. It feels selfish to stay and selfish to go.But again, there are advantages. We know the area. In the past two years, we have built up a (pretty good) reputation with businesses and other farmers. There is a thriving local food scene which we were, until recently, a part of. That isn’t something small, the connections we made are strong and tended with care, and we wouldn’t have to start from scratch. The land itself has been used for growing organically and has all the buildings we would actually need to succeed (except a high tunnel). Not only that but we could own a house, and if it all went to s**t business-wise we could sell that house and get the money back (as someone who has paid more than £30k in rent so far in her life that is a real plus). No one would have to get a driver’s licence. Or a Visa. The no Visa would free up a big ol’ chunk of change we could put towards a high tunnel. But then we would have to pay a deposit on a house so either way these choices are expensive. Oh, and it’s sunny there (which cannot be said of the UK). So here we are, the decision of it. The stretching thin on both our parts to keep both options open. To not yet close a door so we don’t yet have to climb out the window. It’s homeownership and political unrest on one side and housing instability, family and free healthcare on the other. What a f*****g choice. In all this, I have to remind myself what we’re actually working towards. It’s pretty funny that I’ve been using the ‘three pillars’ of what matters to me when applying for jobs, but I need to hark back to them now. Somewhat more sincerely. Connection, Nourishment and Knowledge. That’s what matters. Growing and supplying nutritious vegetables. Supporting the whole damn ecosystem. Building resilient communities, empowering them and sharing whatever information I can. No gatekeeping. Tearing down barriers to entry. And I’d like to do all this with my partner. That’s the core of it.Wherever we end up this is what we are committing to doing. There will be people to feed, to get to know, to train and encourage, to learn from. There will be a community to join and mould. And if there isn’t we will make one. Wherever we choose will be the right choice and we will try so hard to make it work.Honestly, a part of me just wants to skip to that part, to the hard work of it, instead of the tedium of decision. But there is no way to fast forward this time. Instead, we need to sit in it. The uncomfortable gestation of

Welcome back to Scrap Farm, the podcast/newsletter where I talk about starting a farm, while running a farm, amid a climate in crisis.First off, Happy Birthday to my Father. Here’s a cute picture of him and my baby sister next to some Dahlias that were definitely never smuggled. I have very fond memories of being on the allotment with him, too small to understand the magnitude of plants but big enough to eat a whole artichoke head on the reg.Housekeeping (not that my father turning 49 for the 19th time is housekeeping, of course) out the way, time for the heavy stuff. At times I find it hard to strike the balance, to show the scenes of pastoral life while also paying heed to the climatic changes underway. Anyone seen the first-of-its-kind hurricane Kirk heading towards Europe for Wednesday morning? Or Milton going from CAT1 to CAT5 in a matter of hours (and reaching the mathematical limit for a hurricane)? The devastation wrought through Ashville NC is still so fresh. It’s not a sneak preview of the years to come. This is it. It only gets worse. Ah, lighthearted. A good way to start.Crops and cyclones aren’t the only things on my mind of late. It has been a year since the siege on Gaza began. Since Israel let loose their colonial fury in unrestrained and violent ways. More brazen than ever before. It has been a year of genocide on all our screens and s**t all done to stop it. Not to mention the ongoing displacement, murder and modern slavery in (but not limited to) the Congo.It feels flippant to talk about Winter Squash harvests and cutting down the Okra next to a backdrop of genocide. And to mention them just briefly feels like lip service. Simply to cover my ass, so that history looks favourably on me. That is not the intention. But it may be the outcome.As I write this, I try not to go off-scope. I have been trying to focus on what I stated I would talk about: the current farm, the future farm, the search for land, the realities of farming, small scale, as ethically as possible (within the bounds of late-stage capitalism), but MY GOD. It feels so small. Pastoral in the worst sense of the word. Insular and insulting. All of these problems are connected. Climate change is interwoven with colonialism, which is tied to land use and water access. Nothing exists in a vacuum. But how the f**k can I reconcile writing about planting spinach while more than half of Gaza’s farmland has now been damaged by ‘conflict’. At times, honestly, I can’t.Current Farm UpdatesAs this season comes to a close I have finally had a chance to catch my breath. Whether it has been the unrelentingness of being one of the only full-time employees or the juggling present and future, in truth my partner and I are burning out.We’re too tired to think straight. And yes it feels whiney to say this within the same few sentences as literal genocide. But it also points to the realities of the time in which we live. Where people are too tired just trying to survive to look up and realise everyone else is suffering too. You can still know it, it can still stop you in your tracks every so often, and yet, you still have to pay rent. You still have to go to work.So we went to work. We paid rent.The squash field which we had all but abandoned after two mass weeding events has managed to yield a metric fucktonne of Winter Squash as well as some beautiful pumpkins for the most intrepid U-Pickers. Most of the squash we have been harvesting, at one point it was 800 lbs per day, have been found with our feet. As we push through the heavy grass that has grown up we happen upon an ankle-turning, hard, delicious prize. You may ask, and it would be fair to, why the weeding got so out of hand. After talking about planting the full 5 acres by hand (Read it here: Heat Shook) we have several successful rounds of eco-weeding. This involves driving the tractor between the rows of squash and dragging a contraption (the eco-weeder) behind which has spinning claw hands that rip out weeds. The problem comes when the squash plants decide they don’t want to grow in perfectly straight rows but instead venture out into the ‘pathways’ in search of more nutrients and sunlight. Apparently, squash plants don’t like being run over, so our weeding gets halted in its tracks. For anyone asking why we don’t just use a herbicide, I would say mass extermination in any form is pretty unconscionable and leave it at that. So we harvested squash. And there’s still more out there. We have also taken down all of our outside tomatoes. Gone. Done. Dusted. We have put some absolutely beautiful silage tarps on out on our weediest blocks. This will take advantage of a process called Occultation, where the tarps will trap the last of the October sun and bake the plants underneath. Allowing weed seeds to germinate but not giving them any light until removed in the spring. This is just one of many ways to prevent weeds organically. And honestly favourable to having to weed manually. This will happen eventually no matter what we do (though as the seed bank depletes and tillage remains off the table it gets easier every year).The cucumbers are still going strong which is a surprise and not likely to last. We have some cold nights coming and those babies are toast. But I’ll make one more dish with them while they’re here. Ah, seasonal living.Speaking of, my partner and I have eaten a winter squash a day for the past couple weeks. All the ones about to rot as they cure in the greenhouse. We’ve been loving the Sunshine Kobocha and the Dessert Spirit Culinary Landrace along with the Delicata (a classic). They have been cooked simply, sliced, tossed in olive oil and salt and baked until browning. Dipped in Siracha Mayo. Dang. That’s Autumn right there. Over the coming weeks, we’ll be extracting more plants. This Saturday marks the 24th AND FINAL week of our CSA. It could not have come sooner. I think possibly a CSA that runs for nearly half a year with no break is a lot. I will be glad to be taking it slower no matter what we do next year. After that final CSA pickup comes the team potluck and then in just three weeks we’ll fly to London.Future Farm UpdatesWe’re flying to London to go to my cousin’s wedding. Sorry to get your hopes up about the future farm. We are currently in the hushed silence waiting period as our Business Plan is being read by the landowners we sent it to. No pressure. No big deal. Thank goodness no one is panicking.But for real, I have managed, finally, after a long conversation with my mother, been able to obtain some peace on the matter. Noting is getting sorted this week. Or next week. Or honestly even next month. I have now promised myself ‘No decisions until December’, since it seems at this point I’m too fraught to do anything well let alone smartly. And that is pretty freeing. I’m hopeful for the land in the UK. I have put out feelers for jobs that I can get to help with the visa process (and initial starting-a-business costs). My partner and I have talked about Plan B and Plan C. And none of those plans need a decision now. So if we wind ourselves up over it we’ll be worse equipped to make those choices.Capitalism wants us to rush. Wants us to believe in scarcity. That if someone else has something it means I can’t have it too. That’s a lie. And I can’t be asked with it.We’re going to work on other business plans, we’re going to hopefully talk to landowners. We’re going to make something work. But first rest. And a bit more squash to harvest. MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here: This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello all,Welcome to Scrap Farm, formerly Scrap Kitchen, where I talk about starting a farm while also running a farm. Why the name change you ask? Or maybe you didn’t. Mostly because, while I love the kitchen, hell I’ve spent most of today there making salves and Paprika, I am actually trying to make a farm. As wonderful as the kitchen is, I’m sure it’s pretty confusing to pretty much anyone trying to find info on farming to see something labelled ‘Kitchen’ that’s actually about ‘Farm’.Justifications aside, it’s once again been a busy couple of weeks.I have recovered from my wisdom tooth extraction and have a jawline again (rejoice). My jawline arrived just in time for my partner to leave to go visit his family in California (hello Goodmans!), which left me the solo manager of the farm. This also coincided with the big ol’ Winter Squash harvest. We managed to finish just 6 minutes before the first raindrops fell. So now our bounty of squash are tucked up safe in the greenhouse, curing and thankfully dry. This week I also gave a Seed Keeping talk/demonstration at Bellville Library. And this time eight people showed up. That's seven more than last time! We talked through selection, collection, cleaning, storage and more. It felt really wonderful to share something I’m passionate about with people who asked lots of questions and were excited to winnow for themselves. I might look in to doing some more seed talks virtually and in person over the winter to keep this knowledge-sharing going. If you can think of a group or business that might be interested in a talk on Seed Keeping, get in touch. This week we also had a Girl Scout troop out to the farm. Ten or so eight-year-olds were let loose on the tomatoes, they tried the nasturtiums and dragon tongue beans, trailed through the spinach shoots and helped us with our squash harvest. Many tiny hands make light work. It was wonderful to see them try each vegetable, especially since it was reported after that they "don’t usually eat those at home”. One of the greatest perks of this job, especially the U-Pick element is getting to see children interact with where their food comes from. There are many times when a customer will do something heinous (ripping herbs out by the roots or harvesting 50lbs of tomatoes, deciding they don’t want them and HIDING them for us to find a week later), but when I watch a tiny person peer up at pea plants or stroll purposefully towards their favourite vegetable it makes it all worth it.Aside from the massive harvest and the influx of children, there was little to report on the farm over the past two weeks. The outside tomatoes have died the death and the inside ones are hanging on by a thread. Literally. We trellis them with string. But also it’s a metaphor. The tomatoes in the harsh outdoors die faster because we don’t trip them like we do the inside ones (which we baby, and for good reason). They are left to grow as much as they can before the blight sets in. And boiiii has it set in.The mornings here have been misty as all heck. A real pea-souper, as they say. Driving in has been like driving into a dream. Some days it doesn’t burn off until the afternoon, but as the last of the summer sun breaks through it gets even prettier.Our sunflowers have been providing a lot of food for the local birds and more are chattering on them than ever. This time last year two massive murmurations of migrating birds came through and stopped us in our work. Thinking back to the non-Newtonian movement of hundreds of birds in the crisp autumn air is pretty magical. I hope we get to see some again.In other farm news, the corn has gifted us with huitlacoche. This is a delicious type of fungus that grows out of the corn kernels or off of it’s tassels. In Mexico, it is considered a delicacy and you can purchase it fresh or canned. Sadly it is less well known in the US but it to have it growing on our corn seems like an honour. Fungus abound this week as our King Stropharis/Garden Giant/Wine Cap mushrooms are loving the cooler weather and are springing up from their woodchip home by the dozens. We planted them along the high tunnel in the spring, over the season their mycelium spread and now the rain has brought on flush after flush. Future Farm UpdatesBig movements on this front. Our business plan is officially in and we are scheduling a call with a prospective land partner in about two weeks. It feels too good to be true to even get this far so I don’t want to jinx it by oversharing. Sufficed to say we are excited, the land seems really cool and I have a little kernel of hope lodged betwixt my ribs.We’ve also been in contact with a lawyer to discuss the finer details of our visa application (as succinctly as possible since lawyers are not cheap) and that will give us the push/advice we need. It’s only a month before we fly to the Uk and in that time we have to sell a car, get rid of a lot of stuff, get some more info on the visa and ideally work towards getting a land agreement. And we have to do three more weeks of CSA and get the farm ready for winter. It seems improbable. Daunting. And yet we must do it. So we’re battering down, getting our s**t together, and doing all that.I’ll let you know how it goes.