A World of My Creation

With a portable speaker tethered to my phone and blaring tunes across the garden, I was well into my second cocktail and feeling damn good—if you know what I mean. Spotify’s DJ-X was nailing the vibe—aspirational and inspirational tunes, one after another, and I baltered about the rows and beds pulling weeds here and there, trellising cucumbers and pruning tomatoes. Content in my Saturday evening garden-party, and reveling in this work I love to do.

The bluebirds, finches and song sparrows worked around me as they’ve done all season. Circling the garden, soaring out and then swooping in to pick off an unsuspecting insect. A song sparrow alights on a sunflower nearby to serenade me, and my heart swells to know I’ve created a garden that works with nature in this way. Using the resident bird population to manage pests, I haven’t sprayed a single pesticide all season.

When the first notes of Pure Imagination rang out across the garden, I stopped in my tracks. The sun was sinking low behind the trees at that point and the landscape was bathed in the golden glow of late evening, just before twilight begins to descend. Birds called and insects filled the air space across the yard and field, and I surveyed the magnificence of this year’s garden as the legendary Gene Wilder sang “Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination…”

My heart swelled with love and pride and wonder at this thing I’ve created at Runamuk, and gratitude washed over me. For a girl who grew up in a trailer park, coming from a dysfunctional family with no farming background—to have such a home and property still moves me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks.

The season’s only half over, and it’s already been a lot. Read on to see where things stand now...

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DRs & DIVORCES
Since my last update, I've had my annual wellness visit with my PCP—just a routine visit to be able to remain a patient with my local health center. I'm reaching the age where preventative screenings matter more, so I allowed them to take a blood sample. At this point I'm healthy as a horse, so there's nothing to worry about. I also got divorced last week, bringing a resolute end to the Maine Homestead Life detour and any expectation I ever held for finding a "partner" in life and farming. It’s just me and the Universe now. And you!

FEEDING PEOPLE
I’m harvesting almost daily right now, feeding CSA members as well as my own household, and last weekend I finally had enough produce to warrant opening the farmstand. It’s later in the season than I’d intended. But given what I’ve been up against after losing last year to off-farm work, it can’t be helped. Next year will be better.

This week CSA members had their pick of zucchini and summer squashes (half-off due to abundance), scallions, Swiss chard and beet greens, peppers, cipollini and red onions, a selection of herbs, and even squash blossoms.

FARMSTAND REFRIGERATOR
Scouting Facebook Marketplace, I found a refrigerator available for FREE and located just 8 miles away in Embden. It’s a full-sized model, offering plenty of space for keeping vegetables cold. I brought it home with BraeTek’s help, installed it on the farmstand, and—after a good cleaning—I put it to work.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is you can grow all the food you want, but if you have no way to hold it, most of that produce will rot before you can sell it. Without a truck, though, bringing home even a used model for free was out of my reach. Now that I have the truck, there’s a whole new level of opportunity open to Runamuk.

BREAD IS BACK!
Every year, without fail, I go through a phase during the spring planting crush when I don’t want to bake or even hardly cook. I’m so consumed with the garden and the joy of being outdoors again after the long Maine winter that I can’t be tied to the kitchen. Knowing this, I set myself up for the dearth by baking ahead and stocking the freezer with numerous loaves of my homemade breads. That supply lasted us till about early June, and still I refused to do much more than the occasional REAL-food dinner.

At one point, because we were eating a lot of sandwiches and wraps during planting season, I resorted to buying a loaf of bread from the store and then hated myself as I ate the rubbery processed stuff.

Finally, the dry spell is over and the urge to cook and bake and make food for my own household and my neighbors is returning to me. Last week I did a round of sandwich bread, one to eat fresh and two for the freezer, along with a double batch of sourdough—one for us, and one to give to a CSA member. This week I’ve made 8 sourdough boules for the farmstand, as well as processing zucchini into bread and muffins—some for us and some to sell.

HAY & CONVEYOR SALES
With the sheep gone and my farm-plan pivoting, I decided to sell the remaining fifty bales of hay sitting in the loft rather than see them go to waste. The hay conveyor—another piece of farm-equipment I scored for free through Facebook Marketplace—was harder to let go, but I wanted to pay that blessing forward to another farm or homestead. With that in mind, I sold it for a scant $200 to a gentleman farming over in Solon (about twenty minutes from Runamuk).

BRAETEK GOT HIS LEARNER’S PERMIT
Hold onto your hats, cause BraeTek got his learner’s permit this week! Yes—we’re a little behind with it since he is nineteen now—but we didn’t want to pay the expense of Driver’s Ed, he was wrestling with test-anxiety, and I was honestly not keen to have him on the road at such a tender age.

As a homeschooling mum, I’ve long held the belief that children will progress and learn best at their own pace and I have not rushed the adulting process—for better or worse. Now he is more mature and mentally prepared to take on the responsibility that comes with driving, though that doesn’t necessarily take away my own fears as mum, lol.

We’ve got six months to practice together, though, and prepare the both of us for the inevitable. Living in rural Maine, your world becomes so much smaller and your options limited without the ability to drive from one place to another.

If you’ve been following me for very long, likely you know that I’m an 80’s kid with a penchant for retro movies that remind me of my youth. I was raised on Disney, Back to the Future, The Goonies, MacGuyver, The A-Team, The Care Bears, Captain Planet, Looney Tunes, Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood, Reading Rainbow—all that stuff. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Gene Wilder is an iconic movie dear to my heart for not only the message the story relays, but also the musical score. Pure Imagination in particular has always resonated deep in my soul, with lines like: “Anything you want to-do it...want to change the world—there’s nothing to it…”

That’s what I’ve been trying to do here at the Runamuk Acres Conservation Farm—change the world by my example. I’m not waiting for politicians. While the food system gets more consolidated and more fragile by the year, I’m feeding people directly—CSA boxes, a farmstand, bread I baked myself instead of that crap from the store. That’s not a slogan. That’s just Tuesday.

Looking around that evening, I could see this truly is a world of my creation, and I know how truly fortunate I am to have it. Maybe you’ve built something of your own like me—a garden, a business, a life you built or re-built from nothing even when nobody believed in you… If you have, I’m betting you know that same feeling, and it’s worth standing still long enough to take that in because that’s not nothing. That’s a big fucking accomplishment and we need to own those.

I said thank you to the Universe that evening—but now I want to say thank you to my community. From the very beginning I’ve been supported along my farmish journey by a looooooooooooong list of people. Friends and family, community members, CSA members, paid subscribers—people in real life, and even more people online. The ripples I am creating here at Runamuk have spread all around the globe to people I’ve never met nor will ever meet. So I say thank you to everyone reading this who’s still here with me. This operation is held up by more hands than mine alone—even those who will never touch this soil.

"There is no life I know, to compare with pure imagination. Living there, you'll be free if you truly wish to be…."

That’s Runamuk. Birds working the rows, bread in the oven, and me still outside at dusk, watching it all come together. Thanks for believing in me.

—Sam

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