Budgeting, Part 2 (Day 5)

1/4 of what is under the surface

    While it may prove impossible to hold to, a $500 budget for this farming endeavor is easy to settle on (see earlier post). I want to be able to do this without machinery (aside from our Ford Transit van for transporting produce off-farm and supplies back). I'm used to making do with what's on hand, especially after 5 years farming for a non-profit. Above all, as I mentioned earlier, working from a tiny budget not only scares skinflint-me less; it also prompts a lot of creative problem-solving, which is fun and deeply satisfying. In fact, it often makes me feel richer than I am when I understand how much of my "economy" is actually things with no price tag: support, advice, inventiveness.
       Budgeting my time is a different matter. If I'm not good at spending money or taking risks, I'm also not good at taking on only what can be reasonably accomplished. Friends and family know this. I blame it on my January birthday; I don't study astrology, but every Capricorn I've ever known is the same: we think that if we can conceive of doing something, we are obligated to go ahead and execute it. Capricorns invented "multitasking."
    This recognized, how do I budget the time, energy, confidence, and sheer hours of labor it will require to start a home business? Not just any home business, but one which, being seasonally dependent, comes with a pre-set timetable for setting up "shop" (growing , processing and office spaces), for stocking "inventory" (plants!), acquiring permitting (insurance...grumble), applying for venue opportunities and advertising. It all has to happen. Plus, meals must be made, appointments kept, family members nurtured, Farm Dog walked, etc. Sleep is also a good idea.
    Right away, it's obvious that I will have to give myself a time budget if I'm not going to drive myself, the Patient Spouse and other family members crazy.
     In the herculean task of starting up, I've decided on the following. Every day, I will set myself to do five things which forward the endeavor of establishing the farm. (At first, I thought I'd buy myself a white board and write them out. Then I remembered I had a big poster frame with a masonite back and missing glass, and a can of chalkboard paint in the basement. Voila: free task chalkboard—and, in making it, one task accomplished!)  All jobs go on a to-do list, which lets me keep them from racing through my mind. The to-do list has two columns: jobs for good weather, and jobs for foul weather/evenings.

1/2 empty ground

     Of course, there are many projects that just can't be finished in one day, like the garden-making. Here, I set myself to dig one quarter of the space a day. Roots, buried wood and tree chunks go on a big pile along the side I will expand into in later years (I hope!). Rocks go in another pile out of the way at the back of the garden along the property line. I haven't measured out the space, but it looks like a manageable amount to get ready for cultivating at this point, 10 weeks out from the last frost date. It is great luck to have the frost out of the ground and the weather warm and dry this first week of digging in.
    As my daughters would say, "So... How's that workin' out for you, Mom?"
    8 hours a day is about all the digging I can muster. The gorgeous photo at the top of this entry shows the roots removed by the end of day 1 of Big Dig 2.0. For scale reference, that pile is 3' high and about 5'wide X 5' long. Bottom pic shows day 2, looking south, with remnants of the latest burn pile and my trusty wheelbarrow. It's working out. Budgeting my ambition is a huge help. But that space... how big is it? It's looking kind of small for a farm—even a pocket farm. Hmm...
Bloom where you are planted.