Sunglasses and Snowboots

February 12, 2026

Wowee, how ‘bout this winter? Good thing we don’t have any major projects planned. Building a chicken coop or installing a deer fence would be pretty tough in these conditions. Garlic mulching, on the other hand, proceeded until it didn't. We started in January, after the first snowfall. Applying brown mulch over the blinding white landscape felt like working upside-down. Instead of snow burying the earth, earth buried the snow. A big thank you to our volunteer crew, Glenn, Rich, Jeff, and Bryan, for keeping their footing and the wheelbarrows moving in such treacherous conditions. We completed two-thirds of the job before running out of leaves. Then the blizzard hit, and there was no mulching after that. Now we’re stuck waiting for a thaw. My crystal ball tells me the end of this job, whenever it happens, will be muddy.

 

Meanwhile, I’ve been working my way through the winter office tasks—the budget, the field map, the seeding schedule, and the seed order. Not all businesses prepare an annual budget, but I got into the habit early on because I wanted to measure our actual progress against our original projections. The job doesn’t take much time, which is why I’ve stuck with it through the years. I start on the revenue side, then switch to the expense side, and if the two don’t align (they usually don’t at first), I adjust until they do. The final budget isn’t intended to pin us down, but rather to provide realistic sales and spending targets. It also provides a basis for making well-informed pivots when curveballs emerge, as they always do.

 

After the budget comes the field map—how many beds of tomatoes does it take to generate x in sales, and where will we locate those beds? Each field is different, and as we rotate our crops to break up pest and disease cycles, we must account for these differences. Ideally, crops don’t get split up into different fields, but that’s not always possible, depending on the year. In that regard, drafting the field map is like playing Tetris—when everything fits, it’s a beautiful thing.

 

Next up is the seeding schedule—when will we start the seeds that will populate the field map? In a matter of days, I plot out a season’s worth of seeding, from kale in February, to winter squash in May, to arugula in September. It’s a season simulation in hyperdrive, and by the end, I’m practically sweating. I also have an exact seed count for the hundreds of varieties needed to meet our sales targets. Armed with these numbers, I’m ready to draft the seed order.

 

The budget, field map, and seeding schedule provide a framework for the season, a week-by-week roadmap from January to December. It’s a ton of planning that doesn’t happen on its own, and it’s no less important than seeding, cultivation, or harvest. People often assume winter is when farmers catch up on sleep (yes to that!) and float new ideas, but ideas should undergo a period of fermentation before they get the go-ahead. Winter, meanwhile, is when the rubber hits the road—when ideas become plans. That’s why I believe summer is the season for new ideas. The monotony of the weed-harvest cycle is the perfect time to let your mind wander and see where it leads—as long as there’s a solid winter plan steering the ship.

 

Seeding starts in two weeks. Hard to believe with all this snow, but that’s what the calendar says. We start with the heirloom kale, which is slower to germinate than the hybrids. By giving the heirlooms a one-week lead, we’re able to transplant all the kale together. After the kale comes the beets and onions, then the peppers and peas, then the tomatoes and eggplant. By early April, the Amityville greenhouses are full; by mid-April, we’re back to planting in the fields. This year my kids’ spring break falls before the first planting, and that's lucky for us because Ada and I will be taking a road trip to visit colleges upstate. Yup, that went by fast. Once minute she’s a baby squawking at CSA pickup, the next minute she’s packing her bags. I’m not bawling yet (she’s still a junior) but get ready…I’ve watched enough CSA parents go through this to know what I’m in for.

 

Unrelated to heirloom kale and squawking babies is a call for submissions. Are you an artist? Do you know any artists? The Tin House art show is an exhibition of the artists in the Restoration Farm community. Artwork is displayed in the Tin House from May through December, and all ages are welcome. This year's theme is roots. Submission details are available here.

 

CSA shares went on sale last month, and they sold out almost immediately. With most of our 2025 members returning, there were very few openings. For those who missed out, the farm stand is, as always, open to everyone. In fact, the next farm stand is Saturday, February 21, and will feature winter squash, carrots, potatoes, beets, garlic, and cabbage, as well as seeds for the home gardener. And our next winter walk is Sunday, February 22. There’s a good chance the landscape will still be white by then, but bring your sunglasses and your snowboots. We’ll be there, and we hope you will, too.

 

Thanks for reading,

Caroline