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here: This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi all,I’m back on schedule. And more importantly, I can speak again (to read this out). I had my final wisdom tooth out last Thursday and can only just eat toast and stand up. Both of which I do pretty slowly. Oop, getting ahead of myself.Welcome to Scrap Kitchen, the newsletter/podcast where I detail the running of a farm (in the US), the starting of a farm (in the UK) and all the mess in between.If I’m being honest, which I try to be, I have spent very little time on the farm of late. My partner has been keeping the wheels on the thing as I recover. He could do it without me, and yet there is the silly (probably rooted in capitalism and imperialism) feeling that I’m letting him and the team down while staying home. As I recover. From Surgery. Embarrassing really that the hustle-culture, work till you drop mindset has so permeated, even after all this time. All this purposeful unpicking. But thankfully when I slip back into the ‘grindset’ my partner reminds me that it’s b******t and I need to rest. To be honest in the state I was in I’d be no use to anyone. Escaping the internal rat race aside, Zachary, my beloved, the man whomst I am doing all this farming with, turned 30 last week! The big three zeroTo celebrate, a lot of his friends came to the farm. We ate venison burgers, beetroot carpaccio, TikTok courgette, kale caesar salad, seared beans, and tabouli. Almost all of it grown (or hunted) on the land. It felt wonderful to cook with the vegetables we laboured over. To meld flavours and marry textures we work with every day. To feed those we care about with food we care about. It made me want to do more potlucks. To have more opportunities to cook for those around me. To nourish and be nourished. And my gods to celebrate. What a man! I love him quite a lot.My Cioci (Polish for Aunt) also got a year older this week! Big fan of the Virgos in my life. Happy birthday to her!Oh s**t, oh s**t. We also had a whole interview in the local paper. The reporter decided I was a they/they as opposed to a she/they but at least they spelt my name right. Current Farm UpdatesAs my first task since standing, I accompanied Zach on a delivery. We dropped off 350 units of Aubergine to a local hospital that runs a CSA scheme for over 400 people. The food hub, out of which the CSA is run, also puts on events for the community; teaching people how to store, process, plant and preserve their produce. Over the winter they also had speakers come in for farmers to keep us up-to-date on health and safety practices (during our less busy time). It’s a pretty cool operation.To prepare for orders like this we intentionally planned and planted vast amounts of Aubergine. We chose those of similar sizes but varying days to maturity to ensure that we have a consistent supply throughout the season. Within the similar shapes there are various patterns and colours these Aubergine fall into; deep black-purple, white and violet striped, lilac on a summer’s eve. It’s beautiful to see the variety that this plant has to offer.At the rate they have been growing, we have been harvesting as often as possible. At their peek in August we were harvesting every other day. While tiny Aubergines are delicious that is not the most commercially viable size to harvest them. Thankfully they are equally delicious at full size (about as long as a pair of garden trimmers or a harvest knife). Once harvested they are kept in our Tomato Cooler (a warmer purpose-built cooler that stops Solanaceae from becoming mush in colder temps). If you keep the humidity to a minimum, they can be stored for almost a week (though they are usually sold within a couple of days). The day before delivery we individually weigh ‘units’ of Aubergine to ensure they are a pound or more. No disappointed customers on our watch. For those under the threshold, they are doubled up to make the correct weight. We also pick out ‘seconds’, Aubergines that are starting to look matte instead of shiny, ones that look white (indicating they are going to seed) and any that have not held up in storage. 350 units later we are ready for delivery.Simple. Large orders aside we are preparing for our winter squash harvest. Just three days ago we had the first hint of frost. A flirtation with freezing temperatures overnight. Thank goodness it happened when it did because we had been busy fixing the sides of the greenhouse which refused to close (a wire had fallen loose). The unclosing sides had been a real problem last week as a massive storm rolled in. Dumping 2.5 inches horizontally into the greenhouse and onto our baby seedlings. The swift clip changes of torrential rain, to overnight chill, to the threat of several 29°C days this week, has not escaped me. Climate change giving us all the options in a two-week period.Once we survive this hot week, it might just be time. Winter Squash. In all it’s autumnal glory. The delicate timing between giving them as much growth as possible while attached to the plant, but also harvesting in time that night frost doesn’t damage the squash itself. With choices like this one must be decisive.In other news, we have passed our final seeding week. It is now the 37th week of 2024 (how has that happened so fast?). We planned to finish seeding/planting by week 36. This is mainly so that we can leave with a clear conscience at the end of October knowing the team doesn’t have to do a lot of cleanup/harvest without us. The delicious Hakurei turnips we seeded last week will be harvested the week we fly to the UK for my cousin’s wedding. Which at this point is only 6 weeks away (yikes). From now on, the only things we will plant are those that are already getting a head start in the greenhouse and maybe some microgreens (as a treat). It feels surreal to be thinking of packing up the year. But in the false Autumn that was the past fortnight, as the mornings clung to darkness for just a little longer each day, it began to feel real. There are plenty of projects to wrap up, and so much left to harvest, but the work is slowing. And it is glorious. Rest, when it is possible, is delicious. Future Farm UpdatesHere we go!Thanks to the phenomenal South West Land Match scheme (and absolute top don Rachael) we have made first contact with landowners. Potential hosts for our farm next year. We have sent them two intro paragraphs. A 38-page business plan. Our combined CV. And a very earnest Cover Letter. And all of our hopes and dreams. No biggie.As we wait for a response, or at least as we begin outreach, we are also looking into Immigration lawyers. I have a couple of good leads (thanks to my mother) for people to ask, very concisely, because time is money, what exactly we will need to submit the visa. To prove we intended to earn above the threshold for application.Things are looking up. And October is coming on fast. We are not, I may say, putting all our eggs in one basket. There are other sites on the Land Match Site, for which we are adapting the business plan. We are ready to think about other options. But also, Autumn is a time for dreaming. For the cold wind-stirrings of change. In this time, as darkness descends, I am taking a moment to dream a little. To think seriously and honestly about the farm we will make. Not just the logistics of an international move but also the feeling that starting something this big will muster. And (as something to work towards) the feeling of what it might be like to have built something beautiful. To have woven it into the community, to feed and provide for and share knowledge with those around us. How we want the farm to feel.It reminds me of a wonderful podcast by Becca Piastrelli as she sat in the gestational phase of moving to the countryside. She envisioned the plants she wanted to grow, the events she wanted to hold. It was a gentle dream that she trusted her listeners with. An honour to hold it between my ears. Now is a time for hope and visions. And the moment we get an email back, for honest and hard work. And I can’t wait.Talk to you all laterMFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello, I’m here. I’m fine. I’m tired.Welcome to Scrap Kitchen, the Podcast/Newsletter where I (intermittently) talk about running a farm, starting a farm and growing good food in this mixed-up climate.For a moment there, as my partner and I ventured North to drink wine and swim in lakes and not work for 4 days, it felt like Autumn. The air chilled, the leaves began their tantalising dance of changing colours and I got a glimpse of rest.And now it’s 32°C. Will there ever be a newsletter/podcast instalment where I don’t talk about how the climate is changing? Not bloody likely.But it has been a while. A damn while. A long few months of radio silence.Almost so long it is awkward to come back here and write, this, to speak it. But also not because my dad keeps asking when the next ‘Scrappy Kitchen’ will be, so I’m doing it for him. Question number 1: Does anyone know any immigration lawyers for the UK?We’ve had a setback. Or as I want to call it, a switchback. Like we’re climbing up a mountain pass and it’s just too steep to go straight up. So zig-zagging, at times it feels like there is no end or reason to the hairpin turns, but eventually, when you crest the hill, when you break through the clouds, you’ll see what you’ve climbed.Anyways. We’ve had a switchback.My partner and I do not meet the financial requirements for a family visa. It’s as simple as that. I’ve been joking that we just can’t read and somehow misconstrued the minimum cash-saving requirement. But really it’s purposefully vague. Obtuse. To be allowed into the country you need to prove that our combined income will be £29k a year. Which honestly was (by pure coincidence) the amount we were planning on earning in our second year. But certainly not in our first. We have some cash savings but not enough to make up for £29k a year for 3 years (I mean, who has that much, honestly).So now we need proof. More than a business plan. More than all our bank accounts and texts going back several years (so that they can see we are in fact a real couple). And honestly, we need advice. The plan is as follows: Submit a business plan. Get a land agreement. Set up UK LLC. Get lawyer to look it all over. Get any extra paperwork. Apply for Visa. Get Visa. Move everything we own to the UK. Find flat, get driver’s licences. Farm.Easy.Easy.It’s certainly not happening before November.Oh and at the same time keep the current farm running and set them up for the transition of us leaving. No big deal.So I ask again: Does anyone know an immigration lawyer?Current Farm UpdatesWe are in fruit season. In one day we managed to harvest 240 pints of Cherry Tomatoes and a total of 600 lbs. In. One. Day.That’s not to mention the Aubergine and Peppers pumping out fruit like nobody's business. Every day that we work there is some form of harvest. Which is wonderful, abundant, exhausting. As I write this we are entering week 35 of the year. It is wild that we are that far into 2024. Within the plan that we made last winter, which details the crops we will plant, when, where, how many, predicted harvest etc. we were looking to finish planting everything by week 36. That means the final round of Asian greens is already starting. The onion seeds we collected last week are going to be germ-tested and used for green onion seedlings. It means everything in the ground just has to last a couple more months.This time of year is also a great one for seed saving. Over the season we have been leaving little painters-tape notes on which plants are looking best of the tomatoes, which fruited the earliest, which are standing up to disease. Over the next week, I will be selecting fruits from the hardiest plants. I’ll also be looking for fruits that are the right size, shape and colour, to maintain the distinct varieties of each tomato. Then I’ll be fermenting the seeds in their own juices for a few days to imitate the digestion process. Then comes washing and drying. Easy as that you have saved tomato seeds. For farmers who are teetering on the edge of burnout at this time of year (vibes) the idea of saving seed can seem like just another thing to do. Another unending task. But the reward far outshines the work of it. The tomato seeds we saved last year have produced the strongest plants this year, they were earlier to fruit and seem to hold up better to our methods of trellising. By saving seed we are literally selecting plants that do best in our farm conditions. The loss of saving seeds is relatively new. Only in the past 100 years have farmers stopped selecting their own best plants. Sometimes it has been made out to be too difficult, time or expertise-wise, but that is a straight-up lie. After spending months with these plants the farmer knows them better than anyone. Who better to pick the best ones? The only barrier is knowing how. I digress. That’s just one of the small tasks in making the farm a little more self-contained. But mostly at this point in the season we are reaping the benefits of our hard work and keeping the plants alive for a couple more months.Oh and itching to harvest Winter Squash.Winter Squash is a trick one to harvest. In places that frost earlier, like where we trained in Colorado the first frost is used to kill off the plants, the squash are harvested (usually in one day) and the left to cure over several months. The curing process is seen as their stem turning from green to woody brown. Inside the squash, other changes are taking place; the flesh becomes a darker orange and the BRIX reading increases over time as the natural sugars build up. Curing helps winter squash be stored for long periods of time. And boy am I ready for winter squash recipes. The most autumnal of flavours.But first, the plants must die back. And the harvested squash must cure. Farming is patience, yet again. Future Farm UpdatesThis is the real reason for my absence. My partner Zach and I have now completed our 40+ page business plan for our farm. It has a name. It has the shape of an actual business. It has countless spreadsheets (9 per location we’re tailoring it to, I s**t you not). It has heft. And pictures. And it has consumed us.But currently, it is being looked over before we send it off. It will be sent off via the South West Land Match scheme run by the Landworkers Alliance. It’s a hopeful hurry-up-and-wait kind of time. Aside from the gut-punch switchback of the Visa process, we’re in surprisingly good shape to actually begin proposing our business to people. Which is a nice place to be. Finally.We set ourselves a deadline for the business plan to be finished (the week before we went up North) and managed to get it done in time. So now comes the adapting. Each of the sites we are applying to has different markets, different potential customers and varying site details. Once our initial plan gets the OK we’re jumping on adapting it to the 4 other sites we’re interested in. It’s a hopeful, heart-in-throat kind of time.Thanks for sticking with it.I mean it about that lawyer.See you next timeMFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi y’all,Welcome back to Scrap Kitchen the newsletter/podcast where I chat to you about my endeavours to run a farm, start a farm and stay sane in the process.You may have noticed, eagle-eyed followers, that it has been nearly 3 weeks since my last update. If you haven’t noticed, or you’re new here, welcome. And now you know. My reasons for this absence are multiple and various; the heat, an anniversary, big projects and more heat.Last Monday my partner and I (with whom I am running the current farm, and am trying to start our own farm) celebrated our three-year anniversary. One of the volunteers on the farm shared some advice with us that her neighbour told her. Birthdays will happen no matter what you do, but anniversaries you have to work for. Celebrate accordingly.So we did.We took the bus into Detroit (gotta love a public transport system that works), we stayed in an old hotel, walked our way around in 40°C heat, scooted to the newly refurbished station and capped the night off with one of the best meals of my life (and a pumping wine bar on a Monday night). It was wonderful. It was glorious. Having time off is glorious. Having time off with this dude that