mandarine

Remember that I recently recommended reading George Monbiot? Well, he’s just agreed to my translating his recent article Small is Bountiful, in defense of smallholdings, on my garden blog. Not that you need a French translation anyway, but I thought I’d let you know.

Mowing is more fun when it allows for some creativity.

Two weeks after moving in, our hens (at least one of them) have started laying. So far, we’ve had six eggs in one week. It would be enough if the eggs were standard calibre. But it takes two of our bantam eggs to make one ‘normal’ egg.

In any case, they tasted delicious.

Now is the time for my farmer self to say good-bye and move to roomier premises. The Mandarine half here will presently revert to literary mutterings, amateur photography, dilettante philosophy and leftist social criticism.

For those interested in my experience (and my errors) as a gardener, you can visit my new website, l’arpent nourricier, which I declare open as of now. If you read French, good for you. If not, you can still look at the pictures

My primary objective is to write about this wager of mine that I’ll be able to farm a garden big enough to feed a family while still working full-time (80% full-time) as an engineer. My secondary objective is much more pretentious: I want to transfer to the French-speaking internet all the experience and resources I can from the very vast corpus of resources and techniques for new, small-scale, organic farming from the English-speaking internet. My ultimate goal (apart from the obvious selfless contribution to the good of that part of humanity which happens to read French and among whom I happen to live) is that there is a chance that like-minded people might get to know me, and offer me to participate in projects involving local, small-scale, organic farming.

The name “l’arpent nourricier” translates to “the nurturing acre”. It is too bad that the term “nourricier” in French only conveys the “food” idea, and not the “care” idea that “nurturing” implies. It would have been an even better name.

PS: do not worry about the theme, I will be changing it as soon as I can.

Let me introduce you to our new tenants in the garden: Mr Orpington, Mrs Orpington, Mrs Orpington and Mrs Orpington, a family of bantams proudly acquired this morning from an almost-neighbour (20 km drive, with the poor things in cardboard boxes).

I had been considering the possibility of having hens in the garden for a long time, and now is the great leap forward for me and them. I count on them for many things:

• eat, peck, scratch, so that after a month, the patch of prairie under their chicken tractor is devoid of any weeds and pests, and I only have to fluff the soil up a little with a broad fork and then plant my seedlings.
• dispose of kitchen scraps, saving me 90% of the work with composting
• lay eggs
• brood some of the eggs and raise the chicks so that we can eat one of our tenants now and then
• entertain us and the kids with their chickenness

In return, they count on me for:

• moving the pen now and then
• replenishing the water bowl and grain plate
• leaving them alone when I can help it

Let us hope this very unequal partnership will give us full satisfaction. After all, they can’t complain. Industrial layers generally have to live on 2/3 of an A4 sheet of paper of real estate. My hens have twenty times that.

I feel as generous as a western executive building a brand-new factory in a Kuala-Lumpur suburb.

Self-catering is the cultural norm

You have a kitchen. You buy your food, but you cook your meals. And you know you would not relinquish your kitchen and always eat out or call a caterer or buy instant food because:

• you could not afford it (*)
• you’d lose the pleasure of cooking
• you’d lose on quality
• you would not really know what went in the meals you eat

Why cook and not grow?

Maybe agricultural practices of olden times were inefficient enough that any job at the factory paid more food that one could grow otherwise. I doubt that. I would rather say that the social conditions drove people out of the land and into factories regardless of the economic interest for them. In any case, new techniques and practices (mulching, crop rotations, polyculture, cover crops) have considerably reduced the labour needed to grow food on the garden scale since the time when our society bifurcated from distributed micro-agriculture to the ugly industrial model which is currently ruining our lives, the planet, and our kids’ future.

I say that, just like we can show that the average speed of a car is not much higher than that of a bicycle if we count the time one works to pay for the car, we can show that the time one works to pay for food is not much shorter than the time it would take to grow said food (**).

Obviously, I have taken the real-estate factor out of the computation. Not everybody can afford 300 square meters of vegetable garden + 500 square meters of cereals and another acre of grassland for one ewe. This is another matter and relates to a future post on why we pack people into cities in the era of the internet.

My project for 2008

I wager that personal agriculture can make a new dent in the over-centralized, over-specialized, industrial model, just like personal computers wiped out mainframe systems when nobody expected them. In 2008, I will try to prove something: I will spend one hour per day in my garden (maybe two because I am a beginner; maybe three because one must not forget the pleasure factor) and I will try to feed my family.

I will blog about my endeavour. In French. Soon.

Meanwhile, enjoy this song (by French artist Ridan) which expresses my current state of mind better than I could.

Je préfère être pauvre avec mon âme que vivre riche avec la leur ; si le blé me file du bonheur, je me ferai peut-être agriculteur

I had rather be poor with my own soul than be wealthy with theirs; if [growing] wheat makes me happy, maybe I’ll turn farmer

Footnotes

(*)

In case you can spare one hour of wasted time (commuting, washing up, walking the dog, working out), I invite you into my world:

‘What will we eat when the oil runs out?’. Lecture by Richard Heinberg. (From The Soil Association)

You may have seen it coming; I think I have reached a tipping point in my life. I want out of the treadmill of (debt- and) wage-slavery. My career as a classical engineer for the aerospace industry will have to gradually give way to a new life as a farmer. Not the intensive-type farmer. Just the type of farming that can feed family and some neighbours and leave time for whatever things I feel must be done (like continuing with the well-paying engineering work while it remains so interesting, working for LibriVox, developing websites for community initiatives, blogging, reading, raising kids, cooking meals for guests, whatever makes life the best experience possible).

Additionally, the new way of life will probably be more robust in case when we get hit by one of the looming crises (oil, finance, climate). Funny that the lifestyle I want should also probably be the life I would have to adopt sooner or later anyway, like all those who fled cities and returned to homesteads during the great depression or WWII. If no crisis comes, so much the better.

I do not think the tone of the blog will change much, but I will sure write more about my farming endeavour and try to share some of my enthusiasm.

I cannot remember when it started. Maybe the turning point was shortly after I started on my first job eleven years ago, when I explicitly told my wife that although I had one of the most prestigious degrees in France, I would not go for the associated prestigious careers. Instead of using my position to get the highest paychecks, I’d be using it to get the best quality of life possible.

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Four meters. This is how long the surprise cucurbitacea near my potato patch has grown now. It must have sprouted some time in June, but I only started noticing it around the end of August when it started blooming and I could not mistake it for any old weed.

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