January 2025
There’s a lot going on this year.
Normally we take a few weeks off after Christmas, run a skeleton staff to cover the farm shop, give the box scheme a break for a week, and close the wholesale. Often we spend the time in hibernation with jigsaws and quietness, but this year we stepped straight from the madness of Christmas into renovating the shop with bespoke made shelves (thanks to Torrin) whilst I juggled the two boys.
New shelves!
We’re navigating my parents taking a big step back from the business too this year, and now is the time to plan it. They’re going away to Portugal for ten days and when they return, I’m hoping we’ll have covered their absence so well they wont need to step back in to work. The problem is, whilst they deserve a long and relaxing retirement, neither of them can take more than a half hour break without getting twitchy. Mum is already planning to fill any spare field space with cut flowers, and Dad, well, I‘m hoping i can give Dad a box of spanners and some WD40 and send him off to fix the endless rusting pieces of old planting equipment getting comfortable in the hedges.
On top of all these changes, the recent storms have destroyed a few polytunnel covers, and ripped the (to be fair, fairly ancient) doors from their hinges from the four-span poly too. It happens like this sometimes, in cycles. And whilst Torrin and I spend any stormy night fairly stressed, there is a surrendering that happens at about 4am, where we know whatever will happen, will happen, and it’s just our job to deal with the consequences, fix what we can, and work alongside the changing natural circumstances.
Cleaning tunnels under November skies
This year, with so much else going on, I felt like the ripping of old plastic was significant. Time for change. Sometimes you have to break something open to turn it into something new. Instil new systems. New priorities. Take responsibility in a different way.
Here’s hoping we up to the challenge.
Kale-Swede-Kale-Leeks