I love so dearly is even better.So that was one reason.The other main reason is the 35°C days all last week, the pressing, cloying heat snatching any motivation that dared to exist outside of essential tasks. We rose before the sun, at about 5:40, in work for 7, harvest, cull cucumber beetles, trellis, trim, and tap out at 2 pm when the heat becomes unbearable. We’re not alone in this. Between this last May and this one 6.3 billion people experienced a month or more of abnormally high temperatures.Yes, of course, it made me climate anxious. At the front of my mind was the heat India has been facing. The wet-bulb temps. The 50°C streaks on the map, a black colour denoting the blistering heat, so hot it surpasses red. Like the bitter coals of a fire. And it’s worse than that, worse than an infographic, or stylised map. There are people in Mungeshpur and Rajasthan feeling that. Living in that. There are people not surviving it.Part of the brutality of the climate crisis is that the countries least responsible are bearing the brunt. Those along the equator, living in increasingly uninhabitable conditions, faring the worst. While those in the global north, whose “industry” and imperialism caused this catastrophe get more manageable effects. A reduced sentence. Injustice abound.This is not to say that the heat here was any less dangerous. That the baking concrete of Detroit didn’t serve to highlight how cities become hot houses and those redlined and underprivileged (purposefully so) will fare the worst. Injustice nestles itself between tree-free streets and in undrinkable water. When you’re in the middle of a field, the sun beaming down, when the shade is still stifling and you realise you are drenched in sweat, it’s hard to look outwards. To not be in the animal husk of your body, to be present. But at the same time it is so easy to feel the looming heat. The locking in of 1.5°C of warming. At best. At best!And we are lucky enough to be able to leave. To prioritise the wellness of the team. The exploited migrant workforce certainly does not get to call it quits in this temperature. Our farm isn’t like that but it is also not the norm for this country. All this to say, farm workers are on the front lines of the climate crisis. And I recognise every day that I am one of the privileged ones. Current Farm UpdatesAs my beloved has been saying “It’s wonderful weather for plants. Terrible for humans.”We have been seeing a flush of all our summer fruits, bursting into dark-green being. The tomatoes are days away from their first fruit. The plant that will produce it was grown from last year’s seed and has been earmarked for seed saving again this year. Just another reminder of the power of seed, of selecting and breeding crops that grow well in your conditions. That in growing them (indeed of storing seeding in some bank, where it has no chance to adapt), we are stabilising the varieties against an ever-changing climate. So Tomatoes are on the horizon.As are peppers, cucumbers, dahlias, cabbage and more.This year we spent the winter planning out the crops with the intention of fulfilling more wholesale orders. Like everything else, wholesale has its upsides and downsides. On the upside, you can make a good chunk of change from selling 300 bunches of green onions. Not only that but having an outlet or two that can take a vast quantity of produce is good for not letting what you grow go to waste. Conversely, there is a drop in price that you can ask for when it comes to wholesale, the quantity necessitates a discount. It might be a large sum of money but you’re getting less per unit. Ah, choices choices.Anyways at the start of this year, we decided to prioritise wholesale orders. There are two large CSAs (veg box schemes) in the area, with 250 and 370 shares apiece. Our aim was to grow enough to be able to deliver one large order once per week of either green onions, Asian greens or kale/chard. We based our crop plan around this. Mostly we have been able to stick to the plan, with a good-sized order heading out each week. But there have been hiccoughs. The heat has caused the Asian greens to bolt (start producing flowers) so they had to be harvested earlier than expected, thus reducing our yield. The chard was absolutely ravaged by Deer, not once but thrice. And that’s not taking into account the market. There are other local farms also supplying these schemes, they might already have a supply for Asian greens that week, or kale, or whatever. Where I’m going with all this is that we are on track for our plans but the weather is as fickle as the market. Just another of the realities that farms and small businesses must deal with. Another choice to make. On a lighter note, the strawberries we planted this spring are producing berries. The intense heat and evening-break thunderstorms have agreed with them. We are still open for U-Pick which is a great way to connect with the local community.Not only that but we managed to plant our field of winter squash. All 5 acres of it. By hand. In the rain.It was actually a wonderful drizzle that was very cooling. And the fresh tilled field (one of the only places we do till on the farm) was a pleasure to walk in bare foot. To measure out 1.5m in steps and place carefully two fat little seeds into the waiting earth. A good way to spend a morning. And now their round cotyledons (first leaves) are popping out of the dirt. Next will come the weeding, then the unruly tangle of vines.The planting of the winter squash field, which will be U-Pick Pumpkins and squash come autumn, was our last big project of the season. We had the tour of 750 people (a hectic but fun day), we planted all our high-value crops (tomatoes, peppers, aubergine etc), we survived asparagus season ( no more 7-day weeks). So here we are, out the other side. Ready to reap the rewards of several months of work.From now on our weeks fall into a predictable pattern. As comforting as the sound of train wheels or the consistent patter of rain at night. Wednesday, harvest. Thursday, trim and trellis our tomatoes and cucumbers. Friday, Harvest. Saturday, sell at the farmstand, coordinate volunteers for big tasks and distribute our CSA. Sunday, harvest wholesale orders.It’s doable. It’s rewarding. It’s time to ease into the rest of the year.Future Farm UpdatesWith more time on our hands (finally) we have been able to get back to the business of finding land. We’ve reached out for information on serval sites offered by the South West Land Match and are currently researching each one to find potential clients/partners/businesses within each area. It’s pretty exciting to imagine all the possibilities these spaces hold. To try to picture what life you might lead there, who you might work with and how you might feel. Then to think critically, business-ly about how you might make that life. What you need to get ready, to get good at.We are also weeks away from submitting the Visa application (just waiting on an updated passport). Everything is both coming together and up in the air all at once. It’s a time of great potential and lots of spreadsheets.Hopefully, soon we will be able to submit our plans for review by the landowners and get into conversation about how we might work together. And when we do I will keep you updated. For now, we shall sit in the fertile moment of unending possibility. For now, we will enjoy the manageable 27°C rainy day.Later,MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi All,Welcome to Scrap Kitchen. The newsletter/podcast where I document managing a farm in the US, while trying to find a future farm in the UK. Where I find joy in the privilege of getting paid to work outside while the planet burns around us. Sounds a bit dire, doesn’t it? And at times it feels a bit dire. With temperatures reaching over 50°C in India (reminiscent of the horrific opening chapter of Ministry for the Future), 14,000 acres of current wildfires in California and the ongoing genocide in both the Congo and Palestine.I’m not here to tell you that farming, regenerative or otherwise will save us (though to some extent I believe it will). In the same way I think voting alone, when in both my countries the candidates are so blegh (and by this I mean Labour is racist, no longer supports labourers and is a general disgrace, but what option do we have, divide the vote and let the Tories win again?), won’t save us.But I have found, and this is just personal experience, that the climate anxiety subsides. Hell, the general anxiety that I feel at the state of the world has been somewhat helped by physically doing something about it. By growing food, day in and day out. Smoke, or rain or almost non-existent snow. Through last year’s drought to this year’s early heat. The only thing that has kept me from panicking is having hands in the dirt and physically seeing people light up when they pick a tomato or try a turnip for the first time. In knowing that what we feed people wasn’t grown at the expense of the land we steward or the people that grow it (big up a living wage). And for that, I will always be grateful.Current Farm UpdatesBy the end of this week, I was feeling pretty exhausted, as was the whole team. We have been pushing our way through May and the end seems almost in sight. I mean technically it’s June, but still, we have two more big projects to go. For now we can celebrate thousands of plants in the ground, weeded, watered, fed, and tended. And so so much harvesting.In total, I think we harvested over 2800 lbs of Asparagus.And we sold every single stem.Now comes the cyclical nature of farming. Suddenly it isn’t Asparagus season any more. We opened up our 4 acres of Strawberries for U-Pick this weekend. In poured the public and suddenly it is Strawberry Season.Now come (hopefully) six weeks of people picking luscious red berries, of children dressed as strawberries, their faces covered with the spoils of the field. There’s a running joke that we should weigh children before and after they “pick” strawberries. But really, how much can a five-year-old eat? And what could be better for showing them where their food comes from?While some part of me was dreaming of the day when we would have consecutive days off, another part of me is already mourning the end of Asparagus. To nourish the part of me that will want Asparagus in a few months I have saved several pounds of seconds (unsellable flowering stems) and frozen it for a later date.Side note: I was going to say to combat this, which made me pause. How much of our language is warfare? How insidious the military-industrial complex, the ongoing colonialist values, that instead of thinking of saving food for a later date as a gift to one’s future self it is instead an act of combat. An extension of war. To fight a feeling. To quash a need. I’m working on changing how I write, and by extension how I think. Side Side Note: Thinking on the violence in the language I use then brings me back to the incredible breakdown by ismatu gwendolyn of i start with the recognition that we are at war, conversations with Toni Cade Bambara. In it, Bambara explains that our responsibility to ourselves and others is to tell the truth, and within that truth is power. War is ongoing; the war on drugs, on People of Colour, the war on the poor and working class, the control and use of resources. We are still as at war as we were when she said this is 1983. To not recognise that every day is a fallacy. An untruth. Bringing the side notes together: Both these things can be true at once, that we are at war and also seeking peace. To not acknowledge this war, or an ongoing genocide say, is burying your head in the sand. At the same time, you can work towards peace, in your thoughts, in your communities, in your actions that stand up for those in active marginalisation, in the way you spend your time and your money and your life. All of this from waiting to ‘combat’ a future need for asparagus.I digress. This time of year is one of rapid growth. it feels like if you look away for a second a bed can get overrun with weeds. A full cabbage can spring up overnight. Asparagus can grow up to 8 inches per day (thank f**k that’s over).We have two more tasks on the horizon, to plant 5 acres of winter squash and pumpkins by hand and to have a farm tour of 750 people descend on us next weekend. No big deal. Last year we seeded that field of squash amidst the smoke of Canada wildfires but the weeds got away from us (the eco weeder was not repaired in time) and our work was for naught. That was somewhat of a blow if I’m being honest. This year we are hoping to refine our methods, straighter lines, quicker seeding (no bending only burying with your foot) and the Eco-Weeder is ready to go. We’re hopeful for the thousands of pounds of pumpkins and winter squash that will spring up from that patch.As for the tour, bring it on I guess. We’re working on better signage for the U-Pick block and have gotten together a farm map and brochure so we should be set. Hopefully. Maybe.This week I’m looking forward to our first tomatoes which had been flirting with ripeness for the past week. We might also be doing our first wholesale order of Green Onions (hopefully 350 bunches). Oh and we harvested a lot of kale last week which was glorious! The chard is still struggling under the deer pressure, and who can blame them it is delicious. And the Peas can finally be harvested (though mostly they are a snack as we walk past them). Lots to come. Lots to do. Can’t wait, honestly.Future Farm UpdatesWe’re currently talking with an incubator scheme in the south of England and are hoping to have a call with them soon. Then, if we fit well, submit a business plan to them this month. We are still working on the land match scheme business plan and now we won’t be working 200 hours this month we might actually have more time to do it. The unions were really on to something when they fought for weekends, am I right ladies?I’ve also been in touch with various contacts sent my way (thanks Mum) who run farming collectives or their own farms. But I am well aware that this time of year is the WORST for farmers so am not expecting fast replies for another month or so. Maybe more. Usually, things fully calm down in September. Ah, cyclical living.Anyways, we are on the crest of the body/mind-consuming work of our current farm and looking forward to having a little more time to work towards the future farm. Ok, I’ve gone on long enough.See y’all later.