by Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist; Read original post on Noozhawk here.
How did it take me six years to discover Farm Day? The only way our time in the country could have been more fun would be if we’d brought a grandkid or two. But there were plenty of other kids with whom to vicariously enjoy the wonders of exploring food at its source.
We drove through the Santa Ynez and Santa Maria valleys on a beautiful August day that displayed the crisp honey hills of late summer. The three tours we signed up for were all family farms rich in history and pride. Rancho Laguna, Ballard Walnut Grove, and Santa Barbara Blueberry farmers walked us through the intricacies of soils, composting, planting, and harvesting. The organic berry farms had ingenious ways of coping with agriculture free of poisons, pesticides, and artificial fertilizers.
In each tour, farmers gratified us with fascinating facts without sermonizing to soft-sided city folk. Did you know lowly worms improve soil structure and drainage while increasing nutrient availability? Did you know the average size of a Santa Barbara County farm is 487 acres?
The berry farms were immersive experiences. We were encouraged to grab a clam shell to pick and take some home. The field blueberries were larger and sweeter than I’ve ever brought home from the market. It turns out these best blueberries are sent packing east because Easterners are used to paying more for berries.
Fifteen farms, ranches, wineries, and agricultural organizations welcomed visitors to tramp in the soil, finger compost, ogle goats, ride tractors, and sample produce. FFA (Future Farmers of America) students helped with handouts, directing cars, and sharing their own knowledge of farm ways.
Farm Days, showcasing mostly organic farms, are presented by Students for Eco-Education and Agriculture. SEEAG was founded in Ventura County in 2013, with a mission of educating the community about the farm origins of our food and agriculture’s contribution to nutritional well-being.
None of the farmers sugarcoated the difficulty of their calling. Their love and pride were evident, though, in their faces as well as their beautiful farms. I regret that I don’t have the fortitude and patience to be a farmer.
Instead, I have a 6-by-10-foot Three Sisters garden of which I am more pleased than I have the right to be. I was moved to plant it while reading “Braiding Sweetgrass,”a remarkable book that explores the relationships among people and plants in both the Native American and Western European traditions.
Three Sisters gardens have formed the backbone of food culture in much of the Americas for millennia. Corn, beans and squash are grown as companions. Beans are planted close to young corn stalks, where they find a ready structure to climb. Squash is planted last, so its broad leaves and fast-spreading stems can keep down weeds and preserve the soil’s moisture.
By the time I learned this in “Braiding Sweetgrass,”it was too late in the season to plant seeds. Plus, I have a very poor record with seeds. Instead, I grabbed whatever varieties of corn, beans, and squash were left at the nursery. It was serendipitous good luck: I loved being surprised at the varieties that emerged.
Early bounties included luscious green pole beans, sweet and tender. As the season progressed, long shoelace-length green beans emerged. Long and curly or short and tender, all were welcome.
The success of my corn was astonishing. They were dessert-sweet and – wait! I thought each stalk only yields one ear of corn? I harvested ten ears from my six stalks, plus a few tiny ones that didn’t finish developing.
The squash also outperformed my expectation. The first fruits were a couple of large yellow squash the size of tennis ball cans. I baked and scooped out seeds like a winter squash, but the skin was tender enough to eat. These were followed by my favorite “space ship” squash reminiscent of small green buttermilk donuts. We’re still reaping little squashes the size of game board hourglasses with a delicious nutty flavor.
My garden is now crispy brown and leggy after the heat wave. Nevertheless, every time I water, I find a few more green beans hidden beneath huge squash leaves. A small fuzzy ping pong ball has grown into a hard green sphere the size of a small cantaloupe. I’m not sure when to harvest it.
I don’t think my crop will qualify me to give a tour on Farm Day 2025, but I’ll have some more educated questions.
Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist
Karen Telleen-Lawton is an eco-writer, sharing information and insights about economics and ecology, finances and the environment. Having recently retired from financial planning and advising, she spends more time exploring the outdoors — and reading and writing about it. The opinions expressed are her own.