Tis the Season...

Well, I just got home after spending a wonderful evening out at the Main’s farm. My mom is in town visiting me, and Annie invited us out for dinner, so we journeyed out to the country. As we were driving to Capay, the sun was falling behind the hills intensively lighting the open fields- I so easily forget how vast the sky and land are. When we arrived Zach was the only one on the farm- working on the house, putting up drywall in the upstairs bedrooms. He gave us a tour of the house, showing us the latest additions and upcoming projects. Then he headed home, and Mom and I took a walk around the farm guided by the dogs, Molly and Bean. California is not known for its fall color, but I have to say there were some mighty rich shades of orange and yellow dangling from the trees- persimmon, apricot, peach, and nectarine leaves. The tomato and basil rows were disked, and the lettuce, chard, and carrot rows were lush and untouched, while the navel oranges, ¾ turned, knew they were the next to go.

Not too much later, Annie and Claire, whose home from college for Thanksgiving, came driving up. It was funny to be greeting them at their own house. Jeff, who was unfortunately not able to join us, was meeting with Kendra Johnson of California Farmlink to finalize the easement plans. All girls tonight. We assembled a meal of spinach salad, cheese and crackers with quince preserves, some wine, and dark chocolate to top it off. We talked about the early days of the alternative food movement, which both Mom and Annie were actively involved in, and where it’s headed now (are we finally reaching the tipping point?). Annie shared stories of traveling the world farm by farm, and we reminisced on my first day working at market when all met. At the time I was just looking for a part-time summer job, and now two and half years later we’re sitting together at their kitchen table.

This was my last time to see Annie before I go home for Christmas break- I’ll be missing market this week for Thanksgiving, and the following week Jeff and Annie will be traveling to the East Coast. They are first headed to see Allison in Brooklyn, where she attends Pratt Institute, and then to Durham, NC where they will gather with the other “Five Farmers” (You may recall that in May, NPR broadcasted a series called “Five Farms” which followed five farmers in different regions of the US. The Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University, who made the program, is now bringing them all together to meet.) Luckily, Chuck will be there catching the action on film, so hopefully we will get to see a bit of that experience in the future. I know it’s not easy for them to leave the farm and can even be harder to go somewhere so different like New York City, but it should be good nonetheless- well, at least as long as it rains here in the valley.

I wish good times and safe travels to you all over this season!
If you want to check out the “Five Farms” series (five 1 hour pieces), go here: http://cds.aas.duke.edu/fivefarms/

Falling out of Summer

As I opened my pantry this morning, the stacks of home-canned tomato sauce came roaring at me. I glaze over them every day, but today I saw them beyond just their jar and contents- as a symbol of what has been and what is to come. Summer has slipped away; the days of tomato abundance, triple digit heat, dry air, and long hours are done. Some days I feel as if I just arrived back in Davis and others as if I never left. Where time goes, I don’t know, but at least there have been some hallmarks along the way to remember what’s happened these past two months. My work at the market with Good Humus has continued of course, only now it’s not just the Davis Farmers Market- it’s America’s Favorite Farmers Market. That’s right, America voted and Davis was the winner. There was a celebration one Saturday for which Annie spoke about the early days of when it all first started and how she hired the still long-running market manager. It was a proud moment for everyone, and I can’t say I’m a bit surprised that Davis won.
Now, market has begun to slow, and with dusk drawing earlier each day, Wednesdays are losing their summer zeal. The produce is changing with bits of summer harvest still hanging on and new things popping in each week: winter squash, root veggies, and greens in every shape and size- ah, the glories of year-round growing in California!
In order to stop and enjoy the change in seasons and what summer harvest has brought, there’s a tradition here to celebrate all that and more; it’s known as the Hoes Down Festival. But don’t be fooled by the name, as it is no time when the farmers actually put their hoes down. In fact, it’s “hoes up” for the Mains and the farmers of Full Belly Farm, where the event takes place. For 22 years they’ve put on this event that brings in 3-5,00 people each year. It’s one Saturday full of every farm craft, activity, music, dance and good eats you could imagine. It’s impossible to do it justice in words (I recommend visiting the website: www.hoesdown.org), but I will say that after 3 years of attending and helping before, during, and after the event I have witnessed the most amazing collaboration of farmers, families, and friends who pour out all their compassion and energy into making this event the best it can be. They are a special group of farmers that are not only gifted in tending the land but creating community – community around what our culture has progressively drifted away from over the past century: the farm. All I can say now is you must come next year! It’s always the first weekend in October- be a volunteer, camp out under the orchards, and enjoy a beautiful, fun-filled, awe-struck weekend in the Capay Valley. You won’t regret it.
So with Hoes Down behind us and the rain just beginning, I believe that Fall is actually here. Last week, the air was still stark and the ground was dry as bricks, but after two days of downpour and tumultuous winds, life is looking a little different in Yolo County. I’m seeing growth and life in places that have been dead and dormant over the summer drought. It’s funny here in California, as elsewhere in the country the vegetation is preparing for winter hibernation. But no matter where we are one thing we can all do is look at our jars full of summer’s creation and be thankful for the cycles of bounty and regression, and then just think of warm tomato soup…

Screening The Last Crop's WIP in Central Valley and Bay Area

Hello Everyone,

It has been a very good week to ten days. I am getting ready to drive to Somoma State University for our 4th screening of our new work-in-progress (WIP) this week. Slow Food Sonoma State University's students are hosting a Northern California Slow Food Gathering from 12-5PM. Our screening follows the event at 5:30.