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello all,It’s been a moment. Well, honestly it’s only been two weeks. But they certainly feel like a long while.This is Scrap Kitchen, the podcast/newsletter where I detail the managing of a farm while planning for next year’s farm (one of our very own).I feel it important to say, because I am not an island and also because interconnectivity keeps us alive, that I am not doing this alone. My beloved and I are working towards both these goals. Towards the growing of food, and managing of a team this year. And towards the creation of our future farm, one in the UK.This was made most apparent to me, this Thursday when I fell ill. I mean like an 18th-century woman on a feinting couch kind of ill. The humors (a sore throat and a headache) took me. My beloved, my partner in all this, went in and planted 8000 strawberries without me. Was I jealous and a little weepy because I wanted to plant strawberries, work the waterwheel planter and also be able to stand? Yes. Was I also immensely grateful that I’m with someone who can do it all without me? Absolutely.My rambling point is that I don’t want to do this alone. I don’t want to put out the idea that I’m doing this alone. Not for one second do I want to pretend that we will be able to start a farm without help and support. This is not an ask for money, more a statement of interconnectedness Let people help you.Let yourself be helped.Easier said than done. But worth it all the same.Current Farm UpdatesOver the past week, we have planted a total of 11,000 strawberries. For those of you listening you can probably hear the exhaustion in my voice. And I was only there for the final 3,000. We have also managed to get all ten beds of tomatoes in the ground. This is roughly 500 plants, but also it’s an absolute faff. Mostly because we don’t have 5’ landscape fabric.Landscape fabric is plastic that you put down to protect against weeds. It is pinned in place with little (rust-covered) metal staples. When it works well it is a joy, preventing us from having to weed our most valuable crops, devoting more time to their care and attention. When it doesn’t work well it is a hassle; it can blow away (and crush plants) if not pinned down correctly, it can leave room for weeds to thrive and outcompete crops if not put on tight enough and somehow, despite measuring, it is never the 100’ length of our beds. Not once, never. Add into that it is plastic, you have to contend with using a petrochemical product of hundreds of person-hours to keep a spot weeded. It’s a calculation every farmer must do. And if you told me what side I would fall on (5 years ago when I was the most militantly zero waste) I would have laughed. But when that fabric works it is a dream! Choir of angels, sunlight from a cloud, glorious. But here’s the kicker, it doesn’t come in 5’ strips. It comes in 4’ and 6’. Our beds are 5’ from centre to centre.This means if we want to cover all the exposed dirt and the paths, to but the fabric as close as possible up against the plants, then we need to get crafty. We alternate our 4’ and our 6’ pieces. It works well, but laying fabric in between plantings is a slow task. None of this is to say that it isn’t worth it. When we told the team we were going to be reducing the exposed soil under the tomato plants they were genuinely relieved. Last year we spent countless hours pulling weeds that threatened to swamp our field tomatoes. It’s very worth it. The problem-solving is fun and all.This is more to point out that we have so many small decisions, so many intricacies while farming that add up to hours of work created or saved. We have so many checks and balances; plastic vs people’s time. And this is just landscape fabric. This is just tomatoes.We haven't even talked about pre-burning holes (and I shant because I can feel people already getting bored with my chat (if I’m wrong and you want more drop a comment)).Farming is decision upon decision. It’s making do. It’s solving problems. And with each moment I love it more.But all this to say we planted tomatoes.This coming week is the big push, crunch time if you will.We have to plant summer squash, tat soi, green onions, aubergine and peppers. This week. Or else. Wish us luck.For those of you asking we are STILL harvesting over 150# of Asparagus every day. Even Mondays and Tuesdays, our “weekends”. It’s looking like it’s slowing down but that wont mean it’s stopping for a good couple weeks. So all we need to do is see it though. To ride out the storm.Thankfully, U-Pick has opened up for Asparagus and people picked over 147# this Saturday alone. That’s 147# we didn’t have to pick ourselves. But more than that it’s the wonderful beginning of people coming to the farm. The general public engaging with the dirt, with the growth, with the source of their food. It’s o great to be a part of. I also managed, just in time, to print several UPick Stamp books (which if you have been listening for a while you may recall me going on about). Children seem really excited to stamp off the vegetables they’ve picked. So it was more than worth the frantic letterpress printing and folding activities. Future Farm UpdatesIn our downtime (which has been two afternoons this week, as we have come in to work on both our days off to pick Asparagus), we have managed to push forward on our business plan. We have started the nitty-gritty of how much of what we will try to sell roughly where and how much we will need to sell to survive. And if this feels slow, it is, I know. But we’re also living it. Our writing time is snatched between exhaustion, everyday farming and the semblance of a social life. We’re getting there.We are also looking into incubator schemes throughout the south of England. One of which is in Devon and we’re aiming to continue conversations with as well as submit a business plan to ASAP. If not there then the land match scheme will be getting a business plan before June. Hopefully. Maybe.The visa application also looms. That and the thousands of plants that need planting this week. No biggie. We’re getting there. Slow and steady.So that’s the update, the plan, the low down.Nothing major.See you next week.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi all,We’re trying something a little different this week. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to tell. But we’re trying it anyways. Instead of me stream of consciousness-ing into a voice note and transcribing, I’m flipping the script. Or more accurately I’m writing one. Whether or not I can read this well is another matter. Yikes.Anyhow, welcome to Scrap Kitchen. The Podcast/Newsletter where I detail the process of managing a farm (with my beloved) while we plan for next year’s farm (in the UK), and how in the hell we go about doing that. If that sounds interesting, fun or like it will be a trainwreck you just can’t look away from, consider subscribing. If it doesn’t, no hard feelings, but maybe read/listen to a little more of this post and then let me have it in the comments section. Or whatever it is kids do these days.Some housekeeping: Scrap Kitchen will now be coming out on Wednesdays. 9 am EST is what I’m aiming for. This change is mostly because my work week has adjusted. We are now working Weds-Sunday so that the farmstand and U-Pick can be open. And thus my writing/reading/speaking must be adjusted too.In personal life updates I have been snatching time between the unending Asparagus harvest and the demands of the season to be a Beta Reader for a friend’s manuscript. Over the winter I wrote about 65k words of a little story and have now sent it off to various people so they can tear it apart (and hopefully make it better). In all honesty, I had quite literally forgotten I had done this. Was too busy with the farm itself and reading someone else manuscript. Which is actually ideal for when the absolutely eviscerated manuscript returns to me. Or at least I hope it will be. All this to say, I’ve been busy (so busy I forgot I wrote something book-length lol).Current Farm UpdatesYou might have heard it in the frantic tone, or the otentios words of last week but Asparagus is here. It’s back, baby. For the next 6 weeks, the farm team and I will be harvesting the 3 acres of Asparagus on the southern side of our cultivation area. If you haven’t harvested asparagus before, the process is pretty simple. Wait until it’s longer than your hand, reach down with said hand, grab the stalk and SNAP. Put the Asparagus into a bucket. Repeat. And yes, it really does grow like its a practical joke. Not only is the Asparagus keeping us busy but so is the opening of the CSA and FArmstand. We now have over 50 people signed up to pick up vegetables every week. These shares have to be harvested, rinsed, bagged, packed and handed out. All while we sell the spare vegetables at the Farmstand. The way the Asparagus has been growing, we have plenty spare. The start of the CSA, which will continue uninterrupted for the next 24 weeks, has got my partner and me thinking about our future farm. About how, where and to whom we wish to sell vegetables. There are so many things to consider; do we do delivery? Do we allow flexibility (where people have a prepaid card and select what veg they want each week)? Do we keep things simple and do the same share for everyone (and thus intimidate people with new vegetables, or worse overload them and eventually waste veg)? Do we collaborate with other farms? Where would people pick up if we don’t deliver (local schools, markets, libraries)? And that’s just one element of the farm.Which then raises the question: Why even do a CSA?At least for that, we have an answer. When someone purchases a CSA share from their local farm they aren’t just buying vegetables. They are investing in the future of the farm. A literal farm share. They are putting their money behind local agriculture, and in return, they get future vegetables. How very stock market. But they aren’t just getting vegetables or the promise of them, they are staking a claim in the farm and its produce. I care enough about this farm to commit to them for a season. This sense of connection, fostered over time lets people get to know that farm, their local region and what is seasonally available.In return, the farmer gets a sense of security that is sorely lacking in most agricultural interactions. The farmer knows that people who have paid ahead will eat what is produced. This can be planned for. Guaranteed 50 lettuce heads a week already sold is a weight off any farmer’s shoulders. Not only that but purchasing a CSA share in the early season allows farmers to work without ‘earning’ to begin with.The spring is a time when you are planting, prepping and generally getting the plants/farm ready to grow. It’s not a bountiful time of harvest, not usually. So how does a farmer pay their workers? How do they pay themselves? More often than not, they get into debt. The average farm in America is $1.3m in debt. Let the enormity of that number settle into your bones.Of course, I have some caveats. This is industrial, conventional, chemical agriculture. They already exploit their workers, they already make measly margins. But if this is what it’s like for state-sanctioned farms, those supported by grain subsidies and expensive chemical intervention, imagine how rough it is for less conventional farmers. This is not the kind of farm we want to run. Not by a long shot.To avoid crushing debt, to grow for people, not feedlots, you need have a little community buy-in. And startup capital (there go our savings). CSA’s help with this. A tricky time for small farmers when they struggle to have the capital for the new season. Along with assured customers at the other end. On the customer’s side, CSA’s work out cheaper in the long run. The contents are often worth much more than the share itself (not just because the farmer is grateful for the initial support), since CSA’s allow farmers to distribute abundance, to give back when they have more.All this to say, look for a local CSA. Via Community Supported Agriculture in the UK and Local Harvest in the US. Sign up today.In other farm news, we have one more team member starting soon. We’ve also planted all our Brassicas, thanks to a local Girl Scout troop. Our tomatoes are planted in the tunnels and are ticketing to outgrow their pots and be planted in the great outdoors. We’re waiting on some cold nights to pass but then those babies are going in the ground.We also have our ARCHES UP. That was me shouting. Joy. Excitement. Fear that my butterfly blue peas are not germinating well at all. But no matter. The Arches are up, ready to be stocked with funky cucumbers (Salt and Pepper, Bothbys Blonde, Lemon and Cucuamelons) and stunning runner beans. The farm is really shaping up. Each block is uncovered from its winter occultation to be planted full the moment it sees the sun. But on the horizon, this week, in fact, we will be getting a delivery of 11,000 frozen strawberry plants. All they need is thawing, then planting. Easy. May is a big month. Just like with the squash bugs, it’s crush or be crushed. Future Farm UpdateThis is it, I’m saying it. We will have a business plan in to the Landmatch Scheme by the end of the month so-help-me-god. Is this the crunch time of the year? Yes. Is this when we also need to start getting a Visa? Yes. Is it a lot? Also Yes. But we can also do it. So that’s fine.Mostly we’re chugging through the financials at the moment, in the snatched hours between farming and having a life. And we shall keep on trucking until the deed is done.So that’s it, that’s all.I’ll see you all on the flipside (next Wednesday).MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi Everyone.Welcome to Scrap Kitchen, the podcast/newsletter where I start a farm while managing a farm (while thinking about farms all the time). And then I tell you about it.I'm not doing this alone, I'm doing this with my partner. With a farm team and supportive family and friends and boss/mentor. It's not just me. I needed to state that straight up.This episode is the 10th, I wanted to call it April Rains. For the people listening, I hope that you can hear the bird song out my window. Weather-wise it's actually super muggy, not refreshing and rainy. It got to like 28°C over the past day or so, yet it's like overcast and somewhat sticky. These kinds of conditions make me think about a book that I read once called Friend of the Earth. Basically, a man keeping a millionaire’s menagerie of animals alive during like the climate apocalypse. Honestly, wasn't the best book but T. C. Boyle’s descriptions of wet, damp, yellow/grey/brown weather feel spot on. Sometimes when the weather feels like this I get all tangled in what’s to come. Ok, actually looking down, I’m currently wearing brown trousers and a yellow top so that completely isn't helping Weather chat aside (but I am a farmer so what did you expect), it’s generally quite nice out. Spring has properly sprung here in Michigan. There are lilacs just about to pop on the trees. The magnolias are finishing up flowering. Redbud trees are budding everywhere (how very apt, but not very red).On the farm, a lot of brush was cleared and a little patch of garlic mustard was kindly left behind. This is with the intention of doing a weed walk next week; to show anyone who visits the farm what weeds they can eat (Dandelion, Stinging Nettles, Garlic Mustard, Mullein, Dead Nettles, Chickweed, Burdock and more).So I'm very excited about that.In other news, I'm getting a couple of poems published, or they have already been published, in Moonday Mag and the Queer Trans Magic Zine.That's it on personal news.I didn't do one of these Scrap Kitchens last week because we worked all day last Sunday at a Farm and Garden event the library put on (in honour of Earth Day). My beloved and I set up a little stand, promoted the farm’s CSA program and proffered Turnip slices to willing attendees. Because of this we got to witness several people try turnips for the first time and several people changed their minds about turnips before our very eyes. Whether or not they were faking it, who knows. But Hakurei Turnips are amazing. Known for altering opinions. The event got me thinking about why we do this. Why do we brave weird weather? Why we keep lifting, carrying, bending, building?Sure, some of it is watching people try a vegetable for the first time. But another big part is hearing a story or a recipe, a yarn about how someone’s family cooked vegetables. The new dawn of recognition as they spot a long-forgotten ingredient at the farmstand. Something entangled in their childhood. So then they tell you just how their mother made it. That’s a pretty good reason to me.Another great one is seeing the transformation, especially in the farm team. In the team members who have returned this year, how much more confident they are, how much more questioning, how much faster at planting lettuce. It’s amazing to get to witness. They end up asking, why do we do it this way? I've been reading this book. Why do we do this? Why does this person do that? I truly appreciate how much effort they're putting into