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Small Farm in Maine
The author shares her insights on working a small farm, gained during fifteen years of work in which she and her husband turned their Maine farm into a self-sustaining enterprise, after they had both given up urban careers for a simple lifestyle
211 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1988
3 people are currently reading
66 people want to read
About the author
Terry Silber
3 books1 followerTerry Silber was born on June 12, 1940 in Lewiston, Maine and lived for many years on Hedgehog Hill Farm in Sumner, Maine.
A graduate of the University of New Hampshire, Silber worked as art director for The Atlantic Monthly magazine during the 1970s, leaving that position and city life to live full-time in Sumner in 1978.
She wrote about her experience at Hedgehog Hill Farm in A Small Farm In Maine (1988/1992) and collaborated on two other books with her husband Mark, a medical anthropologist and documentary photographer, Growing Herbs and Vegetables from Seed to Harvest (1999) and The Complete Book of Everlastings: Growing, Drying, and Designing with Dried Flowers (1988/1992).
Terry Silber died on July 6, 2003 and her obituary appeared in the Boston Globe. The autumn 1998 issue of People, Places and Plants contains a feature article on the Silbers.
A graduate of the University of New Hampshire, Silber worked as art director for The Atlantic Monthly magazine during the 1970s, leaving that position and city life to live full-time in Sumner in 1978.
She wrote about her experience at Hedgehog Hill Farm in A Small Farm In Maine (1988/1992) and collaborated on two other books with her husband Mark, a medical anthropologist and documentary photographer, Growing Herbs and Vegetables from Seed to Harvest (1999) and The Complete Book of Everlastings: Growing, Drying, and Designing with Dried Flowers (1988/1992).
Terry Silber died on July 6, 2003 and her obituary appeared in the Boston Globe. The autumn 1998 issue of People, Places and Plants contains a feature article on the Silbers.
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Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews
May 29, 2017
I really enjoyed this story about the author and her husband turning a plot of land in Maine into a home and business.
You can learn a lot through their experiences. A small garden for weekend retreats, becomes a business. There are people to hire, production quotas to be made, and hard decisions to make. What do you produce? When do you cut your losses? It's all here. Maybe not a complete answer, but enough to give one pause and consider their own situations.
You can learn a lot through their experiences. A small garden for weekend retreats, becomes a business. There are people to hire, production quotas to be made, and hard decisions to make. What do you produce? When do you cut your losses? It's all here. Maybe not a complete answer, but enough to give one pause and consider their own situations.
January 5, 2014
I really enjoyed this small volume and give it four stars. I chose to read it for my memoir class in September, but lingered over it. Now, when I could no longer renew it, I was finally motivated to stop savoring it so slowly and get on with finishing it. It was especially lovely to read a memoir that was all about positive growth. The challenges recorded here are about this couple’s learning curve in a new venture they knew nothing about, which I found both interesting and upbeat.
This is a very personal account of how a couple moved from a professional life in Boston –where she was the art director for Atlantic magazine and he was getting his PhD in Anthropology– to a self-sustaining life in the country. That trajectory is detailed in this book, which chronicles how you can learn what you want to on the spot, and with hard work, together with research, introspection, and common sense, it can pay off with a lifestyle you enjoy.
Here are some bits from the book to give you and taste of its flavor:
• “You planted, cultivated, and then harvested and packed a truck as full as possible with as great a variety of produce as you could manage. Then you got in your truck at first light and headed out carefully over bumpy country roads, trying to avoid the roughest spots so you could get your produce safely to the market. Assuming you didn’t have a flat tire, a broken heater hose, or goods blowing out the back of the vehicle, you arrived at the market in time to unload hundreds and hundreds of pounds of merchandise as quickly as possible. Then you tried to arrange everything into an appealing display while the inevitable handful of before-opening-hour shoppers were rifling through your best produce, handling it in ways that would have got your field hands fired. They were also peppering you with questions about the price of each and every item, long before you had a chance to make the decisions, let alone letter the price cards that had to be affixed to each of the containers on the display table. Then you had to set up the scales, which had not yet been inspected by the city inspector, who was, as it happened, rounding the corner at this very moment, with his briefcase of standard weights and seals in hand. The cash box, which you thought your partner had put in the front seat of the truck, had been left at the farm, so you rummaged around through your jacket and pants pockets to pull together enough change to get you through your first couple sales. Your first customer inevitably handed you a twenty, and you had to rush to the farmer next to you and beg some change so you could finish the sale...”
