Let’s hope that the year has not started as it means to continue! The Jet stream is lying to the south of the UK as it did in 2012, bringing that rather memorable deluge. The rain is beginning to influence our preparations for the coming season and I’m slightly concerned that the 100 tonnes of compost I have just bought contains about 5 tons more water than it should. It’s an expensive way to have water delivered to the farm.
We at Plowright Organic, rather belatedly, would like to wish all of you a happy New Year. By now you may have abandoned your resolutions or perhaps like me, will have modified them into more relaxed, achievable goals. One beer a night is Ok isn't it?
Already, a lot has changed this year on the farm. Dan has joined us to pack and deliver vegboxes, which gives me more time to do some vegetable growing (with a bit of luck). He is also manning the market stall in Minehead. With slightly more frightening consequences we have taken on the services of an ethical food marketing company. This is to do something that we have never been very good at, i.e. to tell people that we are here. So, you may start to see a few changes as we try to develop our ‘brand identity’. I thought that was a film starring Matt Damon. If it’s not working you won’t notice anything different at all.
We are once again offering eggs with our vegboxes. The eggs are from Rob and Lizzie Walrond at Glebe Farm in Pitney. They keep Lohmann Brown chickens in flocks of just 90 birds. The breed has a healthy ranging habit and are very comfortable and unstressed at these low stocking densities. They really are very good eggs.
Some of you will recall that over the years I often quoted an old farming friend of mine, Frank Ridout who farmed at Huntstile, in Goathurst. Well, he passed away in early January at 94 years of age and I wanted to thank him and acknowledge his encouragement in setting up our business 14 years ago. Frank and I talked of nothing other than vegetable growing and our bond was borne out of a shared experience of making a living off the land. Frank was a mine of knowledge, much of which he would encapsulate in short anecdotes. For instance, he warned “cauliflower, tis a gambler’s crop” after losing acres of them in a persistent freeze decades ago. I can’t plant cauliflower these days without hearing his words in my head.