learning.The main reason why we do, why we want to do this, is to feed people. Properly.Our food system is pretty broken. If you're not part of the solution then you're part of the problem. In a less guilt-riddled sense, the work is wildly rewarding. To change a piece of land. To provide for the community you are within. To tie yourself to it in a tangible way (quite literally feeding people). That is rewarding in and of itself.Not only that but localising yourself, opens you up to really learn an area. When you see the food that it grows every day, the work that’s gone in.Yeah, just a lot of gratitudes innit.Current Farm UpdateOn Friday, we planted over 1.5k plants. Mostly Kale, Chard, Collards and Cabbages.We had to wait until Friday to plant because there was a big harsh frost on Wednesday night and then a baby frost (it only just got below 0°C) on Thursday evening. Yet now, it’s 10°C at night. Climate Change! Ok, I promise, no more weather.Not only did we plant all our full-season Brassicas on Friday we also potted up (transplanted little seedlings into bigger pots) 400 plants! Every stage of plants got shunted along to the next stage. Small ones into bigger pots, bigger ones into the great outdoors. Now all our Peppers, Aubergines and Tomatoes have enough soil to last until they are planted for good. They already look greener for it. In less than one week our CSA begins. In just five short days, customers will descend on the farm for their first pickup of the season’s vegetables. Whether we are ready, or not.Truthfully I think we're pretty set for having enough vegetables and enough variety. But still, the radishes are not doing well...We were hoping to include some in our first share. These are the problems one faces with farming.My radishes are doing s**t. The climate's losing its mind. The usual.In terms of the future farm, there's not much to report. It has been a pretty hectic couple of weeks. We technically had one day off in that time. So rest is the number one order of business.But my partner and I have found out about $5 Mimosas at a local bakery and have made a plan for tomorrow. Our schedule has now switched to Wednesday to Sunday (to allow us to have the farmstand open all weekend). Which means a lot more time for weekday Mimosas. But also it should give us time to work a bit more on our plan. Especially this week when we have a long weekend now which is wonderful and necessary.Oh, how could I forget? The asparagus is popping!For anyone who hasn't seen how asparagus grows, it looks fake but it is not only delicious but real. Once it comes in (grow up, technically), we will be picking asparagus for two hours every morning for the next month or so. Personally, I am very excited for it to be popping up and yet it also feels like gearing up for a marathon. The season is really underway. Rest while you can, and all that.Alright, that's pretty much it.I hope y’all have a wonderful week See you on the flip side.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello and welcome back to another episode of Scrap Kitchen.This is the podcast/newsletter where I talk about running a farm while starting one, while navigating climate chaos. It's pretty fun if you're interested in any of those things and if you're not, it's probably quite boring.This episode is the ninth so far and I'm going to be calling it Solarpunk.The reason I didn't record an episode last week was that my partner and I (along with some colleagues) went south to Ohio to see the solar eclipse. That took a large chunk of last weekend’s time. And boy, was it wonderful. 100% worth it!In the midst of the eclipse, I saw the corona and had a big moment where I wondered what will I be doing in 22 years for the next one (or 20 years, or whenever it is). Anyway, that took priority over my time last recording time. No ragrets.So since then, I have been doing several little Solarpunk-y things.For those of you unfamiliar with the idea of Solarpunk, it's a play on the idea of steampunk or cyberpunk.Steampunk is like Edwardian-esque technology, but everything has steam. Think Treasure Planet, the movie (which was a viiiibe). There's a great book that's like Egyptian Steampunk with Magic called Dead Djinn in Cairo, which I would highly recommend. But all other steampunk I find kind of...Mid. Edwardian values and gloomy outlooks abound.Then there’s cyberpunk. Think dark alleyways, bright neon lights and, you know, a future where corporations know everything and it's always raining. Blade Runner/ Do Androids Dream is the perfect example of this.Then comes the hope. Something that I'm forcing myself to read more of, trying to give myself better futures to imagine. To envision pathways to them. Solarpunk futures.These encompass the idea of solar-powered/renewable technology combined with nature-forward thinking. Personally agree with all of the ideas of Solarpunk, we don’t need to replace farmers with robots (we just need to pay workers better to do “low-skill” jobs). Not only that but ‘toil’ and hard work are something that a lot of people seek. They want their efforts to go into something tangible. I digress, it's basically using existing technology combined with ancient/Indigenous knowledge and respect for the planet to stop all from dying in climate catastrophe. Pretty fun stuff.To help myself imagine these futures I have been reading a lot of Solarpunk books recently, A Half-built Garden, the Monk and Robot series, I could go on. I’ve also been reading Chris Newman’s new book about first-generation farming and the importance of working within a collective to meet the needs of your local community. He dives into the creation and maintenance of sovereign food systems, how to factor in economise of scale and create lasting change. This book is on pre-release for his patreons but when it comes out proper, believe me, I will be shouting about it.When not reading I’ve been processing a lot of dandelions from the farm. We had a very long day last Wednesday, with the final task of the day being weeding. Without even having to ask, the team saved dandelions. Ah, the joy of being known for your love of edible weeds. That evening I came home and processed lots of dandelions in my garden. The unopened flowers were used to make capers, the leaves to dry out (to make into a nutrient-rich powder for smoothies/soups/baking) and the roots were also dried ready for roasting (into caffeine-free coffee alternative). Right now they are all drying on a mesh dehydrator in the hallway. As I write this I’m drying Dandelion flowers for the first stage in making jam. They get boiled with lemon and orange, I let them steep for a few hours, and then the sifted liquid is boiled down with sugar and cardamom. To me, making this jam feels like the first fresh breath of spring. To be in touch with nature, capturing its bright yellow essence, deliciously holding it on your tongue. Speaking of Solarpunk, the Land Workers Alliance, a union of farmers, is calling for a doubling of the agricultural budget to help with a transition to more sustainable and just land practices.Their campaign for a new deal for horticulture across the UK, along with the manifesto laid bout by the Nature-Friendly Farming Network outline frameworks to support a transition to a more resilient and fair agricultural future. At this time, in an election year, when belief in politicians is so low, it is more important than ever to connect with your local MP and share with them your concerns for our future. For a fairer and more sustainable future. It could be as simple as finding your MP, and sharing your concerns with them in an email or meeting. I can’t wait until we have the chance to invite MPs out to the farm we build to show them the importance of local, climate-forward agricultural alternatives. Until then I’ll berate them via email. Do I think the Labour Party could and should be doing better, more, anything? F**k yes, I do. But does that mean I’m going to disengage, absolutely not. Current farm updatesThe farm we currently manage, just outside Ann Arbor, Michigan, is in full swing. Right now we are seeding radishes everywhere. The kale and chard that overwintered (were planted in November and lived in our greenhouse until now), are starting to bolt. This means they're going to flower, along with being bitter and disgusting and not great. For their crimes, they shall be pulled out and in their place, radishes will be seeded.We are at the stage of potting up tomatoes; which means taking them from tiny little plug trays into bigger pots. Allowing them to grow big enough that by the time we plant them out (in about a month) in mid-May they will have strong root systems and be sturdy enough to survive.We are dabbling in chaos planting herbs at the moment, which is heavy direct seeding, sprinkling herbs in the ground in certain beds. They don't seem to do that well transplanted at the moment, or they don't germinate as expected so we’re being a bit more liberal. Improving on a practice we used last year.Right now we are having a Vole Apocalypse! On top of the kale and chard bolting and trying to go to seed they're also being undermined (quite literally, their roots are being eaten through) by voles. Our mousetraps have been very effective this year and completely ineffective vole-wise. Apparently, because mice will climb up things for peanut butter and voles don't like beef jerky as much as the internet thinks they do. At this rate, we’re losing like a kale plant every couple of days to just vole activity. In the greenhouse in the mornings, you can see them skittering around, flagrantly rubbing it in our faces. So that's certainly something we're working on. Because of torrential rain, we took the opportunity to take the day off work on Friday. Not only had we run out of inside tasks but most of the outside tasks are awful to perform in wet soil and can even increase compaction if you do them wrong.It was wonderful to have a little more time to do things, which brings me on to…Future farm updates We, my partner and I, spent yesterday working more on our business plan. We've come up with a pretty good tool for calculating the Cost to Produce for various vegetables we intend to grow. This includes the hours it takes to seed, to water, to plant, to prep beds, to harvest, to wash. Added into that the price of seeds, potting mix and crop-specific equipment. We decided not to include the price of trays or compost because we're going to have to buy those straight up at the start of every year (a sunk cost, if you will). From that, we calculate roughly a 30% loss (at least) to figure out how many bunches we could produce of kale (or whatever else). From there, the predicted profit per bunch can be calculated. It’s definitely interesting to look at, and consider what you want to factor in. Do I include the cost of going to market in the per-bunch pricing? Or is it also a sunk cost for the eight hours spent (prepping for, travelling to and working at the farmers market).All sorts of other costs come up. Naturally, we've been having debates around that.Which have read to clear decisions, such as the starting size we want to grow on, roughly four blocks of ten 50’(15m). Plus a High tunnel (eight 15m beds) for our Solinacea. We're trying to figure out how best to contact local businesses, such as value-added producers (jams, ferments etc.). Until we know where we're going to be next year, this is not the easiest task. But we still have an outline, informed by Chris Newman’s suggestion to do a community food assessment before getting into business, of how plan to do so.Quite a bit of work yesterday.We were also sent a beautiful link for some land from my mother. We won't be buying that land sight unseen, but if anyone is interested it’s on auction in May. It's pretty cool to see that there are plots of land out there for when we might actually get the chance to buy some. How very hope-making.For now, I think we've settled on leasing land for two to three years. First to get our foot in the door in the UK market, and also to not financially over-commit. Once there, we’ll make more informed decisions down the line.So thats it, lots of planning, lots of prepping on our current farm and for our future farm.But through it all, pretty good.Pretty Solarpunk to imagine how we integrate ourselves into a food system, to make it fairer, more sustainable, more sovereign. It’s a pleasure and privilege to be able to think about this.See you next week,Ok, Bye.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Dear b*****s, hello all, I'm back.This is Scrap Kitchen.I was off last week. Not really on purpose, but because I was doing a lot of things last Sunday (which is when I record these) and I just couldn't get around to it.This week I am getting around to it! Thank goodness. I'm gonna do a bumper update since it's been a while.This is Episode 8, I think I'm calling it Ostara, which is pagan-ish Easter. To an extent, there are no written records of traditional British celebrations.And honestly, it was somewhat re-invented in the ‘60s by some random folks who were just trying to string stuff together to kind of recreate a nationalist British Identity. But also to weave back in nature reverence. Because of this, I have complex feelings around it, it's a tangle to unpick.Who knows? Who knows?However, you know, when thinking about the seasons and celebrating them, it's a fine framework.Anyways we celebrated Ostara a couple of weeks ago, which was on the solstice. In all truth, it was a couple of days after the solstice because I didn't have the official date and I was just going off my diary (which was wrong). Trust no one am I right (certainly not myself for getting dates correct).Moving swiftly on.My partner and I invited people over to the house. We made a rabbit local rabbit, lots of vegetables and hot ‘cross’ buns (but with a wheel of the year on them instead of a cross). Guests brought all sorts of stuff including something called Cherry Bounce which is an absolutely lethal combination of Grain Alcohol, Sour Terries and Sugar. Delicious but lethal.Also, someone brought their bassoon and played it to us in the back garden. We had a fire, people danced, we got to teach a card game and it was just truly lovely. It was a great group. In the past, I've always kept my pagan-ish celebration pretty low-key or personal (mostly solo honestly). Now I’ve got a chance to share and celebrate with others, I'm really grateful that my beloved is so excited to join in. Events and celebrations are so much better with other people. Most things are better with other people!So yeah that's what we've been up to.Another life update is we're moving to a new room (you might be able to hear the echo of an empty room on the audio version). We just moved everything in. Now we need to settle. Let the silt settle before we put art up on the walls. I always find it helpful to know where the sunlight comes in, how it hits, and what you want to see most often. All important to know before you put up pictures of my family and friends. To make space for them. To make sure I get the maximum view of their faces each day. For this to be possible the jitters of moving must settle and the sun must return from the overcast sky.Farm UpdatesWe’re almost full-time now! I mean, my partner and I are going in most days, but the ‘staff’, the farm team are coming in for four days a week for the next couple of weeks.Already its been a lot of work. We've started all of our big like Solanaceae; tomatoes, aubergine, peppers. We've started a lot of crops (radishes, turnips, green onions, carrots) that are going to go into our CSA box in May, which is somewhat exciting, but only a month away. Which is so soon, that's actually terrifying. And exciting.It's a bit of both.I fluctuate wildly.The day after we celebrated Ostara, it snowed about a foot, or I think it's a foot, I don't know the measurements over here. It snowed a lot. It was quite a bit, like at least several centimetres.The snow delayed us a little on planting and prepping beds outside. But thankfully we’ve now been able to work outside. This entails preparing beds, laying down wood chips, and seeding mustard (to try and get rid of a root nematode that has been detected, yikes). Just lots of little things to get the farm started strong.One of the amazing things this year is that a lot of people who worked last year have returned, meaning there's a lot less training to be done. We’re still around to answer questions for them, but people don't need to be taught how to plant things to the same extent. Work moves a lot quicker. Not only that but everyone's come in with a lot of spring energy and that's just really exciting to be around.Future Farm UpdatesIn terms of our future farm, we're currently working on the business plan. It's been two weeks since my last update. In that time my partner and I have been talking through various legalities and all the things we need to get sorted for the farm business. This includes what type of farm ‘entity’ we would be setting up (most likely a Limited Liability Company) and what type of land lease we would be seeking (realistically a Farm Business Tenancy). We’re about to tackle the finance section. Which sounds daunting but (since he's a Virgo and I'm a Virgo Moon/Mercury) is very exciting. We get to dive into Excel spreadsheets. Our love language. This year’s farm was planned out in minute detail on Excel, meaning we have a lot to go on for our future farm. The spreadsheets we are currently using come from my guy Dan Brisebois and his chef’s kiss Excellent course/book on Farmer Spreadsheets. His seed saving podcast is also not to be sniffed at. Thats all folks, not many other updates. The current farm has been taking priority as it would in early March, late March.That's my quick and simple update.Have a good week.