miles in the other direction. And she hoped, eventually, to sell wholesale to local restaurants.
So, one rainy, rather miserable day, Lyle and I headed out to talk to Kelly and see her farm. After driving about 15 miles on sparsely populated country roads, I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere — which proves how easy it is to forget how very somewhere rural stretches of fields with only an occasional farmhouse really are.
Finally we saw the sign for “YKnot Farm.” (If we’d kept driving another 30 more miles or so, we would have found ourselves in Pinehurst, home to the famous Golf Course No. 2.)
As we drove up the driveway, the rain began to pour. All I could pick out was a llama, a few sheds, and a flock of smallish chickens. Up at the end of the driveway was a doublewide and a pickup truck. We dashed through the rain and knocked on the door.
In spite of the weather, we managed a brief farm tour with Kelly and then settled into the utility shed (to avoid the pair of rambunctious dogs in the house) to talk about her hopes and dreams.
She’d hoped to sell all the broilers she had raised, but, after ten weeks of growing, they were still much too small to sell. And they didn’t seem to be getting any bigger. She wasn’t sure if it was the heritage breed she had chosen or her limited skills as a beginning farmer, but next time she intended to choose a breed she knew would produce good-sized broilers in about ten weeks. She just needed $1,500 to try again.
The Sandhills Farm to Table Cooperative in Southern Pines is one of the biggest CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture) in the state. At times, there have been over a thousand members receiving weekly boxes of locally grown food. Often the box is all produce, but sometimes it includes locally grown meat. So the Co-op told Kelly they’d be interested in buying about as many 4–5 pound chickens as she could raise.
Because Kelly and Tim had tapped out their savings preparing the farm to accommodate multi-species livestock and purchase necessary equipment and supplies, she needed to connect with a few friends who would help her buy those broilers. She needed to find people who shared her vision. When she wrote asking about a Slow Money loan, she already had a detailed budget and a list of capital requirements as long as your arm.
A few weeks after that first visit, we drove back down to Southern Pines to meet with several local food enthusiasts at the office of one of the founders of the Sandhills Co-op. Kelly talked about her plans. She hoped to buy 150 chickens, 60 ducks, and the necessary feed and supplies to bring them to market. Several women had come to meet her, hoping to be able to help in some way. They were accustomed to getting chickens in their CSA boxes and liked the idea of knowing how and where those birds had been raised.
They wanted to help. Eaters lending to producers. Now, there’s a good idea!
Before the gathering was over, the group had worked out a way to loan Kelly what she needed to restart her broiler business. The next day, Kelly sent an email to her new-found friends:
Your financial support indicates to me how serious the local community is in supporting small, local businesses and in providing consumers with healthier food choices than what is available through current mainstream options. Knowing I have the backing from people who push the envelope of change in their environment like you makes my resolvestronger in making my sustainable, grass/forage raised meat business more than just a fleeting opportunity.
Perfect. That’s exactly what Slow Money is supposed to be about.
Kelly had learned — through talking to other farmers — that it wasn’t the breed that was her problem, it was her feeding practices. So she stayed with the same breed but upgraded her feeding system to give the birds easier access to their feed. They ate more, and they got bigger.
That season, Kelly raised 500 chickens, 50 ducks, and 36
So, one rainy, rather miserable day, Lyle and I headed out to talk to Kelly and see her farm. After driving about 15 miles on sparsely populated country roads, I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere — which proves how easy it is to forget how very somewhere rural stretches of fields with only an occasional farmhouse really are.
Finally we saw the sign for “YKnot Farm.” (If we’d kept driving another 30 more miles or so, we would have found ourselves in Pinehurst, home to the famous Golf Course No. 2.)
As we drove up the driveway, the rain began to pour. All I could pick out was a llama, a few sheds, and a flock of smallish chickens. Up at the end of the driveway was a doublewide and a pickup truck. We dashed through the rain and knocked on the door.
In spite of the weather, we managed a brief farm tour with Kelly and then settled into the utility shed (to avoid the pair of rambunctious dogs in the house) to talk about her hopes and dreams.
She’d hoped to sell all the broilers she had raised, but, after ten weeks of growing, they were still much too small to sell. And they didn’t seem to be getting any bigger. She wasn’t sure if it was the heritage breed she had chosen or her limited skills as a beginning farmer, but next time she intended to choose a breed she knew would produce good-sized broilers in about ten weeks. She just needed $1,500 to try again.
The Sandhills Farm to Table Cooperative in Southern Pines is one of the biggest CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture) in the state. At times, there have been over a thousand members receiving weekly boxes of locally grown food. Often the box is all produce, but sometimes it includes locally grown meat. So the Co-op told Kelly they’d be interested in buying about as many 4–5 pound chickens as she could raise.
Because Kelly and Tim had tapped out their savings preparing the farm to accommodate multi-species livestock and purchase necessary equipment and supplies, she needed to connect with a few friends who would help her buy those broilers. She needed to find people who shared her vision. When she wrote asking about a Slow Money loan, she already had a detailed budget and a list of capital requirements as long as your arm.
A few weeks after that first visit, we drove back down to Southern Pines to meet with several local food enthusiasts at the office of one of the founders of the Sandhills Co-op. Kelly talked about her plans. She hoped to buy 150 chickens, 60 ducks, and the necessary feed and supplies to bring them to market. Several women had come to meet her, hoping to be able to help in some way. They were accustomed to getting chickens in their CSA boxes and liked the idea of knowing how and where those birds had been raised.
They wanted to help. Eaters lending to producers. Now, there’s a good idea!
Before the gathering was over, the group had worked out a way to loan Kelly what she needed to restart her broiler business. The next day, Kelly sent an email to her new-found friends:
Your financial support indicates to me how serious the local community is in supporting small, local businesses and in providing consumers with healthier food choices than what is available through current mainstream options. Knowing I have the backing from people who push the envelope of change in their environment like you makes my resolvestronger in making my sustainable, grass/forage raised meat business more than just a fleeting opportunity.
Perfect. That’s exactly what Slow Money is supposed to be about.
Kelly had learned — through talking to other farmers — that it wasn’t the breed that was her problem, it was her feeding practices. So she stayed with the same breed but upgraded her feeding system to give the birds easier access to their feed. They ate more, and they got bigger.
That season, Kelly raised 500 chickens, 50 ducks, and 36
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