• “Our farming was rooted in our early pleasures of discovery and learning, and too the degree we continue to evaluate it in those terms and try to make its goals mesh with some economic realities, we are successful.”
• “Home growers will probably have the best luck with starting their own plants over heat mats and in cold frames, if they can curb their impulse to seed too early in the spring; the most common error I hear about from home growers is that they simply cannot wait to plant something so they inevitably end up with leggy, malnourished seedlings... A seed, once germinated, struggles to grow steadily into plant, flower, and fruit in an attempt to produce another seed and thus insure its survival. Every effort that can be made to assist that process and to guarantee smooth continuous growth will result in the healthiest and most vigorous individuals.”
• “The idea to buy our son a horse was so quickly agreed on that we had only a month in which to build a temporary shelter before the horse arrived. We bluffed Jacob into thinking that we were building a tool shed in the field behind the house, and he grudgingly agreed to help us, all the time wondering why we needed yet another outbuilding and wishing he didn’t have to help in the construction. On his birthday, a car and a horse van drove down our road, and we sent Jacob out to ‘see if it was a customer for the shop.’ The passenger in the car, rehearsed earlier by us, asked whether he was Jacob Silber, and when he replied that he was, she said, ‘Good, we’ve got something here for you.’ She and the driver got out of the car, opened the door of the van, walked Redigo out, and handed the lead rope to our son. This was one of the moments we will remember and talk about for the rest of our lives. Jacob was stunned, disbelieving, thrilled, and a little intimidated when the former owner and her friend left. Here we were with about nine-hundred pounds of young, excited, frightened horseflesh. Furthermore, we had not yet had time to finish the shelter, so one of us –Mark of course – had to climb on Redigo’s back (without the benefit of a saddle) and ride him about six miles to a neighbor’s farm where we could board him for the three days and nights it took us to finish our carpentry.”
• “This is the beginning of another adventure. With time, reading, and observing, I will gain a kind of literacy that I don’t now have.”
• “When I am troubled, I usually walk to the far stone wall, turning over the details of a mood, conscious that my walk is tense and aware of the impact of my feet as they hit the earth. When I reach the wall, by habit I head for a particular spot where the stones form a series of natural benches for sitting. My eyes are usually still focused on the minutiae of the land immediately before me. The process of working out my thoughts and tensions is accompanied by an increase in the distance of my gazing... When I retrace my steps to the house, my gaze invariably wanders from the ground at my feet to the larger landscape, and I am less aware of the impact of my feet on the ground. I don’t need to understand the mechanisms at work. I do need to know that the land will always release me from a claustrophobic vision.”
• “The country air of late summer evenings carries the most intoxicating aromas. There are some nights when the basils and salvias are so fragrant that we can detect them from hundreds of yards away. I walk through the gardens nearly every evening in mid to late summer, hours after the workday has formally finished but usually minutes before the last daylight. My footsteps release the dry, sweet smell of the hay mulch, and as I brush against different plants, I often do not need to see where I am to know what is next to me: dill, fennel, basil, mint, salvia, marigold, tomato, yarrow, artemisia, mustard, lavender, scented geranium... The mosses, having been heated by the day’s sunlight, give off a slight fragrance that is both sweet and dank – almost a metallic smell. If I step over the wall into the pine forest, particularly after several days of rain, the mushrooms have sprouted, and the smell always takes me back to my girlhood days at Girl Scout camp...”