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi all, Welcome back to Scrap Kitchen where I, Magda, take you through the process of my partner and I managing a farm while also trying to get a future farm sorted out. I’ll take you through the farming season; what we're getting up to and thinking about.This episode is the seventh (I'm pretty sure) and I'm calling it Little Shoots (because I am soppy and it's spring).I thought I'd start this episode with a bit of gratitude. One of my friends and I send a lot of voice notes backwards and forwards of things we're grateful for. Personally, I think it's a really great way to think about all that we have and not focus on what we don't have. It's a good way of identifying all the good s**t, even within all the bad.Here’s some of the stuff that I'm grateful for:* Andyof The Poor Prole's Almanac, which is a really great podcast.* ismatu gwendolyn is doing an amazing podcast as well (also her newsletter's bangin’).* When I talked to my Partner’s Friend’s Girlfriend yesterday she told me about the nurses where she's working who are trying to unionize. She saw some real b******t union-busting propaganda and thought of me. I love that I’m strongly associated with being pro-union. But more importantly, their whole hospital consortium is trying to Unionise, that's pretty amazing.* The Book recommendations I got from hanging out with people this week.* Mostly I'm grateful for the farm team, most of whom came back this year. This particularly feels amazing. To be working with the same people for a second year in a row.* Also for moving my body more than before.We're really starting to kick off the farming season and it's great to feel my way back into all the stretching and moving and carrying that we have to do.Current Farm UpdatesThe update for this year's farm is that people arrived!We had the staff turn up on Thursday; talked them through the plan for the year. We also went over something called the Wheel of the Year which I'll probably talk about some other time. The whole team then took a tour around the farm and my partner and I showed them all the systems that we've been improving over the winter. All the signs we've been putting up and laminating!Got a couple rounds of applause, yeah, no big deal. Were they sarcastic? Maybe. But also, you know you have a great team when they seem genuinely excited by a laminated sheet of harvest bin weights and a 5-S-ed tool tent.This week we did lot of seeding a lot, a lot, of seeding. Within the last week we started Tomatoes, Aubergine and Peppers, which are kind of finicky. As seedlings go they're somewhat difficult. Something we're keeping a very close eye on them; their temperature, light and water. Mostly we don't want them to get ‘Leggy’.Getting ‘Leggy’ is where a plant grows too tall too fast because it doesn't have enough sunlight. It’s reaching towards light and overextends itself. In turn, this stunts its growth for the rest of its life (so that's pretty bad).Next week, the farm team will be in for three days but my partner and I are in for the whole week. We're going to be doing more seeding, lots of flowers need to be started. Just like Solanaceae (tomatoes, aubergine etc), flowers are quite intricate in how they need to be seeded. But in new and interesting ways. Just another layer of complexity for the diversified vegetable farm. Some of them need to be stratified which is to be left in moist soil, in the cold for up to 6 weeks. Some need direct sunlight (so not to be buried at all). Some need very specific temperatures. All very intricate.But also amazing, to see all these trays of plants growing already. Ones that we're going to put in the ground and eventually feed to people (in like six to eight weeks). It also feels like we're finally back doing what we love doing. Yay spring!The plan for next week is also to be doing a lot of bed prep. This is where we prepare our no-till blocks for planting. Our blocks are 100 feet by 100 feet. This is divided into 20 beds each 30 inches wide and 100 feet long. The beds are separated by a 30-inch pathway which is covered in wood chips. On the beds themselves we put compost (when necessary) and other fertility down (e.g. certain rocks (Basalt) or Alfalfa Pellets). To prep a bed we take out any weeds that are growing and we churn up the top inch (maximum!) of soil. Sometimes we need to aerate the beds which means we use a Broadfork, imagine a normal fork but massive. It has lots of tines, which when you stand on it are pushed into the earth, this brings air into the lower soil and helps with soil health. We also need to lay down lots of new wood chips and make sure all of our beds are mostly straight. Eugh obsession with straightness. But also it helps when you're running a farm (quite hard work) if plants are in straight lines especially when you're weeding. If you can just walk in a straight line down the row and pull a weeding tool (scuffle/stirrup hoe etc.) behind you it's a lot easier than wiggling in and out of plants. The only time I will be like, ‘woo, straightness’.We’ve got a lot of that coming up.And it's really exciting.It's really, really good.We will also be seeding things directly into the ground next week. So that's some carrots and some turnips and radishes. It truly spring once you're seeding stuff outside.Future Farm UpdatesMy partner and I have been working on the business plan. We've got some of it done, some of our history and some of our vision. This week we'll be working on more of it.The process is bringing up a lot of interesting questions about what our ultimate aims are with the farm. Why do we want to do stuff. Or even what we want to do. It’s pretty vital to talk over.So that's all we're really doing at the moment.Heavy hectic week. I mean it's heavy time in general but there are good small bits of light in between it all.I hope you all have a great week. I hope all of this makes sense and if it doesn't shout at me in the comments. Okay, bye,See you next week.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello and welcome back to Scrap Kitchen.This is episode 6 and I think I'm gonna call it Snow Fall. Or maybe Slow Fall.For those of you in the United Kingdom, a Happy Mother's Day (especially mine)! I'm about to go on a call with my mother so I have half an hour to type this s**t out and get it ready.So I'm gonna do a short one this week mainly because it is our final week before the staff start a farm. This means we've been rushing around a lot, today and yesterday were our first two days of not doing farm tasks (apart from looking after seedlings) in weeks. So this is like the Final Rest™ we get before the season starts. Hence why I thought I'd make a quick update today. The Week in 5 PhotosHere are five pictures that I wanted to talk a little bit about not too much hopefully but things from the last week or soThe first is beautiful, I think it's a print, I'm not exactly sure, it says ‘Community is the most effective form of rebellion’ and it's by Eileen Jimenes. They're on Instagram and I just took a screenshot of it because clearly, I needed a reminder.The next is some kale. No! It's not. It's some chard! It's some chard that we picked today. This very morning. The chard has been growing all through the winter (in our high tunnel) and it got absolutely battered by frost. Freezing and thawing, freezing and thawing. This meant that the skin on the outside, like the flesh of the leaf, the bit that holds the leaf together, was peeling away. Underneath it was mealy and cottony. The chard picked today and it's finally not disgusting (or mealy/cottony and getting eaten by woodlice) so that's a big win. We can start selling it again.The next picture is some Tatsoi that bolted.Tatsoi is an Asian green, a brassica. You can tell it's a brassica because the flowers (before they turn a classic bright yellow) look like baby broccoli heads. Which, I think, is kind of cool.Brassicas; broccoli, cabbage, kale, brussels sprouts, kohlrabi, are all the same species. Different elements of them were bred out. For example the leaves for kale, the flowers for broccoli and cauliflower etc. It was interesting to see.The water broke several weeks ago (it works now thankfully) but in that time it was very very hot. It was very hot in February which is wonderful and not terrifying at all lol. Lack of water, combined with heat signals to the plant that it's time to seed and so they bolted. Bolting is when a plant gets very bitter and puts its energy into making flowers (and eventually seeds). The next picture is of a lino cut that I made with some of the people who work on the farm. I am about to get Obsessive about linocut. I'm very very excited about it.My partner and I are planning on making some stamps with vegetables on them. So that children can make little booklets and then when they pick a vegetable (at the U-Pick) they can stamp the pepper to say they picked a pepper. Similar to passport stamps.Is this gamifying vegetables? Possibly. But its also fun and we get to do art.The final picture is a picture of this little (I don't know what I think it was like a juice shot something?) bottle. A little plastic square milk bottle but tiny!And filled with rose petals that I got from a bulk food shop down the road for a dollar! I love bulk food shops. I love reusing little packages that look super cute. I love the cardamom and rose syrup I made with them to put in my coffee. It’s all making me very excited for sunshine (it's not sunny anymore but it's gonna come back). So that's where we're at right now.In terms of longer-term goals, we are focusing on the present farm right now. Once we get a little bit more settled into the rhythm I think we're gonna have like a day a week to focus on the future farm. No big updates. Just little updates and pictures. I hope you're all doing well.See you next week.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello, and welcome back to Scrap Kitchen.This is episode five, I'm calling it Needful.Right now I'm recording/writing this in the sunny back garden of the house that I'm house-sitting. So if you hear some wind or some rustling leaves that's because they're are.Recently I've been thinking about the poem A Small Needful Fact by Ross Gay which talks about the murder of Eric Garner at the hands of the police. It came up, just popped into my psyche, before I remembered that I'd actually seen Ross Gay recently at the University in Ann Arbor.He was doing a speech. A talk. I don't know. What people do at universities with this kind of stuff. A poem thing. He read from his latest book and it made me really want to get back into writing. When this poem popped back up for me, I was like, oh damn I've seen this guy he's great. The poem itself is very mournful quite hesitant but also with a hint of hopefulness and that is the feeling that I'm feeling at the moment. Some of this has to do with Palestine, the Congo, honestly all of the places in the world where colonialism is ongoing. A Small Needful FactRoss GayIs that Eric Garner workedfor some time for the Parks and Rec.Horticultural Department, which means,perhaps, that with his very large hands,perhaps, in all likelihood,he put gently into the earthsome plants which, most likely,some of them, in all likelihood,continue to grow, continueto do what such plants do, like houseand feed small and necessary creatures,like being pleasant to touch and smell,like converting sunlightinto food, like making it easierfor us to breathe.Of course, there are things that we can do we do to combat (maybe not combat, this isn't a war), like boycotts, sanctions, divestments while we still can, protests, and chaining yourselves to arms dealers.There's a lot of stuff that can be done. But also at times, it feels like there's nothing that can be done. That's not true.In all of this like mourning and sadness and righteous anger action there also has to be noticing of the inequality where we live. In our very hyper-local spaces. We need to be thinking about the people who face injustice in our daily lives and by freeing them we can also free Palestine, free ourselves.But we also should chain ourselves to arms dealers.I just thinking about this, since this morning I was at a bike co-op where volunteers fix each other's bikes for the local neighbourhood. There were all sorts of people there; businessmen, unhoused people, hipsters. Getting their bikes fixed for free. Add into this the community gardens near me (or maybe they are allotments) have wheelchair-accessible raised beds. This is something I always dreamed of for the farm that we eventually are going to have. Getting to see it in action (before I even got to dream it up or have to figure it out) is really wonderful. To see something that you had thought about, people are doing this already and I don't have to wait until I have my own land for this to exist. I still want it to make wheelchair-accessible raised beds exist, but blueprints help dream a new way forward. To me, this is a small needful fact that even within this morning there are people doing things and people striving to make their communities a fairer and more equal place. Working on things that will outlast them.So yeah, on that fun and cheery start.Honestly, it feels weird to be making anything that is overly fun and cheery at this time. It feels disingenuous. But here we are, I said I was gonna do this every week, so I'm gonna do this every week.Current Farm Updates For the current farm that we're working on, the potting soil finally arrived.That was a sharp pivot, wasn't it?So we have done a lot of seeds. Seeds on seeds.We've been seeding all our alliums, so a lot of onions, some leeks, and then lettuce, Asian greens, so bok choy and ming choy, and I think that's it. It feels like we're really starting to grow stuff. All these