 Here I was with a single, small backpack in tow, my JFAO badge on the back and my Farmers Feed Cities pin attached to the side. I was travelling in style, but with very little possessions, as I am Dutch and thrifty, so paying for checked baggage was not an option. I prayed for warm weather so my 10 light outfits would suffice. They did! While on the phone to another PEI Young Farmer, my first host says “She must not wear any underwear or have any shoes with her, but yes she is here with a bag and a smile!” I laughed uncontrollably. Of course, not thinking, one of the pairs of sandals I brought were extremely white...now they are red from the distinctive PEI dirt. Light conversation doesn’t come easy to me and I can be quite nervous and awkward in new situations, so although shy and quiet at times, I endured and was able to learn so much about this little island and its various farming commodities. Dairy is not a prominent sector in PEI due to the costs associated with being on an island, but it seemed that many other farmers had a large mix of cash crop, chickens and beef cattle. Yes, there were many potato farmers and many types of potatoes and equipment to boot. Also, the numerous storage sheds that were constructed for produce and equipment were exceptional. I asked questions and other times said nothing at all, both important concepts when learning about something new! Some of my greatest experiences were quite effortless and unexpected. Being able to sample fine, local foods in the kitchen of The Inn at Bay Fortune, where Chef Michael Smith is the owner, was a unique occurrence. I was able to help harvest the gardens and bring the produce to the kitchen for the chefs and hands to prep for the meals to follow. This same couple, that manages the gardens at the Inn, have their own farm in central PEI and I spent some time with their daughter Olivia, setting up the road side stand. She was sweet and we (literally) frolicked through the long grass as we waited for customers. It reminded me how one’s own imagination is enough sometimes and we could have fun outside with nothing but ourselves! She picked flowers and put them in my hair and I felt slightly like Anne of Green Gables when she ventured through their fields in Avonlea. Oh to be ten years old again... I spent an evening at the beginning of my journey, harvesting Wild and Highbush blueberries and putting them in pints to sell. It was quite relaxing and I was all smiles until I realized my neck was gushing with blood. Black flies in PEI must be different than black flies in Ontario and I learned the hard way. Of course they went for fresh blood and the end result was not pretty...a genocide on my neck. I figured I was just systematically killing regular old mosquitoes and I would wash off the evidence later, but my neck and chest were left with huge, red, swollen blobs, which left me looking like I had a bad case of chicken pox. Furthermore, I was not very excited to meet new people looking like a diseased tourist from Ontario. The result of the bloodsucking black flies was my least favourite part, but on the bright side, it could have been worse! There were moments from different days I liked equally: like swimming in the sea salt at Bay Fortune, the eastern part of PEI and washing the hot day away; lobster dinner and ice cream on my last day with Jeremy and his children; having incredible home-cooked meals with Chiel and Anne Marie and walking through their fields taking pictures; going out on a crazy New Zealander’s fishing boat one afternoon on a perfect day; attending the Old Home Week Parade and sitting on the sidelines cheering as the floats went by boasting maritime pride; and having a barbecue, fresh mussels, beverages and a bonfire with some of the PEI Young Farmers, most of whom I had met previously through Junior Farmers, at the Canadian Young Farmers’ Forums over the years from coast to coast. However, I believe my favourite day was spent with Pat, when we took the Northumberland Bay Ferries across to Nova Scotia. The purpose of taking the ferry was not an exciting one at all...Pat needed loads of gravel from a quarry in Nova Scotia and a couple trips to a fro did the trick. It is not every day I sit in an 18 wheeler and venture across water to another province. There is lots of time to waste when waiting to load the vehicles and for the ferry to go and come back, so it was nice to walk around, chat and sit looking out at the beautiful scenery. I enjoyed the evening back at his shop/farm, where he spread the gravel, unloaded harvested wheat in the grain bin and finished up other odds and ends jobs before we headed home to make a late dinner. I was helpful with dinner...but at the shop, not so much. It is influential and somewhat intriguing to see other successful young farmers and Pat is extremely successful in his agricultural business adventures and management skills, so I must say I was a little in awe. My flight home was bittersweet. I wondered most of my way home if the Islanders know how lucky they are. They seemed to live everyday on their own schedule. They all work hard, but appear to enjoy what they do more than we do over here in Ontario. I noticed a slower pace, but not in a lazy manner, just in a less westernized go go go way. The island and people are so beautiful inside and out and this simple aesthetic is something I strive for everyday at home, but at home it goes unnoticed because societies built up around large cities have become very materialistic. I don’t mean to criticize Ontario, but rather wish that like PEI, we could take a step back from our technology crazed, fast-paced world and stop to smell the roses (or the Lady’s Slipper Orchid, as PEI would have it). Numerous farmers I met have moved from other countries or are in their “twenty somethings” or early thirties. They own or manage large amounts of property and are building upon successful agricultural practices. It’s not that they’ve done anything remarkable, really. It’s just that a lot of young farmers I have met have done something remarkable for their age. There is a significant distinction there, but an important one. They definitely have goals and ambition and the power of motivation is much more alive when you are young. I observed a lot while in PEI and it seems like the superior elders really like ambitious young people. There is something truly rewarding about helping an ambitious young person achieve their goals. I think a lot of it has to do with “I see myself in their shoes...” or “If only I had started back then!” Many of them, I learned and listened, have had help from parents and elders just like myself. Whatever the reason, it is fascinating and powerful. Those PEI Young Farmers I spent time with have built relationships with the older investors and farmers who have come before us and graduated from the “school of hard knocks.” Their failures and successes can and have helped us with our own. I want to do something remarkable at my age. Buying property in PEI is very tempting and a great asset due to the lower land prices and tourism four-six months of the year. I want to be an Islander or a “come-from-away” person as they would call it, but if I can’t I want to at least invest in property at one of the best places I have ever been to! Being there reminds me of how simple and beautiful life can be – if we choose to see it that way.