• “The legacy I want to pass on to Jacob is one of fascination with the natural world.”
This book can be plodding in places, but I found it to be a worthwhile gem nonetheless. I was sad to note online that Hedgehog Hill Farm –after being named in 2005 as one of the 5 top destinations in New England by Yankee magazine– closed in August 2006. After reading this book, which was published in 1988, I had hoped to be able to visit.
This is a very personal account of how a couple moved from a professional life in Boston –where she was the art director for Atlantic magazine and he was getting his PhD in Anthropology– to a self-sustaining life in the country. That trajectory is detailed in this book, which chronicles how you can learn what you want to on the spot, and with hard work, together with research, introspection, and common sense, it can pay off with a lifestyle you enjoy.
Here are some bits from the book to give you and taste of its flavor:
• “You planted, cultivated, and then harvested and packed a truck as full as possible with as great a variety of produce as you could manage. Then you got in your truck at first light and headed out carefully over bumpy country roads, trying to avoid the roughest spots so you could get your produce safely to the market. Assuming you didn’t have a flat tire, a broken heater hose, or goods blowing out the back of the vehicle, you arrived at the market in time to unload hundreds and hundreds of pounds of merchandise as quickly as possible. Then you tried to arrange everything into an appealing display while the inevitable handful of before-opening-hour shoppers were rifling through your best produce, handling it in ways that would have got your field hands fired. They were also peppering you with questions about the price of each and every item, long before you had a chance to make the decisions, let alone letter the price cards that had to be affixed to each of the containers on the display table. Then you had to set up the scales, which had not yet been inspected by the city inspector, who was, as it happened, rounding the corner at this very moment, with his briefcase of standard weights and seals in hand. The cash box, which you thought your partner had put in the front seat of the truck, had been left at the farm, so you rummaged around through your jacket and pants pockets to pull together enough change to get you through your first couple sales. Your first customer inevitably handed you a twenty, and you had to rush to the farmer next to you and beg some change so you could finish the sale...”
• “Our farming was rooted in our early pleasures of discovery and learning, and too the degree we continue to evaluate it in those terms and try to make its goals mesh with some economic realities, we are successful.”
• “Home growers will probably have the best luck with starting their own plants over heat mats and in cold frames, if they can curb their impulse to seed too early in the spring; the most common error I hear about from home growers is that they simply cannot wait to plant something so they inevitably end up with leggy, malnourished seedlings... A seed, once germinated, struggles to grow steadily into plant, flower, and fruit in an attempt to produce another seed and thus insure its survival. Every effort that can be made to assist that process and to guarantee smooth continuous growth will result in the healthiest and most vigorous individuals.”
• “The idea to buy our son a horse was so quickly agreed on that we had only a month in which to build a temporary shelter before the horse arrived. We bluffed Jacob into thinking that we were building a tool shed in the field behind the house, and he grudgingly agreed to help us, all the time wondering why we needed yet another outbuilding and wishing he didn’t have to help in the construction. On his birthday, a car and a horse van drove down our road, and we sent Jacob out to ‘see if it was a customer for the shop.’ The passenger in the car, rehearsed earlier by us, asked whether he was Jacob Silber, and when he replied that he was, she said, ‘Good, we’ve got something here for you.’ She and the driver got out of the car, opened the door of the van, walked Redigo out, and handed the lead rope to our son. This was one of the moments we will remember and talk about for the rest of our lives. Jacob was stunned, disbelieving, thrilled, and a little intimidated when the former owner and her friend left. Here we were with about nine-hundred pounds of young, excited, frightened horseflesh. Furthermore, we had not yet had time to finish the shelter, so one of us –Mark of course – had to climb on Redigo’s back (without the benefit of a saddle) and ride him about six miles to a neighbor’s farm where we could board him for the three days and nights it took us to finish our carpentry.”
• “This is the beginning of another adventure. With time, reading, and observing, I will gain a kind of literacy that I don’t now have.”