little seedlings peeking out the dirt.We've been direct seeding a lot as well. The water's working again (it got fixed by Glen, kind soul). Now we can actually water all the stuff that we've put in the ground. Which is pretty nice.In other news, I dropped a tray of leeks. But in the grand scheme of things that really doesn't matter. We’re also getting ready the the staff to come back to work (I think we're hiring one more person). Everyone's starting on the 14th of March. So there's a sort of gearing up. A ramping up towards mid-March. We're gonna be printing out special things (processes, instructions, Most Wanted Bug LIsts etc) and laminating them and I don't know whatever else people do to make their Standard Operating Procedures very clear. It’s a lot of organising stuff and cleaning out the fridge. Lots of washing, lots of bleaching.Future Farm UpdatesOn the current farm and for our future farm, things have been pretty much on pause this week. My partner just finished his other job a Monday back so I think a break was needed. We weren't going to push so hard on our future farming plans for a little rest week.But now we're going to get back into it. Hopefully working a bit more on the business plan.We also got an offer for a first right to refusal from my mother's friend for when they buy land, possibly. No pressure.For anyone who doesn't know a first right to refusal is something that we were introduced to by our bosses in Virginia. They have in their will. This means that for their farm, should something happen to them (hopefully not, touch wood) the people that they list as their first right to refusal have the first chance to buy the farm. That means they have the first right to say no to buying the farm and then after that, it goes to everyone else (the open market).So to be offered the first right to refusal is to be offered the chance to say no first.Kind of what it says on the tin. In our case, it wouldn’t be to buy the farm but to work the land. It’s a really wonderful thing to be offered, so thank you.We're still going to be applying for the land match scheme. It’s a far-away land offer, time-wise, so we will still be working on securing short-term land. It’s great to have the option for the future. For now, what we're going to be working on is a business plan. And eventually the visa. With the visa we’re going to wait a little bit, I think, we're going to get a little further ahead on the business plan. Send that out, then send out the visa, and get back some land offers (so simple lol). I mean obviously, that's not necessarily what's going to happen but that's the dream so that's the plan of action right nowOk wrapping up. It feels like it's been quite a long week but not a bad one. But in some ways a bad one. I hope there is sunshine wherever you are that is listening to this.See you next week.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi, all. It's me. I'm back. I just came back from the farm, and since it's Sunday, I'm going to be recording one of these little voice notes for you. This one I'm calling Coopetition, named after the concept that was introduced to me by our mentors/bosses on Broadfork Farm, Janet and Dan. The idea of Coopetition is that it includes both cooperation and competition. It's an interesting way of thinking about farming, feeding people, and just in general. It will come up later when I give you a little update on my life. Farm UpdatesThis week on the farm we seeded some radishes and turnips. I then spent this morning trying to get the overhead water sprinklers to stop being full of copper. I got soaking wet. I got a little grumpy, and then I just turned on the drip. Well, I had to fix it a little and move stuff around. It wasn't as easy as just ‘turning on’. I had to drive out for a part. It was a lot, but, there was a way around it. And now our seedlings are slowly getting watered!We are hoping to get some potting soil pretty soon, but that is taking its sweet f*****g time to show up on the farm. And that's okay. We will seed things immediately when we get the soil. Things take a while to get places.Sometimes in farming, I get a little bit anxious, a little on edge. I get itchy to start stuff, and then it just absolutely Will. Not. Start. Like now, where there's potting soil that hasn't been delivered by truck (something I have no control over). It’s both a humbling and frustrating experience. But mostly, I'm trying to take it as a sign. You can't do it yet. There's almost nothing you can do yet. In terms of seeding. Of course, there are other things I can do. So that's what we've been up to. The new seeding table is completed. It's stunning. I'm itching to use it (clearly), and that's about it. Just a lot of tidying and getting stuff ready for when people come back to work. Longer Term UpdatesIn terms of updates, not for the farm that we're currently managing, but for the farm that my partner and I hope to run one day, there as been some movement. This time last week (so Monday) I found that the Southwest Landmatch, which is through Land Workers Alliance, had put up several listings for land, which is amazing. That's super cool. If you don't know what a landlink (or a land match in the UK) is, it's where established/older farmers either with some spare land (or actively trying to get someone to replace them on the land), are put in touch with people who want to farm the land. E.g. people like me and my partner. The Land Workers Alliance, which is a union of farmers, is doing one for the southwest of England. They have up a lot of 1 Ha listings, roughly 2.5 acres, which is a great size for starting a little farm. To get one of those plots, some of which have running water, electricity, and road access (these are fancy, fancy plots), you have to send the farmer, an email with your CV, a cover letter, and a business plan. That means the next step for my partner and I is to work on a business plan. Hopefully, we'll be getting that done before the farming season kicks into a very high gear. Can't promise that, but I am hopeful. That's what we're working towards. I've also had some lovely emails back from other people who I've been put in touch with (through my aunt's friend's daughter or whoever else). It's been really nice to just hear people wanting to help. Even if they're not sure exactly how to get someone onto land. Some offer funding advice or all this other stuff. It's been really useful.CoopetitionSo let’s bring it back around to the title; the Coopetition. When I discovered (whoa, Christopher Columbus it was there all along), when I found the website for myself, even though it already existed, the Southwest Landmatch website, I had this little hoarding moment. A little one. It wasn't the best reflection of who I am/trying to be as a person. I was all I shouldn't tell anyone about this. I should keep this to myself. And then about 10 minutes later, I had a moment where I was like, why the s**t would I do that? We can't farm five different parcels of land all the way across the southeast of England. Why the hell would I not tell everyone about this? This is literally why I started a podcast. This is quite literally what I want, the information I want to share with other people who are in similar situations to myself. If they don't already know about it. That's why I did this. So even within trying to be very open and not gatekeeping information, I still have moments where I'm like, oh, keep it for yourself, but I refuse to do that. I'm going to tell you all about it. It is the Land Workers Alliance Southwest Land Match.Everyone should know about it. Who wants to get on land? There's more than enough land for us to farm. There are more than enough people for us to feed. In healthier ways for both the planet and people than we are currently doing. To not try to encourage people or share that information is just silly. It's not really acting from abundance is it?So that's what we're up to at the moment. Another update is that my corn has sprouted. I had four of the Glass Gem not sprout, and none of the Dakota Black. This means that I have 96% germination on the Glass Gem and 100% germination on the Dakota Black. I was pretty sceptical if I'm being honest. I did not think they were going to sprout, but they swelled with water, and now they're an absolute rooty sprouty mess. I wish we had chickens to feed them to.Seeds coming back to life. And that feels very spring-like. Here we are those are the updates. The only other update is that I'm knitting again, and that is taking a lot of my time. I'm enjoying it. I'm enraptured, and I'm knitting a sock. So it's pretty exciting stuff over here. I hope you all have a good week, and if any of you are looking for land, I hope the Southwest Landmatch is helpful to you and that you carry the spirit of coopetition into your daily life. All right. Okay, bye.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hi, welcome back to Scrap Kitchen. This is my third episode so far. I think I'm going to call this one Commons and the myth of burnout.Previously I have had some things to say about burnout. I have previously written about avoiding it, but I had an interesting reframing recently. Please note I don’t want to be all click-bait-y but more share what was presented to me. Im going to hopefully rationalize it. Housekeeping: my interview with Iona from the cherry log is now out!So I just came back from a conference; OEFFA, the Ohio Ecological Food and Farm Association conference. I'm currently in Michigan, but they're very kind and they let people from different states come. The whole conference was really interesting. It reinvigorated the already-building excitement in me to start farming this season. And I got to see a lot of really fascinating people talk, especially about things that are very close to home. I love going to these kinds of conferences and making friends with people. Got some very interesting takeaways. Asking for helpOne of the people who spoke was Sophia Buggs, of Lady Buggs Pharm, who gave an absolutely heart-wrenching speech about asking for help. Specifically with long Covid and the complexities of her as a woman who is Black, saying that she could not breathe. Because of long Covid, but also because of the compounding stresses that she was under (working in farming and going to DC). Eventually, she had to ask for help and while she received it, the speech was more about learning to ask for help. This struck me, as someone who had Covid and then took a very, very long time to recover. I spoke to a friend a few months back and she asked if I still needed a full day in bed every week. And I was like, what? Then I remembered that actually when we met (in Colorado on a farm), I did actually need one full day in bed [per week] for months. For the whole time I was there. At the time I was still suffering from long-Covid and nursing myself back to health slowly. That conversation was a really interesting reminder of not how far I'd personally come. But also what destabilizing events I was just absolutely (actively) forgetting from my own history. How hard it can be to ask for help in times like that.‘Burnout’I also listened to Jim Embry, who recently won a James Beard award recently (along with seed keepers Ira Wallis and Rowan White). He’s a seed guy. He's also a slow-food movement guy. He had some amazing things to say, that boil down to how we treat the world the same way we treat women. So we need to treat the world and women better. We need to return to ancestral knowledge and the knowledge keepers within indigenous communities. And it's people of colour and women and queers and indigenous people who will be leading the climate recovery. In his second talk at the conference, he was asked how he does it all. He is a speaker, travels around, works a farm etc. His response stuck out to me. His answer was this; that we have in some way been conditioned to think that if we get too politically involved or we get too invested within our communities, we will #burnout. That the weight of it all will just crush us and that we'll not be able to do anything anymore. And while that is a possibility, if we take on too much and bite off more than we can chew, we could absolutely get crushed by the weight of our own ambitions. His point was this:If you are building community if you're building a web of reliance and mutual support, mutual aid, mutual encouragement and shouldering the burden for someone else, they also shoulder the burden for you. We create an interwoven mycelial network of support. And so by doing the scary thing and getting involved in our local political scene, getting involved in our local communities, doing acts of resistance (that are at times technically illegal or at times just like scary because we haven't done them before), or relearning things, that it seems a little intimidating. By doing that, you stabilize yourself within a community. Within a space. You give the community a chance to help you. In turn you get to serve your community. His response makes me think of a book that I read recently; Who is Wellness for? by Fariha Roisin. I heard about the book because I was listening to Nikki Franco's Venus Roots podcast where she interviews the author. Roisin was saying (it was actually a very Capricorn sentiment of hers), isn't it so sexy, so exciting to be beholden to other people? To have a responsibility to other people. We could go around and be little islands, but it's so exciting that we are interconnected because it means that you are accountable to people, they're accountable to you, and you get to work together. So here is my jumble of all those interconnected little things. This week on the farm (that we're managing) We're doing a lot of little things to get ready for next year. I am going to be doing a germination test on some corn that my boss saved a couple of years ago. Glass Gem corn and Dakota Black. This season I want to grow these out in the three sisters, which is corn, beans and squash, and it's an indigenous technique native to America. Well, to Turtle Island. But I need to check that the corn will grow. To do this she's given me some pots of corn. I am (quick and dirty) going to put them in a little Tupperware with a piece of wet paper, and I'm going to put out a ten by ten square of each corn type and then see how many germinate. That will give me a germination percentage, which is actually something you have to do by law if you're going to be selling seeds. But I'm not going to get into the technicalities of that. But I'm doing germination tests this week.We're also seeding onions, building, and continuing to build our new soil table, which I talked about last week. We're going to a meetup for veg growers in the area. We're going to some training on how to make sure that your veg is kept clean post-harvest. Just to make sure that we're up to date on all of the laws or the guidelines. Long Term UpdatesThere are no true updates. But I am really, really hopeful, which is an update. When we were at the conference in Ohio, there were four or five different offers from people who were saying, I have two acres, I have a greenhouse, I just need to find some young people who want to farm it. Which made me so excited (if I was going to live in Ohio). But still, the idea that there are probably farmers like that in the UK who just don't know where to look. As long as we keep putting our word out there, we might be able to connect with them. And even if we connect with them, and it's not the right person, as long as we keep growing our networks, we can connect the right people to the right farmers. If anyone listening to this has any farmer connections who happen to have two acres (and a greenhouse), please get in touch lol. But otherwise, very hopeful, very excited. It snowed in Ohio while we were there. Lots of the people at the conference had made points about not getting snow anymore, and then it snowed. It's still not to the same extent that it was pre-climate chaos, but it was beautiful to see, so I got to see a little bit of winter that I thought I was going to miss. I'll keep you updated. Thanks for listening. Bye.