It all started with a evening screening at the 22nd Annual Hoes Down Festival held at Full Belly Farms in Guinda, CA on 10/3 . On Tuesday the 6th, we had a brown bag lunch screening at the CA Department of Food where Annie and Jeff Main spoke directly with Secretary A.G. Kawamura. Later that afternoon, we had a great screening and talkback session with 70 Sacramento State University students of the Environmental Student Organization at the university's Hinde Auditorium. Another 100 people attended our Friday night screening at the Senior Davis Performing Arts Building hosted by Slow Foods Yolo and the Davis to Farm Connection.

The response to our WIP has been very positive. The feedback has been constructive and appreciated.


We have another busy week of screenings coming up with a requests to screen our WIP at:
Land Trust Alliance (national) Rally
Portland Convention Center
Tues Oct 13 in the "Working Lands" - "When Conservation Easements Aren't Enough"...

And

Davis Senior High School's - Agriculture Department

Followed by screenings at the San Francisco School of Digital Filmmaking - hosting San Francisco Slow Foods members on 14th and with Slow Food Russian River on the 15th.


Stay tuned for next week's news.
Best

Chuck

Reflecting on TN, CA, and a little bit of in between

I just had my last day working on Williams Island Farm, and as I sit here in the humid air with billowy clouds above me sad to leave the farm and people I love yet anticipating what’s ahead of me back in California, I’m comforted and restored by what I’ve seen and been a part of this summer. You might expect that after working on a farm for two months in the middle of the summer I would be burnt, sore, itchy, and just plain tired. But, in fact, that is not the case at all- I’m hopeful, energetic, and ready to progress (and well, still a little itchy). I’ve learned a lot, done a lot, seen a lot, thought a lot, and guess what? so to have many others- all over the country. It’s like I’m this microcosm of a greater thing- that thing being the Food Movement and a resurgence of young new farmers. I’m now convinced it’s a movement. For a while I was unsure, but now I’ve been from one coast to the other and seen it for myself. People are learning and caring about food and change is happening. When I left for college in 2007, I knew of two organic farms serving the Chattanooga area and now I can easily name seven, though I know there are more. Community gardens are popping up left and right; just a few weekends ago there was an open-house community garden tour including churches, schools, food banks, and neighborhoods. This isn’t just a boogie, white, upper-middle class fad. Issues such as food deserts, food insecurity, and farmland preservation are being addressed. I read the statistics all the time- farmers markets, CSA’s, farm internships are higher than ever but now I’ve seen it for myself.

This doesn’t mean, however, that I can just sit back and watch the change happen. I’m definitely aware that this movement has long strides to make. It’s easy to get caught up in a bubble of the reality that I want to see, yet it doesn’t take much to realize how the majority is living. Just the other day I took a little visit to a Wal-Mart grocery store with a friend who shops there. I went in with a fresh and observant eye and was quickly reminded of the food that most Americans have access to and choose to buy. My Wall-Mart reality check got me thinking: just as I can go about anywhere in the US and find a Wal-Mart with buggies full of sugared cereals, frozen entrees, and fat-free everything, I too can find farmers markets with cloth bags full of summer’s bounty, artisan cheese, and fresh baked bread. But while Wal-Marts (or whatever corporate food chain there is) are the same everywhere, farmers markets are anything but the same. Yeah maybe you can find squash, tomatoes, and melons anywhere this time of year, but they aren’t the same. Each place, each farm, each product has a different story.

For this reason, I love to change where I’m living. By periodically migrating, I’m able to appreciate each place more while at the same time thinking of ways to improve them. At the first glance, two places seem fairly different, but over time similarities start popping out. I love both Davis and Chattanooga- the landscapes, markets, people, and food- for they each have their own unique flavor yet share similar values and hopes for their communities. There’s a connection, an unknown relationship, and it’s not just between these two communities- like I said earlier, it’s happening all over the country. Sometimes it just takes getting out a little bit to realize.

