Bee Tree Farm

Lately around here it feels like a series of unfortunate events have us penned into the “piss poor, stupendously bad luck” category. Some are things you know about: predator attacks, a torn tendon. Some of it isn’t for public consumption and related to the remains of a horrible house build experience and professional woes.  That kind of stuff. For these reasons I’ve gotten used to asking favors of the universe and being ignored, basically. But every once in a while, maybe as our luck starts to turn (yes please), the universe delivers.

I joined the Texas Young Farmers Coalition list serve a few months ago hoping to get some relevant information about – you know – young, farming Texans. It seemed appropriate. Unless you’re born into this life, it sometimes feels like a world one can only enter with a secret handshake. The path forward isn’t obvious. The list serve has so far been a great resource just to learn about which farms are hiring, what they’re selling, and to learn the names of some people active in this effort. But it wasn’t until last week that information was relayed through this outlet that caused my eyes to literally cartoon-pop out of their sockets. The Texas A&M AgriLife Extension office is offering a program called Strong Start. It’s a seminar targeting hopeful or novice farmers, particularly at the urban and small-scale levels. The seminar occurs one day each week over 5 weeks and the topics covered range from organic vegetable gardening to social media marketing. Two days are spent on two different farms, both of which are within a 10 mile proximity to my home. The classes themselves are held at the AgriLife Extension office just 2 miles down my road. This was the extended olive branch thrust forward from the universe I’ve been hoping for and, Universe, I accept.

After quickly perusing my work calendar I signed up for each class. Sent in a leave request to the boss knowing I’d go anyway even if it was rejected. Because, let’s face it, I’ve been dreaming about Farm School for years and this is the closest thing I’ve found, both physically and in its content. I can think of a few reasons NOT to go to Farm School (my name for it, not theirs, just to clarify). There’s a chance I’m flushing good money down the toilet to learn things I either a) already know, b) can figure out really easily, or c) don’t need at all. There’s a chance of that. There’s also a chance that through the class I’ll learn a) one incredibly valuable piece of information, b) meet someone who can be an ally in this process either now or in the future or, c) have a really great time. It seemed like a low risk, worthwhile investment. I’ve learned more in this process by making connections, signing up for classes, and asking questions then from any of the books I’ve read. And I’ve read quite a few. The books motivate me, but they don’t answer panicked phone calls. They don’t lean over a pasture fence to talk about hay and animal health. Google’s been a great friend too, but turns out it’s just total shit at wiping away tears and holding my hand.

Tonight I’m heading to the Texas Young Farmer Coalition’s happy hour/meet-up over at the Black Star Coop (if you’re local). It starts at 7:30, and I have no idea what to expect or whether I’ll be lucid enough to engage in the necessary meet-and-greet kind of stuff these things demand. Evenings are the toughest part of my day because of what the animals and chores require. But being a joiner and signing up can be just as important as being brave when it comes to kicking your own butt into action. And by “action” I mean doing something beyond reading the books or, in my case, something beyond petting the goats repeatedly and saying, “I love you, goats” because that’s not the kind of activity that pays the bills. See what I’m getting at? I’m trying to take things to the next level around here. Why? Because the whole milk-pails-to-high-heels-in-one-day contradiction has started to make my guts twist and contort uncomfortably. Getting here was half the journey. Making it my day job is the second, more treacherous, leg of this adventure. Stay tuned.