• “When I am troubled, I usually walk to the far stone wall, turning over the details of a mood, conscious that my walk is tense and aware of the impact of my feet as they hit the earth. When I reach the wall, by habit I head for a particular spot where the stones form a series of natural benches for sitting. My eyes are usually still focused on the minutiae of the land immediately before me. The process of working out my thoughts and tensions is accompanied by an increase in the distance of my gazing... When I retrace my steps to the house, my gaze invariably wanders from the ground at my feet to the larger landscape, and I am less aware of the impact of my feet on the ground. I don’t need to understand the mechanisms at work. I do need to know that the land will always release me from a claustrophobic vision.”
• “The country air of late summer evenings carries the most intoxicating aromas. There are some nights when the basils and salvias are so fragrant that we can detect them from hundreds of yards away. I walk through the gardens nearly every evening in mid to late summer, hours after the workday has formally finished but usually minutes before the last daylight. My footsteps release the dry, sweet smell of the hay mulch, and as I brush against different plants, I often do not need to see where I am to know what is next to me: dill, fennel, basil, mint, salvia, marigold, tomato, yarrow, artemisia, mustard, lavender, scented geranium... The mosses, having been heated by the day’s sunlight, give off a slight fragrance that is both sweet and dank – almost a metallic smell. If I step over the wall into the pine forest, particularly after several days of rain, the mushrooms have sprouted, and the smell always takes me back to my girlhood days at Girl Scout camp...”
• “The legacy I want to pass on to Jacob is one of fascination with the natural world.”
This book can be plodding in places, but I found it to be a worthwhile gem nonetheless. I was sad to note online that Hedgehog Hill Farm –after being named in 2005 as one of the 5 top destinations in New England by Yankee magazine– closed in August 2006. After reading this book, which was published in 1988, I had hoped to be able to visit.
May 10, 2023
"I am always torn between the urge to discover every small bit of adventure that is taking place on the ground before my footsteps and the desire to watch the larger, more dramatic unfolding of landscape and form that I can see if I keep my gaze fixed higher" (173).
September 9, 2023
"The ways in which a person walks and looks around seem to be attached to different emotional states. Eyes kept downward keep the thoughts busy and close, jumping from small patterns of insects and plant life to personal and private turmoils. When you remember to lift the head up, you are usually forced to stretch out your observations and to reflect on shapes and meanings in a broader context. "(from Ch. 9)
I rented this book from the library after seeing it on a shelf with books about building your own farm house and starting a vegetable garden. I don't typically read books on farming, but I was on a Stardew Valley kick and the book seemed pretty brief. Plus, I've read a few memoirs here and there that I liked.
A brief summary of the book, before I go on about it: Terry and her husband Mark are successful business people in Boston who visit a farmhouse in central Maine for many years. Their interest in owning a farm starts with small gardens of flowers and vegetables, and becomes a sprawling business farm over the course of a decade or so. After the first few years, they decide to move into the farm as their permanent residence, working on the fields, trying many different methods of growing, preserving, crafting, and making money to put food on their table and keep the lights on. While their new lives demand extra thought and consideration into how they can sustain themselves, they grow to love the farm and form a bond with the local flora and fauna. This book follows their journey from the first seed to becoming a fully realized establishment.
Maybe I'm biased because I'm extremely familiar with the landscape in which this memoir takes place, but this book gave me a lot to think about in a way that many books don't. I was initially intrigued by the prologue--Terry directly addresses the "romantic mythology" associated with living in a rural area or a farm (which is now labeled anything between "simple living" and "cottagecore") and mentions the financial and livelihood realities that are often glossed over. Much of this is tied in with the back-to-land movement of the 60s and 70s, which pops up in many centuries as a anti-industrialist movement, but this version sees the origins of what is now an elaborate farmer's market system in New England (and nationally, I imagine--I can only speak for where I live).