In honor of my love for both these places, I invited the Island women farmers, Beth and Ashley, over to share with them a taste of my experience working with Annie. We prepared a delicious Mediterranean meal of homemade falafels, dolmas, sauces, and Island veggies. The highlight of the evening, however, was teaching them how to make dried flower wreaths like Annie’s. I had been talking these wreaths up all summer long. Though we certainly don’t have the variety that Annie does, we did our best collecting what we had throughout the summer- straw flowers, yarrow, wheat, dogwood buds, and laurel branches. Since I had attended one of Annie’s wreath workshops (which luckily I sent my wreath home so we could have it as an example), I had an idea of what we were doing. At first they were doubtful, but as their wreaths slowly filled out the women were amazed with their efforts. As we continued making our wreaths, I showed them pictures from the Davis Farmers Market- in particular Annie’s flower bouquets, wreaths, and vegetable displays. They were both shocked and inspired by the variety, the bounty, and the beauty. They kept asking, “And Jeff and Annie do all this?” They have help, but yes, they are renaissance farmers. The evening ended in the best way possible. We had apricot tart (with the Good Humus apricots that I brought home and froze) and watched the latest cut of The Last Crop. For them to see the Mains in all their hard work and to hear their words was indescribable; it brought out emotions in me I didn’t even know I had. I think they were not only inspired as farmers but also assured that I was returning to good people in California. In sight, sound, taste, and touch I was able to share my California farmers with my Tennessee farmers. I can’t imagine a better way to end my summer.

With that said, I’m headed back to Davis in just a few days and will be working at the market and going to classes soon. I’m grateful for what I’ve learned and gained from being in Chattanooga but excited for what lies ahead. There’s a lot happening in this country with food issues and I’m ready to jump on. I hope that wherever you are you can appreciate the community you have and then take a step back and see your place and effort as a piece of this greater network. I think you will be amazed- but don’t get caught just watching.

Farm Life in Tennessee- Island Style

Hello all!It’s been awhile since I last wrote, so I have lots to catch you up on. I’ve been working on the Williams Island Farm back home in Chattanooga, Tennessee for about a month now. I’m absolutely loving it and learning more than I ever imagined. I’m learning not only about what it takes to grow great vegetables and raise healthy animals but also what it takes to do all of that on an island, the challenges and joys all included. The farm consists of twenty acres, of which five are cultivated, one-hundred chickens, twenty sheep, four farmers, three interns, and five to eight volunteers a week.
One of the best things about working out here is that all of us come together bringing our various experiences to make this farm what it is, and my experience working with the Mains seems to continually be of use- everything from making dried-flower wreaths to organizing the cash box at market. I think of Annie all the time, especially on Wednesdays when we go to market; I now know that getting to market- the planning, harvesting, washing, packing, driving- is more work than most people are cut out for. My appreciation for and amazement of Annie continues to grow even when I’m 2,500 miles away. Just about everything I do, I think to myself: I wonder how Jeff and Annie do this?
Though it is hard to describe exactly what I’ve been experiencing, here’s a recollection of one of my days (actually just half a day). I hope it gives you a taste of Tennessee island farming. 

