Like life itself, time sometimes gets away from us and before we know it, years have passed. I realized today that I have failed to tell the story of how April Farms came into existence.
Since I was a young girl, I always wanted to own a farm. I think it was the romantic fantasy of owning land, raising animals, and growing your own food. I grew up in Southern California, which didn’t offer much in the way of affordable farmland.
Certainly not a young girl anymore, I came to own this beautiful property in 2016, the year after I qualified for a “senior discount” at many restaurants. Three of my four children were already living in Oregon, and watching daily for the “perfect property” to make my dream come true. My two oldest daughters scanned the RMLS, worked with a realtor, and visited properties on my behalf. The day this property came on the market, it already had five offers before I even got a chance to look at the pictures. My oldest daughter drove out to the property and declared it “perfect”. It was everything I ever wanted: fruit orchards, pastures for animals, and open space for a future lavender field. The problem was there were several people offering so much more than I could afford.
Not giving up, my daughters and I decided to write letters to the current owner. My realtor scoffed. “No one does that”, she said. I figured it couldn’t hurt, as I was already out-bid and really had no hope of having my offer accepted. So, we wrote letters, sharing the dream of what the future plan was for the property. I don’t know all the details of the exchange, or what went through the owner’s mind, but my offer was accepted and within a short time, I was the new owner of a 7-acre farm.
I always thought it was a quaint idea for farms to have names. It was like giving them an identity of their own. I knew right away I would call it April Farms. The name comes from a precious little dog I had lost too soon to a bizarre illness. Sweet April was so special to me, and she was my little buddy for seven years. Her memory lives on through the name April Farms.
The first year was a lot of getting to know the place, and getting the farm cleaned up. I remodeled the “addition”, and made it my own little house. My oldest daughter and her family lived in the main house. All the trees were in need of severe pruning and shaping. Fences needed mending. Blackberry brambles had taken over. The whole family pitched in, and after the second year, the place started to shape up.
At the end of year two, April Farms became a lavender farm. Learning to drive a tractor, bringing in 20+ loads of dirt, tilling the field, making raised rows, acquiring weed-mat (that’s a story all on its own), measuring & laying the weed mat, and stapling it all in place was a huge learning experience. I’m so thankful I had my daughter’s help. There’s no way I could have gotten that field ready without her. Now came the fun part: choosing the lavender varieties I wanted to grow and buying the plants. According to our measurements, I needed 800+ plants to fill that space. So on the 3-day Memorial Day weekend, I planted 825 plants, and the first lavender field at April Farms was born.
Amazing things here. I am very glad to peer your article. Querida Pierson Iz
I love your story. I have a similar dream, my mother kept an organic garden when I was a child and I keep wanting to go back to that. It doesn’t have to be 7 acres but I do want a place to grow flowers and food, do art and enjoy life together. I’m so happy to see someone doing that already. I don’t have the support of family, as my mother is older and I am probably the age you were in 2016. Right now I feel like is the timing for powerful change, I recently received a 90-day notice from my current landlord who just bought the place I live in. So my son, our dog and I must pack up and find something new. I hope it can be my forever homestead, thank you for the inspiration!