The Painful Learning Curve

On the way into town today I was listening to an author talk about the American West. That vast expanse of western states- where 85% of the inhabitants live in the city. Big booming cities like Seattle, Boise and Portland. Places where your every need is met, you can sleep all day, walk to the store, connect on wi-fi nearly anywhere and be surrounded by a million people you've never seen before and will never hope to see again.

Ah, but what of those other 15%? Where the heck are they hanging out? Well, it seems that according to this author, William Kitteridge, an awful lot of them live in swanky digs outside of even swankier cities like Sedona and Taos and Bend. So, they aren't urban, but they live like it- all of the conveniences of home, with a little extra grass to mow.

It was at about this point in the conversation that I pulled into the doctors appointment and had to shut off the radio. But, those numbers have been floating around in my head all day. Of course, being the obsessive, analytical type that I am I had to dig deeper. So, I delved into some Oregon stats to find out who our peers are. There sure ain't very many of 'em!

It turns out we're kind of a rare breed- the small family farmers. Granted there are more small family farms in Oregon then large commercial farms, but still there isn't many. For the state as a whole there are about 32,000 family farms, so each one of those farmers joined together represents a whole 1% of the Oregon population. Yep, I was kind of impressed, we're part of that 1%, kind of exciting in an odd sort of way.

But, that got me thinking a bit more about the whole family farmer versus urbanite thing. Possibly a path that I should avoid. Not because I don't love the family farmer role, it's just that sometimes I really miss the ease of the urbanite role.

This past few weeks have been trial by fire for our little band of farmers- Jon and I and the kids. We've lost chickens, including our beloved rooster Domino who died a very loud death at the hands (paws?) of our dog right on the front porch during dinner time. (Yep, that was a fun one to deal with). And this week we had the surprise delivery and subsequent demise of two beautiful little pygmy goat kids.

Other than the heartbreaks, it's just plain hard work. We've built a 48x60 barn, run new fencing, built a chicken tractor and coop, built a new goat house...those are just the "special" big projects. There is no more sleeping in. There's always wood to cut or haul. There's stalls to muck and nest boxes to clean. Eggs to gather, horses to brush, goats to walk....the list goes on.

There are times when I wish my crazy satellite internet and tv connections were less fickle, that I could make a quick run to the grocery store (or anywhere for that matter), that I didn't hear coyotes at night and had to worry about cougars eating my animals. And there are times when I'm just tired.

But, I feel like we're starting to get the hang of it. It's been such a hard start. There has been so many rewards. Fresh eggs, fresh fruit and veggies, peace, solitude, knowing that we can make it on our own. It's all been a challenge, but slowly we're starting to feel like we fit into that 1%.