It’s 7:15 Tuesday morning. The others have just crossed the river, and there are no more canoes left. I make a call and then wait to be picked up. With my few minutes to spare, I sit on the concrete boat ramp and soak in the beauty around me. In front of me is the calm water of the Tennessee River and beyond in all directions are giant green hills (often called mountains) completely covered in forest of all shades. Coming down the river gorge is a light fog from the humid summer night. The sky is not yet clear and the sun is only beginning to crack through and heat the damp air. There’s a stillness around me, yet I know it’s about to all break loose. A fish leaps into the air, the birds chirp loader, and a cluster of ants pace by my feet. The canoe arrives, and I know it’s time to start my day.We paddle across the 200-yard stretch, pull the boat out of the water, and set it on its side under some trees. We make our way through the cleared path, over roots, under weeping trees, and pass the “Williams Island Farm” sign hand painted in white letters against a royal blue background. Continuing through another path knocking down spider webs from the night, we finally make it to the kitchen. The kitchen has many functions- it’s not just where we cook and eat, it’s where we rest, talk, read, and just gather together. Once at the front, I slip my dusty Chacos off my feet and walk through the kitchen to the other side where I hang my backpack on a bent nail. Just above the row of nails is the almighty white board- it’s the never-ending list of things to do. Most mornings I take a few minutes to study it, talk priorities over with everyone, and then plan out our day’s work, but today is a harvest day and I’m already late, so I pass the board without a glance. I run out to the field to meet the others.They are just beginning to gather boxes and containers to collect the harvest in. We walk over to the spring garden. Though it’s early July, the spring vegetables are still hanging on. Most mornings there’s about six or seven of us on the farm, but today we have some volunteers. We divide up, some in pairs, each taking a vegetable. I take chard. I count out twenty-five rubber bands stretching them over my wrist, still red and swollen from yesterday’s ant bites. I start on one end of the row, pick a few leaves, and estimate how many bunches I think I can get. The plants are looking rough; this will probably be the last week to harvest it. I think I can stretch it and get twenty-five bunches. That will be enough for the fourteen CSA shares that pick up on Wednesday and some to sell at market. It’s always difficult to estimate what will sell - one week chard flies and the next it sits and wilts. Eleven bunches should surely sell. At first I notice bumps on the stems and holes in the leaves, but before long my mind drifts and I make my way down the row- sorting, picking, bunching- all in a sort of rhythm. I make it to the end and use the last rubber band; my estimate was right. I pack the box of chard in the mule making sure it’s still in the shade. There’s a crew pulling out the carrots and then a few finishing up on kale, arugula, cabbage, and beets. I check in with the others first before heading over to the Elder garden, where our summer crops are planted. Someone else has already started on the sungold tomatoes. I grab a basket and head to the peppers. They are just beginning to turn red, so I get what I can not wanting to reap those that still have potential to sweeten. With room left in the basket, I gather what I can find from the sickened cucumber and squash plants. My basket is full.We reconvene in the kitchen. I fill a mug with water and take a seat. It’s mid morning, and we are doing well. As others return to harvest, I man the washing station. First, I turn the generator on, ceasing the quiet serenity, and then proceed with the hose. The chilled well water, splashing my hand, makes me shiver as mud runs off my fingers. I dump the box of chard in, give it a good soaking, shake each bunch, and place them back in the box. As I proceed with the rest of the greens, two others are washing and bunching the carrots. How quickly they change from long brown sticks to shiny orange deliciousness. I scamper over and bite into a fallen carrot. Yum! Still crunchy and sweet, but I can tell the summer heat is starting to take the best of them.
By noon, we have finished with harvest. Of course, there will still be some things to get last minute tomorrow before market but for now this will do. We pack the mule high with boxes, buckets, and crates full of fresh produce. Noah turns the key. The starter’s shot. He tries again. Third time’s the charm. I find a spot and squeeze in. We drive down the path going over roots and big holes slowly and with ease. Once at the dock, we unload everything out of the mule to the dock then from the dock to the motor boat. Everything fits and I find a spot to sit. We try the motor but somehow water has leaked into the gas. So we row. As an unexperienced rower, I get a short lesson from Noah and then give it a go. For his every one stroke, it takes me two or three- so much for unison. Twenty minutes and many zig-zags later, we make it to the other shore. We jump out and begin unloading onto the dock. Noah brings the truck down, and we load from the dock to the truck. I climb aboard the old Ford and close the passenger door with a rickety bang. Noah chain locks the boat to a post, but the lock is rusted, so he ties it tight and hopes it’s still there when we return.
We drive down the gravel road, as rabbits and squirrels dodge the tires, and then approach the paved road- the smooth roll of the tires contrasts the roaring diesel engine. It’s a different world on the “other” side. Stop lights, fast cars, people with places to be. After about an eight minute drive we pull into an industrial site. Down by the river in an abandoned lot there sits an old ice cream truck- that’s our walk in refrigerator. We back the truck up to the fridge door. I climb in the back and hand off each box to Noah as he packs them into the cold fridge. With the last box, I step in to get a cold shock and see how much space is left. Just enough to take a nap, I think to myself. Before anymore cold air is lost, we lock it up, get in the truck, and journey back to the island. When we arrive, the table is set, everyone is gathered, and lunch is ready. Ah, a moment to restore and relax!

Unofficially, today concludes the second year of my working with the Mains. I’m leaving now to go back home to Tennessee- but just for the summer. As I reflect on my experience in Davis the past two years, I can’t imagine what it would have been like with out working at the market with the Mains. In fact, I think many people in the community would say the same- that is the Mains mean a lot to many. Just the other day, I was at a retirement party, and Jeff and Annie, who were there, were honored for the work they do to provide us with food. Just recently, there was a program on NPR called “Five Farms” which Good Humus was featured as one of the five American farms. It is absolutely incredible to listen to (www.fivefarms.org). Being aired on national radio has now spread the Mains magic beyond the Northern California region.
Being on the radio is certainly not the only exciting thing happening these days. It’s June now and that means apricots! Jeff and Annie are known for their Royal Blenheim Apricots. It’s an heirloom variety that is hardly grown anymore because of it’s delicate shelf life, but just taste one of these little guys and you’ll never want to eat another kind of apricot again. Being from Tennessee, I didn’t grow up eating apricots, but once I tasted these they quickly my favorite summer fruit (well, that is second to melons). I have a developed a particular method to eat them: I hold it with one thumb on each side of the rib and then slowly pull it apart. If it’s good and ripe the top will break apart easily and even but the bottom will be lush and juicy and will ooze as I pull it apart. I first eat the half without the pit and then follow it with the other half. There’s a rich complexity to the fruit: the top has a slightly sour flavor and crunchy texture while the bottom is smooth and creamy with the taste of floral honey lingering on your tongue that only makes you want to eat another (and another and so one until it’s too late- oh, the dangers of standing with fresh fruit at hands reach for seven hours).
When we were packing up after market on Wednesday, it suddenly hit me that my apricot season was going to be cut short this year- I was going to have to say goodbye that night. But then there was a flat leftover and the thought came to me: why don’t I just take these home to Tennessee with me? So, I did it- I carried them on the flight, ate a few as a snack, gave a few away (great conversation starter), and greeted my parents with my arms full of California goodness! Now, I get to share the Main’s magic with my own family and friends at home. In some ways having the apricots and sharing them with others eases the pain of having to leave the Good Humus stand for two months, but only as long as I still have the apricots, which won’t be long.
Fortunately, I don’t have to wait a year, like I do for the Royal Blenheims, before I’ll be back with the Mains. Until September, I’ll be staying in Chattanooga working on a small farm learning as much as I can. I look forward to comparing agriculture in TN and CA and getting a better hands-on feel for what’s happening in the food movement across the country. I’ll be sure to document it along the way and let you know how it goes.
Until then, be sure to get an apricot before it’s too late (and eat an extra for all of those who can’t get them)! And no worries cause peaches and nectarines are just around the corner…