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   I was certain we wouldn’t sell any of these damn birds and I let Allan know my thoughts. People want beef and pork and eggs, but I told him “no one will be willing to pay $3.50/lb and we will only lose money and precious time!” They take a lot of work to care for them properly and to feed them well and (most) people do not appreciate that when they can just go to a grocery store and get a pre-seasoned rotisserie bird ready for cookin’ and often pre-cooked whole birds right ready for the dinner plate!
Regardless of my thoughts, we proceeded with purchasing our day old chicks and began raising them by pumping steroids into them on a daily basis (just kidding!). A grain mash, grass, bugs and water did the trick and they grew from “cute, little fuzzy” chicks to “not so cute anymore” meat birds, which is all part of the process. As a child on my parents farm I remember having meat birds and playing with the chicks regularly, until they were no longer “cute.” A featherless piece of skin is just not as fun! I advertised our birds at the school I was working at in the spring. I thought I might catch someone’s eye by posting a photo of a rotisserie chicken model, posing for the camera. No luck. Only one lady was slightly interested and she preferred the chicken alive for religious purposes. I said no and came home to tell Allan how my advertising idea did not work as well at this school as planned...must be the demographics. Allan on the other hand had neglected to tell me he had already taken orders for half the birds, most of the customers simply from his work. Here I am modelling chickens and bartering teachers and Allan already had a growing list! Word of mouth really got around (to the right crowd I guess) and within days all of our birds were sold and even more were requested. We tried to save three four ourselves, but Allan’s math skills are not great (which is something I expect from myself, not him) so he oversold a few. Also, a couple local people have attained my cell phone number and have asked for some birds. Fortunately (...or unfortunately?), we were able to give them a taste by handing out one or two of our birds (less for us), but added them to the order list for next year’s flock. At this point I believe we only had one bird left for us, so I decided to taste our own chicken (something I should have done before advertising its juicy qualities!). I put a roast in, seasoned with salt, sauces and spices and surrounded by my neighbours zucchini and carrots and beans from our garden. I was SO proud of my homegrown meal and called up some friends to come for dinner on the deck. Of course it was very last minute that only one couple was able to come... I was all prepared and set the table on the deck and then the first drop fell. Lightning and thunder truck, a tree fell on the fence, the chicken stopped cooking, flowers pots smashed to the ground, my patio furniture and table setting flew away, and the barn door blew off. Immediately when I witnessed this turn of events occurring I ran to the barn, brought in all the horses, locked up the laying hens, screamed at Allan to get out of the shower, then ran to my parents farm and proceeded to bring their horses in (they were conveniently at the cottage). We regrettably messaged our friends and cancelled dinner, thinking the bird would not be cooked and that we would have a huge mess to clean up after the storm. I had been praying for a good rain because I was exhausted from watering my gardens, but I did not ask for it to happen the night of my prized chicken dinner. To no avail, we ate our delicious chicken dinner at 9:00 p.m., together with the dogs, soaking wet from all our running around, in front of the television, with no friends present except our furry ones. Subsequently, just as we took our first bites the sun came out over the deck. I immediately mourned to Allan over cancelling our last minute dinner plans because I have to admit this was the best meal I had ever cooked and it is all thanks to the chicken. I am hoping to have a repeat of this chicken dinner, minus the storm, flying furniture, power outages and wet patio cushions. Chicken dinner on the deck anyone (only if there is one more bird left for us)?  I see it every morning when I walk down my bedroom stairs: “Bigger and Better Than Ever.” The sign on my wall portrays the good old days of the Sutton Fair & Horse Show two day event. It was definitely not “bigger” than it is today, but it may have been “better.” That I will never know, as I did not live in those days, when the Cannington Silver Cornet Band played, a High Class Concert took place at the Town Hall and the horse racing relished in its prime, with big cash prizes and “Must be driven by a boy” advertisements. My dad bought me this vintage (reproduction) sign when it was the 150th anniversary of the Sutton Agricultural Society ten years ago. I marvel at it all the time and wish the real one was in my house – a much larger version of the poster from September 29 & 30th 1910.
The secretary at that time was Howard Morton. Since this period many secretary/treasurers have passed through those doors and I wonder how much the office routine has changed since decades before my time. I am certain QuickBooks was not on the market and laptops were not used to take meeting minutes! The telephone was a hot commodity in 1910, something I take for granted in the office, but sometimes wish it was never invented when messages start piling up around fair time! Times have undoubtedly changed over the years: agriculture has changed; entertainment has changed; technology has significantly changed; and the cost to run an event such as this has undeniably changed. Gone are the days of $0.25 admission for adults and $0.15 admission for children. Furthermore, agriculture is not valued by the public to the same degree that it once was. Curiosity is still present, but the lifestyle has dwindled, therefore the knowledge and interest has too. I am glad that our fair continues to promote agriculture to a high degree, through demonstrations and displays to engage and educate youth. A lot has changed over nearly two centuries, but the joy of being part of such a tremendous four day event is still there – unchanged. It’s not every day you see politicians with clowns and farmers mingling with city dwellers, but at the Sutton Fair & Horse Show, you do! When all is said and done and the rain has fallen or the sun has shone...volunteers have packed up and fair goers have gone home, we can once again pat ourselves on the back for another year that has come and gone successfully. |
AuthorMy name is Claire and I love to write about the farming lifestyle and share ideas, memories and funny farm stories! Archives
December 2018
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