I don't know if the author realized how timely her words would be in the years to come. This book was published in 1988, yet much of what she writes about is still feels extremely relevant now. This passage in particular struck me as a bold statement to make right out the gate:
"I believe that rural life has to be viewed as an aesthetic choice, not an ethical one. Lives can be as well-intentioned in corporate America as on the farm. There was a lot about the spirit of the back-to-land movement that was indulgent, naive, and self-righteous. Participants often spoke of their choices as though they were moral rather than personal. But sooner or later most of us realized that we had given up enormous rewards from participation in urban work and cultural life that are not easy to replace with real satisfaction in a rural environment."
Without needing to elaborate further, I know exactly what she's talking about. I do think this paragraph needs to be approached with a nuanced perspective, acknowledging the simultaneous destruction of nature in favor of corporate spaces and the moral posturing of simple/ethical living enthusiasts who are more interested in individual superiority than supporting their communities. Nonetheless, it's the paragraph I've thought the most about, especially with the pervasiveness of aesthetics vs. values today.
Terry makes it very clear that the flourishing of the farm is a collective effort, not an individual one. They receive help and advice from neighboring farmers that they meet in town, or at the early farmer's markets. Some are more helpful than others, but they find their place to belong after being met with great reluctance and judgment from their neighbors for being financially well off and business-savvy (explaining this dynamic in Maine specifically would require another five paragraphs of review, so I will spare any reader of that). Many people come and go to work on the farm, and they learn much about working with others in a new environment.
I believe this book is one of the most accurate accounts of what it means to live in a rural town and work the land. Farming is expensive, time consuming, physically demanding, and requires rethinking and reworking cultivation and business strategies with trial and error. Living in a rural area can be isolating, and it can be difficult to connect with the community, especially if you have children. There's lots of bugs and animals you have to account for, weather conditions that make driving and transportation difficult. The Siblers previous experience in business, design and teaching are incorporated into their farming business rather than treated as diametrically opposed.
And yet. There are still rewards earned from seeing the results of hard work, of something you cared for and nourished yourself. There is value in learning to be patient, to be curious, and to find the beauty in the things we encounter and aren't familiar with at first. We find support in communities that also allow us to be our individual selves and support our goals. The last chapter of this book elaborates on the scientific names and origins of the flowers from their very first garden, a testament to how far her understanding of nature has come since the beginning of her story.
I wish this book was more widely available, because it would be a valuable read for anyone interested in sustainable living, community efforts in rural areas, and modern agriculture. And maybe a selfish part of me also wants more people to read this because it resonates with me and my upbringing. This is not a perfect book, but its imperfections make me think deeper on its subject rather than critique it and shove it aside.
Anyways, yeah, I enjoyed reading this.
I rented this book from the library after seeing it on a shelf with books about building your own farm house and starting a vegetable garden. I don't typically read books on farming, but I was on a Stardew Valley kick and the book seemed pretty brief. Plus, I've read a few memoirs here and there that I liked.
A brief summary of the book, before I go on about it: Terry and her husband Mark are successful business people in Boston who visit a farmhouse in central Maine for many years. Their interest in owning a farm starts with small gardens of flowers and vegetables, and becomes a sprawling business farm over the course of a decade or so. After the first few years, they decide to move into the farm as their permanent residence, working on the fields, trying many different methods of growing, preserving, crafting, and making money to put food on their table and keep the lights on. While their new lives demand extra thought and consideration into how they can sustain themselves, they grow to love the farm and form a bond with the local flora and fauna. This book follows their journey from the first seed to becoming a fully realized establishment.
Maybe I'm biased because I'm extremely familiar with the landscape in which this memoir takes place, but this book gave me a lot to think about in a way that many books don't. I was initially intrigued by the prologue--Terry directly addresses the "romantic mythology" associated with living in a rural area or a farm (which is now labeled anything between "simple living" and "cottagecore") and mentions the financial and livelihood realities that are often glossed over. Much of this is tied in with the back-to-land movement of the 60s and 70s, which pops up in many centuries as a anti-industrialist movement, but this version sees the origins of what is now an elaborate farmer's market system in New England (and nationally, I imagine--I can only speak for where I live).
