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Dear Reader, Last February, one of the growers we mentor, Lindsey knocked her curtain rod loose in her kitchen. The rod that held her seedling trays in place. Every seedling she had started, lettuces, microgreens, pepper, went flying. Soil on the walls. Trays on the floor. An hour of cleanup. She could have cried. She almost did. But she didn't quit. By March she was filling raised beds with cardboard, straw, old leaves, and half-finished compost from a bin that had spent the winter getting — her words "quite wet and stinky." By April she was harvesting salad greens regularly. This is her deck And this was her backyard. She fugured out how to get a cattle panel home in her sedan. She ended up renting a Home Depot truck for $20. Her kids were jealous she got to drive it. In June, Lindsey harvested her first flowers. By July (the month every gardener wants to throw in the towel) she was in her garden after dark, checking for new cucumbers by flashlight. I asked her what she told herself on the hard days. "A rainstorm would come through and water everything deeply, or I'd notice an army of assassin bugs or praying mantises, or find a hornworm covered in beneficial parasitic wasps — and I'd just be reminded that Mother Nature has her own way. I can support a healthy ecosystem. I don't have to carry it all." In August she went on vacation for ten days. She mulched heavily, asked her mother-in-law to water, and braced herself. She came home to find everything mostly fine. "The things that weren't fine," she told me, "probably wouldn't have survived even with my careful monitoring and intervention. Learning to step back and let things happen is a lesson that applies to many aspects of my life." By September, Lindsey was leaving bags of tomatoes on her neighbors' doorsteps. She grew eight varieties of tomato, six types of pepper, four varieties of lettuce, herbs, flowers, microgreens, beets, carrots, radishes, peas — and several varieties of melon that she lost completely to cucumber beetles. "Into the compost you go," she said of the failed melons. "Thank you for your service to this ecosystem." Last week a praying mantis fell on her head while she was wandering through her trellises. She's not sure if that's good or bad. I asked Lindsey what she wished someone had told her in January. "Only grow things you really like to eat. And it's kind of freeing to just remove something you don't care for." And what does "good enough" look like now, compared to what she thought it meant last winter? "I realized that not every bed has to have something in it all the time. Dialing back a little gives me more room to actually watch the seasons change and pick up on those subtleties — which is why I garden in the first place." I share Lindsey's story because she is not a professional gardener. She doesn't have a farm. She has a backyard in Northern Virginia, a deck, some grow bags, two kids, and a full-time job as a nurse. This is what permaculture gardening looks like in a real life. Not perfect. Though doesn't this picture look IG-worthy to you? We hope Lindsey's story encourages you to keep on growing, no matter what stage you are in your garden journey. Fall Farm Tour: Oct 17-18!We're opening our home (not Lindsey's), Bethany Farm for the Loudoun Fall Farm Tour on October 17 and 18. Guided walks, garden workshops, plants and produce to take home, a snack under the tree. Plus, Dave and my daughter will be baking straight from the garden!
Grow abundantly, P.S. Lindsey — thank you for letting us share your story. Your garden is extraordinary. And 2027 is absolutely your year of berries. P.P.S. Not local to Northern Virginia? Our Seed Saving webinar on October 20 is the next best thing. → Register here |
Nicky and Dave Schauder are passionate about helping families grow their food, and medicine and find God in the garden. Learn how to build your own permaculture guild. Get our Guild Guide when you sign up!
Hello, Reader, We are beyond grateful that right now on our farm, we're getting the following from our garden so far: 1 lb of beans/day 5 lbs of tomatoes/day cucumbers blackberries raspberries peppers corn small Japanese tiger melons and we're spoiled for herbs on top of it. Pro-tip: Harvest tomatoes at first blush. They tend to produce more that way. I was out weighing today's tomato harvest from our research beds, where we've been comparing compost tea, organic fertilizer, and an untreated...
"If it has lived, it can live again." — Geoff Lawton, permaculturist Hello, Reader, How to Compost Correctly Last Sunday, right after liturgy, Dave and I taught a quick composting workshop for our church's volunteers ahead of our annual Middle Eastern Food Festival. I filmed it and put it on YouTube 👇, in case you'd like to sit in. Composting with Worms... and a Fly That Barely Lives a Week The company that composts our festival's waste, Future Acres Urban Farm, uses Black Soldier Fly larvae....
Hello, Reader, We have honey! The tomatoes are still green but growing really well right now. Yes, there are still things that are getting eaten by deer (like potatoes and every unprotected sunfower and zinnia on our property). But we've got beets coming in so fast we're having a beet salad every other day! This abundance is exactly the "problem" we set out to have when we started growing our own food eleven years ago. Back then, we had a tiny suburban backyard, six kids, a health crisis, and...