Roots of Change screens new cut of The Last Crop

Our new 20 minute work-in-progress currently being edited by Adam Barton (HBO's CHINA's UNNATURAL DISASTER - The Tears of Sichuan Province) http://www.hbo.com/docs/programs/chinadisaster/synopsis.html) will have its first public screening to close the second day of events at the sold out Direct Farm Marketing Summit "Developing Sustainable Foodsheds to Enhance Food Access and Nutrition hosted by Roots of Change and the USDA's Agricultural Marketing Service.

The goal of the summit is to improve direct markets for producers and to increase access to culturally appropriate and nutritious food to consumers, particularly those in low-income communities, urban and rural.

In a recent interview with Michael Dimock of Roots of Change he had this to say about Annie and Jeff Main. Jeff and Annie are important in the story of the transformation of Agriculture in California towards sustainability and the nation because they represent a new type of farmer. A farmer that is willing to embrace the public and not fear change...One of the underlying problems that is effecting any possibility of sustaining food and agriculture is that most people still have a great deal to learn about what it takes to be a farmer. What it takes to feed a nation. Annie and Jeff are great representatives of one of the most important jobs in civilization which is to produce food.

Stay tuned for more updates on the conference and our new cut

A look at Yolo County during my favorite time of year

Somehow (so quick!) we have come to my favorite time of year. It’s hot in the day, cool at night. The sun rests high in the sky and sets late in the day. My sleep habits slowly change to the new rhythms of the day, and I’m once again reminded of what triple digit weather feels like. Despite the heat, there is still enough green in the land left from the winter rains to not yet feel dried out myself. Of course, the first fruits of the season are the highlight for each new week. First came strawberries, now cherries, and soon apricots will be rolling in. The other day as I planted a tomato start, I got my first whiff of summer- there’s nothing that shouts summer more than the scent of a tomato vine. But it’s not summer yet until the first tomato is picked. That’s why I love this time of year- it’s a transition from a diet of greens and roots to one of fruits (both sweet and savory). It makes we wait for the summer goodies that are ahead, and only then can I fully appreciate them.

To soak up this late spring bliss as I try patiently waiting for summer, I enjoy biking around the expansive lands of Yolo County. Going from one county road to the next and from one hay field to a newly planted tomato field, I’m reminded of where it is I am: the California Central Valley. It is so easy to get trapped in the college bubble of Davis and never see what’s going on just miles away. Yolo County is known for processing tomatoes, and this time of year it seems as if half the county is planted with them. Standing on the edge of a field looking out, I see tomato rows, straight as a ruler, run all the way to the hills. Being here now for my second year, I can recall that many of these same fields were planted in tomatoes the year before (and probably consecutive years before that). I can’t help but wonder what’s happening to the soil- are erosion rates and nutrient runoff increasing or are farmers adopting conservation practices? What about yields and profit? Will Yolo County be able to continue tomatoes this way and forever be the tomato kingdom that it prides itself on? I also wonder what has happened to the community here in rural Yolo. One day I passed about half a dozen farm homes, but at least half of them were for sale. Are families not able to survive as farmers or are they just opting out for the urbanized life? And do the people who run these farms even live here? While I’ve studied the social reconstruction of rural America and know the trends on a national scale, I’ve never put it in the context of where I am now.

When I go out to Jeff and Annie’s farm, I’m fascinated by how unique they are- or rather how they are surrounded by big ag. From an aerial view, I imagine the borders of their farm to be a halo in the valley. I often wonder what it was like when they first moved out there off of County Road 85? Were there more farms of smaller size? More families living out there? Same big cash crops? Or has it changed much at all? Are they more accepted as organic farmers now then twenty-five years ago? Are there more farmers like them? I started thinking about this a few weeks ago when I went out to the farm to help Annie with a school tour. I asked her about their neighbors. While she could name most of them, she said, “They just aren’t our community.” Honestly, I don’t know what to think of it all- whether it’s bad, good, or what should be done differently. But I do think it’s important to think about when trying to understand our complex food system. As I talked about last time, it’s all connected: the people, the places, and the food. You can’t have one without the other. So, when I eat an apricot from Good Humus, I’m not just consuming the fruit of the Main’s labor but a bite of the greater system. Who knows, maybe the bee that pollinated the apricot flower is now pollinating the tomatoes down the road…


So for now as we all long for those tasty gifts of summer, just try reveling in the wait, soaking up the new growth around, and appreciating the transition that both you and the farmers go through. Trust me, that first tomato will taste 100 times better!