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello, all. Welcome to Scrap Kitchen, where I start a farm from scratch and tell you about it. This episode is called Snowmelt. It was a name I came up with when I was planning this out, and that was before the snow all melted. I’m keeping the name because it fits in with what I want to talk about. But know that the snow has melted. It’s gone, it’s been gone for a while. Technically, the name is very accurate. Right now, I'm drinking Dandelion tea, which has a very similar bitterness to coffee. It's made from the roots. I think that's kind of funny because I'm reading a book that is the first in the Dandelion Dynasty, and my logo has a Dandelion in it. So I'm very much on theme at the moment. I'm sticking to the brand this week. Farm UpdatesThis week, what we've been up to on the farm (that my partner and I are managing) is a lot of cleaning and prepping for the early season planting. We have three high tunnels (well, one high tunnel and two caterpillar polytunnels) on the farm. We've just spent the last few days cleaning them all out of the dead plants and the landscape fabric that we didn't get to last year. Along with weeding them and prepping the beds. That is raking them smooth, ready to be seeded into. In the next couple of weeks, we're probably going to plant spinach in those beds. Maybe some rocket (or arugula, as they call it here) and probably some radishes, turnips, and maybe some green onions (if we get them seeded in time). And beetroot. There’s quite a lot planned for those beds. We've also been doing some DIY. We bought this big sheet of plywood and several sticks (planks, bits of wood) of 2x4s. The goal is to make a new seeding table. We're somewhat copying (taking inspiration) the seeding table design from Broadfork Farm (where we worked before). This consists of a box but with diagonal sides which you can put another sheet on top of it to balance your seeding trays. So the seeding table is a good height. All this soil (from the box) you put into trays, that you then put seeds into. We want the table to be a good height for the person who will be doing the seeding (to accommodate previous injuries). Ergonomic seeding. Hence redesigning the seeding table. Aside from that, we've been doing a lot of computer work. Making posters for the CSA and updating various spreadsheets so that we're ready for next year. We're also interviewing people over the next few days for farmhand positions. It’s actually been kind of busy. Snowmelt (off vibes all round)I wanted to call this episode snowmelt because the snow is melting. Obviously. But more because of how unseasonably, unfathomably, awfully, but also wonderfully warm it has been. Recently. It's been 15 degrees Celsius. I don't know what that is in American numbers, and I don't care to learn. It's been 15 degrees Celsius in February, and that is absolutely awful! I mean, it's lovely. It's lovely when you feel the sun on your face. It's glorious that I can have my legs out in mid-February. A random woman walking her dog sang a song at me about having my legs out in early spring, which was a lovely community moment and a little jarring, if I'm honest. But, this is our reality. As the climate continues to change, it makes me think back to last year when we were working in really, really strong smoke. On certain days we didn't go to work because there was so much smoke in the air (395ppm). And then that makes me think about people forced to work while there's still smoke in the air. There are these horrifying pictures of the California wildfires and the migrant workers still in the field, just masked up in dangerous fire conditions. It’s just abhorrent. I talk a bit more about the inequalities within farming (which I'll probably touch on almost every time I talk) in an interview that I did with my friend Iona , who writes the cherry log. It should be coming out pretty soon, so keep an eye out for that. I also, this is a running theme (it's almost as if wildfires are becoming more and more common), wrote about wildfires when I first wrote this newsletter. We're going to keep working in adverse, worse and worse conditions. Not only are they uncontrollable conditions, it's just going to be more of everything. In Rhode Island, where my dad currently lives, his friend grows a lot of tomatoes. Big up Mark Gravel, who gave me some banging tomato seeds. Mark has had loads of tomatoes just die because of the amount of rain that they had last year, or there's a lack of sun (in the UK), or there's way too much sun, or it's 15 degrees in February. All of this more, this unseasonability, is something that we have to design our farming systems around. It’s something that we have to breed for when it comes to seeds. So if I haven't said this already, my true love, my passion, my I don't know ( I was going to say Magda-opus, but that's really corny) is seeds. I want to breed climate-resilient plants. The best way to save a seed is to put it in the ground. Owen Taylor and Chris Bolden-Newsome at their best on the Seeds and Their People Podcast. ‘Saving’ seeds in a special little seed bank up in f*****g Norway (or wherever) is great. But they won't be able to adapt to the climate as well as if you grew them every single year and saved the strongest ones. If you want to do something, anything to make yourself and the plants around you more resilient; save seeds. Save seeds from your strongest, hardiest, toughest, wiliest tomatoes (or whatever else you grow). Future generations will thank you for it because that's what's actually going to survive. I probably want to talk a lot more about seeds, but I'm conscious of time. Longer-term UpdatesA little update on what we're doing in terms of getting land and everything else. We sent out a couple more of our mini CVs. This is what we want. Here's our vision kind of things. We've been looking into various funding options and we're still trying to look for land. There are a lot of very interesting YouTube videos on how to just ‘claim land’ in the UK and I don't think we're going to be doing that. Just like podcasts, literally anyone can make a YouTube video. We are still putting feeders out for people whose land we can use with permission. So that's the plan for now. Yeah, that's basically all I wanted to say. I don't want to ramble on too much on these things, but also we will be going to a conference this week. An organic farming conference in Ohio. And I'm really, really excited to be going. Bringing it back to my Core Tenats I talked about before, this will involve doing some connecting with other farmers and some knowledge sharing. Well, I'm going to absorb all their knowledge and I might occasionally say something kind of possibly helpful, but realistically, I'm going to be the sponge. Then I'll wring out that sponge for everyone else (this metaphor is getting disgusting). Okay, well, that's all I wanted to say, I hope you all have a lovely week. And, yeah, stay hopeful. Enjoy this unseasonable, terrifying weather.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com

Hello, welcome to Scrap Kitchen.This is my attempt at a podcast, or not really a podcast but voice notes.I have been sending voice notes to one of my friends as we live in separate countries. I thought it would be a good way of charting how we go from, we; my partner and I, go from having no land, to maybe having land, to maybe starting a farm. And maybe I should take those maybes out and make it a little bit more clear. Hi, I’m Magda. I wrote the Scrap Kitchen newsletter for about a year when I first started farming. Towards the end of the season, I got kind of exhausted. Because farming is really hard (but so worth it). It’s now two and a bit years later and I’m going to go for something that’s going to be a little easier. Hopefully a little easier to maintain and that is this voice note/podcast thing. So join me as I try to start a farm with my beloved.This episode is called The Lay of the Land and I have a lot of notes here about what I want to talk over. Along with somewhat of a time limit which I hope I will stick to.Starting from the beginning. This is the start of February, I’m here in Michigan on unceded Anishinaabeg Land.I, with my partner, manage a farm. It is a certified organic farm, it does U-Pick, it has a CSA, we sell at our farmstand and might start selling at markets. We grow a lot of vegetables.This will be my fourth year of farming. Since I quit my job mid-pandemic and moved to a different continent and learned how to save seeds (and farm). I got pretty disenfranchised with working in a start-up (ew). Mid-PannyD everyone freaked out and resigned, I was no different. I realised what I wanted to do was work the land, feed people and grow climate-resistant crops. I wanted to do it in a way that aligned with actually caring for the land. I had to find somewhere that did that (places that do that in the UK do, that's not why I left). I am an American citizen so I thought you know, I've never lived there. May as well try.Which leads to us trying to find land now.I met my partner because he also quit his job mid-pandemic to go become a vegetable farmer in Colorado. After three years, and it will be four, of farming in the US, we want to go to the UK and start our own farm.So we're looking for land.For those of you who don't know, or have no idea what the UK farming scene is like, it's really hard to get land.Land is owned in massive parcels by people (or companies, or families) who've owned it for thousands of years. Or hundreds of years. Just too long. It’s quite hard to just get 5 acres.To get around this my partner and I created this sheet with our experience, what we’re looking for (land-wise), and the vision for what we're going to do. We've been sending out to anyone and everyone we can think of. Hoping they will send it through their network.So far a couple of people have gotten back to me. Not with land but with other connections, so we have to chase those up. As of now, we have no land and we have no visa (we're also going to try to get a visa to get my partner to the UK so that we can do, you know, the farming).So you are joining us, well me (he's a part of this but this podcast is just going to be me chit-chatting), at the beginning.The hope for this podcast is that, in a similar vein to Ismatu Gwendolyn, you'll get to see me learn in like real time; How to do all of the background stuff for farming. So for people who are interested in starting farming, they'll realise oh f**k this is all the work that goes in! And for people who are already farming they'll get to say, yeah I remember when I was at that stage. Learning in real-time, showing you what it's like to be a first-generation farmer, trying to share knowledge on where people learn how to do this stuff, how we do stuff, why we do stuff.My ‘Pillars’I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few years, since my life became seasonal, assessing what really matters to me. It comes down to three things. My pillars.Nourishment- is feeding people. Trying to give people healthy food, that's cheap.Connection- is trying to build and be a part of vibrant mycelial communities/ networks. It's mutual aid. Getting involved and invested with where you live at any point in time, even if you're only there for a couple of months.Knowledge- at all points I want to break down gatekeeping. My background is a degree in biochemistry, which solidified to me that access to information comes through money (and academia is awful). People should have access to all information and resources. Scarcity around knowledge is really short-sighted. I don’t want to perpetuate the restriction of knowledge sharing, especially when it might help someone. So yeah, that's the basic overview…Right now it is a sunny day in Ann Arbor, Michigan. The snow has melted mostly. It was very snowy a week ago.We've been out to the farm and interviewed a couple of people who'll be working with us and started clearing up the high tunnel. We need to start planting some seeds. We'll be planting lots of alliums this year; that means onions, garlic, leeks. We're going to start loads of trays of onions and leeks pretty early so that we can put them in the ground as soon as possible. As soon as it stops threatening to freeze all the time.A lot of the farm work right now is doing computer work. We have eight massive spreadsheets; crop, harvest, and sales plans abound. Anyone who thinks farming isn’t maths and science is wrong. It is intense! But also pretty fun (because I am a Capricorn). Aside from spreadsheets, we're going over systems. Creating documents to make it easier for volunteers (we have a lot) that come to the farm. We want them to be able to at a sheet and know how to do something. Especially for things they might forget, they can come back and like look at this sheet that tells them how much a box of carrots should weigh. We're also ordering seeds. The most exciting time of the year! It’s like Christmas for farmers. When all your boxes full of seeds turn up and you get to think about all the things that they're going to turn into. All the possibilitiesI also saved a lot of seeds last year. I saved a lot of tomatoes and the year before lots of beans, butterfly blue peas, and luffa (a whole lot of luffa). I'll probably talk more about seed saving later and why it's so important.Now is the time to sit in the gestational darkness of spring. To think about what the year might become. To put things in place so that we can make it into a good year.The other big news on our farm is that we've released our CSA. So people have started buying our CSA shares for the coming year. For those who don't know, CSA stands for Community-Supported Agriculture. It's a box or a bag of vegetables every week for however long it runs.Buying a CSA helps a farmer because it gives them funds at the start of the season. When they haven't started selling food directly to consumers. It means that they can buy seeds or pay their workers for the first couple of months (don’t get me started on farmers and debt, we do not have time). If you have a CSA in your local area, I would suggest you get on it.There are, at least on our farm, options for people to access our CSA/produce if they are on food stamps, if they're on SNAP benefits or any other food assistance program. And various farms do that. So there shouldn't be anything like stopping someone (obviously societally there are) from getting access to fresh nutritious produce. At least on solid farms (that are trying their best), there is usually no financial barrier to people getting access to the vegetables that they need.Do not be afraid to ask your local farmer if they do that.And if they don't, f**k ‘em.Side note: it’s a purposefully difficult process to set yourself up to accept food assistance payment. Almost as if they want to discourage small businesses from partaking by bogging them down in bureaucracy. Okay, well that got way more dramatic than I was expecting in my first voice noite/podcast.But since these are just voice notes, just going to chart how I feel, it doesn't matter if you don't like my style. That's okay.And if you do like my style, then you can listen and learn in real-time along with me.So there it is.The Lay of the Land.Thanks.Bye.MFind me on Instagram, The Dots and my Website.To support my work, please consider buying me a Coffee.If you missed the last update, read it here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit xandua.substack.com