Ecology is the study of the home. Economics is the management of it. For farmers, that's not a coincidence—it's an invitation.
On the surface, ecology and economics look like opposites. One deals with soil and living systems; the other, spreadsheets and bottom lines.
But both words share the same Latin root, oikos, meaning "home."
Because the truth most of us don't want to admit: you can't really feel at home on your farm if you're ignoring half of what it actually means to be at home.
Farming for Fun and Profit
Last Saturday I gave a talk to a group of aspiring farmers through the Foundations in Land Stewardship program. I titled it "Farming for Fun and Profit"—partly to disarm what I knew would be a confronting topic, and partly because I meant it. Both things are possible. But it takes extreme honesty and accountability to get there.
We started with the big question: should profit even be a focus for farmers? Three years ago, as a new and idealistic grower, I would have squirmed at this notion. But the class somewhat surprised me. Aside from a few uncomfortable looks, most people agreed—profit isn't a dirty word. It's a necessity.
That was a good start.
Match the Vehicle to the Road
From there we dug into a framework I've developed for figuring out the right farming model for a given person, based on their actual resources—including land, labor, capital, time, and objectives.
My message was simple: your strategy has to match your situation. Trying to run a production-scale wholesale operation on less than a tenth of an acre is like entering a street race in my old beat-up '94 4Runner. It won't end well. You'll burn out the engine, waste a fortune in gas, and still lose the race.
The vehicle has to match the road you're actually on.
Once you know your model, you can build what I call a context-informed strategy—a sales and marketing approach that actually fits your scale, your customer base, and your capacity.
Ruthlessly Focused on Greens
For me, that meant getting ruthlessly focused on salad greens.
Arugula, romaine, mustard, baby kale. Quick to grow, low on labor, and relatively easy to sell. Since the start of this year we've converted the majority of our production to greens. And we've gotten genuinely good at it.
But greens alone don't make a compelling CSA box. So we partner with neighboring farms, sourcing their produce to round out our offerings. Our community gets the variety and quality they've come to expect. We get to stay focused on what we do best. Everyone wins.
This is what scaling beyond your production capacity actually looks like at a tiny farm. You don't grow more. You build more value around what you already grow.
Check out our CSA—local produce, curated weekly, starting as low as $32/box. No subscription required. Place an order for next week's box →
Know Your Numbers
The last part of the workshop covered financial tracking—the habit most farmers avoid. I framed it simply: know your numbers, return to them often, and let them tell you what's working before life and circumstance tells you what isn't.
It's not glamorous. But neither is burning out on a farm you love because you never stopped to ask whether it was working.
Cynthia of Labor-Movement says farmers are athletes in overalls. I'd add: we're entrepreneurs in them too.
The rows in the field matter. So do the rows in the spreadsheet.
You can't tend one and neglect the other and call it home.
At least not for long.