5 Days in July

We are pleased to announce that "5 Days in July" received the Jury Award for Best Short at this year's Langston Hughes African American Film Festival.


You can check out the entire piece on-line at http://5daysinjulyinstallation.com/index.php

The Power of Food, Family, and Place

This weekend I experienced a sort of an epiphany. I took a trip with my mom, who’s visiting from Tennessee, down to Big Sur where we gathered with the “long lost cousins of California”. They were hosting the 60th anniversary party for their family’s restaurant. It was a day full of meeting new people, partaking in festivities, eating with another, and simply taking in the surroundings. So, here I was a distant relative completely taken in by almost strangers and having a blast. As I watched the crowd of people grow and the music, dance, and food enliven, I thought to myself, “Wow, this is a special place- it brings people from near and far to gather over food and company.”

And that’s when I immediately thought of Jeff and Annie. While they certainly are no restaurant hosting masses of people on a daily basis, their farm is a gathering place for people. Just recently for Easter Sunday about twenty or so of their relatives came out to the farm. They enjoyed a potluck feast and then had an Easter “gift” hunt in the garden. Easter, of course, is a special occasion, but the farm pulls family in throughout the year. It may just be for Sunday waffle breakfast or a Wednesday work party, but there’s no keeping family away from the farm.
The farm also extends its welcome beyond family and close friends. For instance, in August they host the Peach Party- a celebration of one of nature’s sweetest gifts. The event is open to the surrounding community bringing in a number of locals as well as an assortment of peach concoctions. In the spring and summer months, Annie leads farm tours and over night visits for local school groups. Kids not only learn the lay of the land but also get to cook and eat food straight out of the ground.

There is power in a place that brings people together over food- whether it be to cultivate, harvest, prepare, or eat the food. What makes a farm unique is that it does all of these (and more). At the core of the farm and its provisions is the family-the ones that keep it running and keep running back.

The beauty of the Main’s farm is that it’s committed to being farmed for generations to come- that is they have extended the invitation for people to gather and be part of their family. Their farm trust requires that the farmers live on the land. No other land trusts in California include such stipulations; the Mains know that you can’t separate the farmers from the farm. Above all, they know the power of their farm, its history, and its potential future, and there’s no letting go of that.

So, while I was mingling this weekend with my new found relatives, I kept thinking that this is what people are meant to do- gather over good food and good company; in essence, to feed the body and the soul. I think everyone and every family needs a place that they can do this, and in most cases I think families do. It may not be a formal, organized gathering, maybe just the dinner table, but such gatherings are what make family, not necessarily blood lines. Sadly though, in our culture farms are losing this role as the gathering place. Fortunately, the Mains are doing their part to challenge and reverse this cultural phenomena. As Annie told me, “This farm is opening its doors to a bigger family than relations- the family of community. Farms should not be places only a few privileged get to experience; our communities need a place of refuge right in their own neighborhood, at the farm that grows their food. Our project is replacing the family farm being passed to family; it is trying to hold onto the family values but enlarge the family to those that want to farm.”

As we all know, it takes work to keep a family and even more so to keep a family and community farming. Though not an easy task, we can start, as Jeff and Annie assert, by “standing our ground in the places we love.” (http://www.goodhumus.com/pages/video/adobe-ghp1.html)

So with that, I bid you happy gatherings and happy eating with the people and at the places you love!

5 Days in July screening in Seattle

This just in - if you are going to be in Seattle this coming Saturday afternoon 4/18 check out 5 Days in July at the Langston Hughes African American Film Festival.


The 2PM screening will be at the Langston Hughes Performing Arts Center - 104 17th Avenue South


Love to get your feedback

Welcome Springtime!

Spring is definitely here! In California, our spring comes earlier than most. The first blossoms popped up in late February. By now the blossoms have moved on and fruit is already beginning to form. How crazy it is to think in just a few weeks we will have cherries!

Besides the bloom, another sign that it is Spring is the Wednesday farmers market. We are now back to doing two market days a week. Wednesdays are more relaxed with slower business but a nice ambiance. Lots of families and students come and have dinner and listen to live music in the park. Though I love working the Good Humus stand, on occasion it’s hard not to get jealous of those out on the green.

The ironic thing about this time year for farmers is that while most things are bursting with growth and vibrance, crops overall are in a low period. This is an in-between-season stage - the winter crops are beginning to bolt and the spring crops are not quite ready. Fruit, especially, is limited as citrus is winding down and summer sweets are still a ways off. Luckily, Annie has mastered the art of growing flowers and bouquet making which help carries them through this short lull.

