The Ideal CSA Member

 

In Winter the “littles” play at garden with the bath mat.

While the morning shower washes the residue of sleepy dreams from my stretching, yawning frame, they are busy with combs and brushes “cultivating” the shaggy strands that stand in for the soil of imaginary fields awaiting precipitation.

“You’re the rain Mama! Come rain on our garden!” they cry as I step out and reach for a towel.

Harvest Day

Later, in February, the light begins to strengthen and the children gaze out the window suddenly disdainful of the recent pleasures of ice skating and sledding, positively nostalgic for summer.

“Remember the green grass we had last year Mama! We had all the green we wanted in all the world!”

Like bears coming out of hibernation we put in our seed orders in January, send out our farm-share ads in February, and now, as March approaches, I find my mind tracking the goats at the back of all the day to day thoughts of Algebra, Laundry, Dinner, and the dusting I plan to do sometime in the near future.

Next week we’ll begin regular barn checks to see if any of the does are kidding. This time of year can be difficult for young kids, especially smaller siblings born after a stronger kid has already managed to get up on its feet nursing. The cold and the competition can prove too steep a challenge for some of them without some timely assistance. (Or so we tell ourselves, eager to lend a hand and get back into the intimate game of husbandry, tired of our woodstoves, and quite evenings, ready to begin again.)

Farm-Share checks are beginning to come in. It feels like the assembling of old friends.

Swiss Chard and Summer Cover Crop 2021

Perhaps the greatest shot in the arm is the sense that there are a few folks out there who understand how beautiful it can be to take an interest in a farm, to put food on their table that has been grown and harvested without exploitation of either the people working on the farm, or the farm itself. Who are ready and willing for the challenge of eating seasonally, locally, and giving up some of the almighty luxury of choice.

A few years ago we had a booth at a CSA fair in Minneapolis. Almost every farmer we met there was anxious about the future of Community Supported Agriculture. Most of them were taking every opportunity to chat with each other and ask the dreaded question of how many members they were retaining each year, and how they had evolved to meet the ever -changing desires of their members. With very few exceptions most of them had begun to offer “Pick and Choose” options at their farmer’s market stands each week, for members to come and fill a box with the veggies they preferred and leave the ones they didn’t. Many had online marketplaces, and were harvesting individual weekly orders. Many had diversified their share sizes, offering various sizes to meet the different needs of families, couples, and individuals. All of them were larger programs than ours, and I grew dizzy at the logistical nightmares they were describing: trying to fulfill such a vast array of desires, and chasing down multiple orders, marketing them multiple ways, and the man-power such daily efforts required.

Grazing Goats in the Kale Bed after CSA season

I told one fellow veggie grower that I could not shake the feeling that these farms had failed to communicate with their members the realities involved for the farmers when grocery store styled “choice” was made paramount. I felt certain that most folks signing up for a farm-share would understand that eating what was available on the farm each week was part of the whole point of supporting a local farm, and that asking the small farm to be both the farmer and “grocer” at the same time, in the pursuit of providing the same amount of choice experienced at the stores, would be unrealistic, and downright unsupportive. Those who still valued their choice over the farm and farmer’s welfare, should be encouraged to go back to the store or farmer’s market, I argued.

“Maybe so,” he replied, “but you’ll lose some folks. These days we can’t afford to lose anybody. We’re trying to retain as many as we can, even as they seem to grow bored of the CSA model.”

As if to prove his point a woman interrupted us with a barrage of questions and demands.

She had a long list of things she wanted, things she didn’t, and wanted a pro-rated share for the weeks she’d be out of town.

Our answers were simple, but not satisfying to her. She left in a huff, shaking her head.

“See what I mean?” my fellow farmer finished. But I was more glad that she left, than I was worried that we didn’t have enough to offer.

“You can’t build a farm with members like that” I said.

Big words, I thought, but you can’t eat ideals!

That’s when the man in the Carhart vest to the right of our booth stepped over to introduce himself. He didn’t need to. I already knew who he was. I’d read several articles featuring his farm, a venture he and his brothers had begun in the Driftless region of Southwest WI on a shoestring. They were now a 400 member CSA farm and were making organic oils out of their sunflower crops, developing quite a name for themselves as one of the very few local producers.

“I miss the days out in the field.” He told me. “We got so big, I don’t even do the farming anymore. I think you’re right to stay small. It will keep you remembering why you’re doing it in the first place.”

He was wistful, and I was heartened.

Since then, we’ve found that there is an ever- growing group of people out there who are willing to sign themselves up to the adventure of supporting and eating from a farm. These people understand the “choice” the grocery store touts is largely mythological. Fewer varieties are available to the shopper in the store, due to the limited varieties that are conducive to shipping, and growing on a massive scale.

One choice you will never be given in a large grocery store is the choice of “fresh”. Our farm harvests the bulk of the vegetables in our shares hours before delivery, or at the most, a day in advance. There is no transit time across state lines in a semi-truck, waiting on pallets in the back of a distribution warehouse cooler.

Though the CSA model, is in my opinion, not as ideal as the European markets, which are open every day, largely unregulated, and are part of the daily habit of people in those walkable, live-able, closer-knit regions, it remains a vivifying way to connect to the land, eat well, and promote local stewardship of precious resources.

The ideal CSA member is one who is willing to give up the tired habit of getting what they want when they want it (at any cost), and is open to the surprise and responsibility of gift.

In this way, they are very like the farmers who grow their food.