This year OTFUF is celebrating 13 years in production. I’ve seen a lot of projects like ours come and go in that time. It’s hard to keep going when it takes a ton of time and there isn’t a pot of gold at the end of day. But I’m lucky; this endeavor was never about making money for me. I do enjoy raising funds to cover the costs we incur, but nobody’s getting rich over here in anything but vitamins, exercise, and friendship.

And still, a lot has changed since we got going on this adventure in placemaking – in my life, in our country, in our climate. Some days it’s hard to focus on anything, hard to moving forward. But that’s also the beauty of this work – there’s always something tangible on the farm that needs tending to. There’s always more I could be doing. And I’m a helper; so I go out (or down to the basement depending on the season) and I try to help my plant babies thrive. Sometimes I’m alone and sometimes I have companions – old and new, young and old – by my side.

In late December I planted a ton of seeds under the grow lights – lettuces, kales, cabbages, and collards. It was a bit early but I needed something to cut through my winter recess boredom, through my despair over the decline of our democracy, and my inability to change cultural trends impacting everyone on the planet.

I’ve watched the winters get warmer over the past few seasons and I knew my hearty greens could make it through with a little help. By late February, they were in the ground under cover, settling in and getting a little bigger every week. The new flock of hens started laying and we were back in business.

Despite my great planning for the plants, I didn’t have energy or make time to plan for the people. I didn’t sell any CSA shares and I’m not hosting a plant sale. I didn’t try to recruit Scouts for visits or market summer camp programs. I’ve been building community for another organization and I just didn’t have any gas left in the tank to do that for the farm.

But since our inception that’s been a key part of our mission – to help people see what’s possible in a (sub)urban back yard in Columbus, OH, to taste fresh local vegetables, to help make something out of nothing. To see what we can do when we work together. So I have more work to do because we need those lessons now more than ever.

For many years I posted in this space on a regular basis. I shared updates on social media. My daughter and I broadcast live programs for kids during the Covid-19 pandemic. Now I am trying to avoid social media for personal and political reasons. And I’m too tired to write, though I still love to. So I’m looking for new ways to show that we’re still here, and welcoming people to come visit. I’ve connected with new neighbors and I’m reaching back out to folks who engaged with the farm in the past to invite them to come back and see how we are thriving despite the odds.

A facilitator in a recent training asked participants for some “sign of life” that we were still paying attention. This is mine. I’m still here. I’m still growing. I’d love a sign that you’re still out there too.