I just have to say that Annie’s flowers really are amazing- or rather Annie is really amazing. Speaking of Annie’s flowers, this brings me to my next topic: my visit out to the farm!
Today was special- I got to go out the farm (and see where the flowers come from!). This is something I don’t ever do mostly because I don’t have a car and my schedule is hectic. Being the beginning of the quarter and having found friends with cars, I was able to get out there today. Annie was hosting a digging party to invite people to come out and help her in her garden. I came with one of my friends Margaret Loyd, also a student at UC Davis. Also there were Kendall, who also helps at market, and her daughter Anna. Together we worked and in about 2 hours had turned a good sizebed of soil. Annie said these beds hadn’t been turned in over 15 years; it was clearly time for a makeover.

We followed the dig with the famous Main Sunday breakfast (at about 1:00). Annie made waffles and hashbrowns and Jeff squeezed fresh orange juice. We topped it off with an assortment of fruit from the market- kiwis, apples, Asian pears, and strawberries- and Annie’s array of homemade syrups- pomegranate, apple, and elderberry (there is no way you can choose just one!). We even had coffee with raw milk from their friends up the road at Full Belly Farm. What a farm feast!

With our bellies full and happy, Annie gave us a tour of their new house under construction. I was truly in awe at the work they had done. Though for them this has been a long and tedious project, I couldn’t get over the fact that they were doing it themselves with just the help of a few friends. My favorite part about the house was how Annie had named all the bedrooms according to the trees that she had planted for each child.

We ended the visit by gathering plants to take home that Annie no longer wanted. I dug out a big heap of oregano and a bunch of irises that I later put in my own garden. It was amazing to see the variety of plants growing and hearing the stories behind each one. As we were there digging and exchanging ideas about plants and gardens, it got me thinking that this is how learning and the passing of knowledge and resources are supposed to happen. In many ways, this is what Jeff and Annie are trying to do with their farm preservation project. Not only are they working to preserve the land for farming use but also the cultural practices and knowledge that the land embodies. So, in the end I was leaving with way more than just an armful of herbs- I left with a greater appreciation and yearning for community sharing in connection to the land.

I’ve decided to make a new commitment to coming out to the farm more regularly. I’m not quite sure how I will get there or how it will fit into my schedule, but I need to do it. (For starters, I just found out that there is bus that goes up the valley- I’ll be sure to let you know how that goes.) Until then, I’ll be thinking of what plant I can share with Annie- if there is one... maybe I should just stick to sharing my muscle power.

Be sure to enjoy the Spring wherever you are and with whomever you can!

The Rural Studio screening at Ecoweek 2009 in Athens, Greece

We are pleased to report The Rural Studio is in good company joining the documentaries The 11th Hour and An Inconvenient Truth as part of Ecoweek 2009's film screening series.

Ecoweek 2009 is an international conference for young architects and landscape architects and students of Architecture and Landscape Design.

What's Ecoweek? Founded in 2005 it is an international non-profit non-governmental environmental agency whose mission is to raise awareness, inform and involve people in making choices and adapting habits that protect the environment.

"Because...habits change...climate change"

March Updates on THE LAST CROP and introducing Katie Cooper

Hi I'm Chuck - one of the filmmakers and this is my first blog.


I just returned from a trip to the Bay Area and Central Valley, where we had our first public screening of The Last Crop's 10 minute work-in-progress. Our hosts were Slow Food Alameda, Capay Valley Vision with 20 Capay Valley farmers (yikes) and UC Davis' Center for Regional Change and Students for Sustainable Agriculture.


I am happy to write that I was greatly encouraged by how well the film was received at all the venues. Our audiences were small ranging between 12-20 but they really connected to our characters - Annie and Jeff Main. They wanted to know more about them and how they could help. There was lots of positive feedback about the film's content, the power of Annie and Jeff's personal story and their commitment to sustaining Good Humus Produce as a working farm. This was the start of our decision to carry out public screening forums throughout the film's production. Dave and I feel that these events will help us build our audience and gain supporters for the project. In fact, all three venues asked us to come back with a new longer version which will be edited in the next couple of months.


No matter what venue questions arose: regarding further clarification of the Main's farm easement? Should we continue using our working title The Last Crop? (it is provocative) Many wanted to see more hard data about our country's farmers and their shrinking number and of course where does the film goes from here? Members of Slow Food Alameda expressed their pleasure in seeing the people behind their weekly CSA (community supported agriculture) boxes. In response to our decision to focus on one small family farm in CA's big Central Valley one member quoted Margaret Mead "No change has ever been made without it starting with an individual."


I admit I was nervous about screening the film at the Guinda Grange Hall with 20 local farmers but I was heartened by their general support for our story and our commitment to giving a small family farm in the Central Valley a voice. Yes, they had issues with how we will connect the Main's story to the big issues facing them - regulations, the drought & the economy. They wanted us to clarify farm preservation versus farm succession, show where Annie and Jeff's CSAs wind up, develop the threat of urban sprawl to their way of life but I feel that we all gained a certain amount of trust for each other from the screening.


At UC Davis - Zack Main (Annie and Jeff's 24 year old son) joined me for the discussion. As I had hoped, the students connected with Zack and his honesty regarding his life on the family farm; his decision to take another career path as a fireman; and that although difficult he supports his parent's decision that he and his sisters will not inherit their family farm so that Good Humus Produce will continue to be a viable working farm into the future. The students also voiced their want for us to include the Main's organic/sustainable farming practices.Oh and out of that screening - I am delighted to introduce you to Katie Cooper who has volunteered to help us with her own blog regarding Good Humus Produce and The Last Crop. Katie works with Annie on Wednesdays and Saturdays at the Davis Farmers Market while she studies International Agricultural Development at UC Davis.


So please check out Katie's blog.

The first thing I want to do is thank Jeff, Annie, Zach, Alison, and Claire. The Mains are an incredible family, and I am so honored to know them and call them my friends.

So, now I better say who I am. First off, my name is Katie. I was born and raised in Chattanooga, TN and by fate have wound up in California working for Jeff and Annie at the Davis Farmers Market. I actually fell in love with Davis the moment I saw the market. I told myself “Davis is where I’m going to school and the market is where I’m going to work.” From the day my parents dropped me off in Davis after driving across the country until now, I have had the privilege of working for the Mains at the farmers market. Without a doubt, my life in Davis would not be the same without them.

But besides working for the Mains two days a week, I am a student at the University of California Davis studying International Agricultural Development. I have a strong interest in creating an agricultural system that encourages new farmers and sustains the current ones, promotes more ecologically sound agricultural practices, and ensures that all people have access to good food. But my true passion lies in the kitchen where my creativity and love for food has no limits. Food is truly amazing. I love everything about it: how it grows, how it tastes, and, most of all, how it connects people. After all, it was food that brought me to Davis, then to the market, and ultimately to the Good Humus stand.

Now what about this movie- The Last Crop? Well, for me it all started about a year ago. It was a cold Saturday morning at the Davis Farmers Market and, as I was standing there doing my thing- weighing produce and giving out change- I realized I was being filmed. That is when I first met Chuck Schultz and David Ranghelli. It was a friendly encounter, but I didn’t think much of it. Then about ten months later I get an email from Chuck saying he’s coming to Davis and wants to show some of the documentary he is doing on Jeff and Annie to some students. Wow, this is the real deal.

Less than a week ago Chuck came to campus and presented the trailer. It was stunning. My appreciation and admiration for the Mains grew even more. The ten minute snippet captured a side of Jeff and Annie that I don’t get to see: at home on the farm. I also don’t get to see the two of them work together. It’s just Annie that comes to market, and on the rare occasion that Jeff does come it’s because Annie can’t. Thus, this movie is testament of their partnership and devotion to each other, their farm, and their community.

After viewing the trailer, the participants, many of which were students, had the opportunity to discuss likes, dislikes, concerns, questions, and suggestions. Much of what we talked about concerned the actual Land Preservation Project that Jeff and Annie are working on. We learned that what makes their easement different is that it ensures the land will continued to be farmed with environmentally responsible methods and that it will be valued solely on the basis of its agricultural value. While similar projects have been done in the Northeast, the Mains are the pioneers in California. Present at the event were both Zach Main, eldest child in the family who I work with at the market, and Kendra Johnson, the regional coordinator for California Farmlink. It was great to hear Zach’s perspective- how even though it may be hard to see his family farm be passed on to someone else, he knows it’s what his parents want and, thus, what he wants. He testified that just because he or neither of his sisters may want to farm doesn’t mean the farm has to go. It’s good humus and it’s here to stay!

Now, I am just anxiously waiting to see the rest of the documentary. But no worries, you don’t have to be anxious, just patiently excited. Until the opening day, I’ll be blogging for you all to keep you updated on what’s happening at Good Humus and in the world of agriculture. I look forward to sharing more in the near future.

Cheers to you all,
Katie

Screening: The Last Crop

The Last Crop

March 5, 2009 (6pm)
Guinda Grange Hall
Guinda, California
530-787-3353

For more event details visit the Screenings & Events Page at www.blueprintproductions.biz.

Screening: 5 Days in July

The Last Crop

Sunday, February 8th, 2009 (2pm)
AMC 9 CINEMA - WEST ORANGE FILM SOCIETY
Essex Green Shopping Center, 495 Prospect Ave.
just off 280 exit 8A
West Orange, NJ
973.324.9100

For more event details visit the Screenings & Events Page at www.blueprintproductions.biz.

Part of the Black Maria Film Festival

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Screening: 5 Days in July

5 Days in July

February 7, 2009 (2pm)
Newark Museum
Billy Johnson Auditorium
45 Washington st.
Newark, NJ
973-595-6550

For more event details visit the Screenings & Events Page at www.blueprintproductions.biz