I don't know if the author realized how timely her words would be in the years to come. This book was published in 1988, yet much of what she writes about is still feels extremely relevant now. This passage in particular struck me as a bold statement to make right out the gate:
"I believe that rural life has to be viewed as an aesthetic choice, not an ethical one. Lives can be as well-intentioned in corporate America as on the farm. There was a lot about the spirit of the back-to-land movement that was indulgent, naive, and self-righteous. Participants often spoke of their choices as though they were moral rather than personal. But sooner or later most of us realized that we had given up enormous rewards from participation in urban work and cultural life that are not easy to replace with real satisfaction in a rural environment."
Without needing to elaborate further, I know exactly what she's talking about. I do think this paragraph needs to be approached with a nuanced perspective, acknowledging the simultaneous destruction of nature in favor of corporate spaces and the moral posturing of simple/ethical living enthusiasts who are more interested in individual superiority than supporting their communities. Nonetheless, it's the paragraph I've thought the most about, especially with the pervasiveness of aesthetics vs. values today.
Terry makes it very clear that the flourishing of the farm is a collective effort, not an individual one. They receive help and advice from neighboring farmers that they meet in town, or at the early farmer's markets. Some are more helpful than others, but they find their place to belong after being met with great reluctance and judgment from their neighbors for being financially well off and business-savvy (explaining this dynamic in Maine specifically would require another five paragraphs of review, so I will spare any reader of that). Many people come and go to work on the farm, and they learn much about working with others in a new environment.
I believe this book is one of the most accurate accounts of what it means to live in a rural town and work the land. Farming is expensive, time consuming, physically demanding, and requires rethinking and reworking cultivation and business strategies with trial and error. Living in a rural area can be isolating, and it can be difficult to connect with the community, especially if you have children. There's lots of bugs and animals you have to account for, weather conditions that make driving and transportation difficult. The Siblers previous experience in business, design and teaching are incorporated into their farming business rather than treated as diametrically opposed.
And yet. There are still rewards earned from seeing the results of hard work, of something you cared for and nourished yourself. There is value in learning to be patient, to be curious, and to find the beauty in the things we encounter and aren't familiar with at first. We find support in communities that also allow us to be our individual selves and support our goals. The last chapter of this book elaborates on the scientific names and origins of the flowers from their very first garden, a testament to how far her understanding of nature has come since the beginning of her story.
I wish this book was more widely available, because it would be a valuable read for anyone interested in sustainable living, community efforts in rural areas, and modern agriculture. And maybe a selfish part of me also wants more people to read this because it resonates with me and my upbringing. This is not a perfect book, but its imperfections make me think deeper on its subject rather than critique it and shove it aside.
Anyways, yeah, I enjoyed reading this.
December 18, 2020
If you have an interest in homesteading this is a good book to at least get some ideas on how people started their farms in ideas on what they did. She definitely had some good advice for people who want to get into this kind of lifestyle. I would highly recommend this book. However you just need to remember that your going to get a lot more to think about than you are going to learn.
October 24, 2018
Very much in the vein of Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, but perhaps a bit more unassuming in tone and practical in content.
January 15, 2016
A small farm in Maine by Terry Silver
Terry and Mark are photographers and buy a farm in 70's in Maine for weekends.
They farm the land as time goes on and all the changes that come about. Others teach them how to grow produce, flowers and herbs.
How they start with just one small plot and every year they enlarge it. Like story of greenhouse and the improvements after the first year they had to make.
Loved the part about growing seeds inside too early-this is what I have been known to do and the advice about rotating the crops.
I received this book from National Library Service for my BARD (Braille Audio Reading Device).
Terry and Mark are photographers and buy a farm in 70's in Maine for weekends.
They farm the land as time goes on and all the changes that come about. Others teach them how to grow produce, flowers and herbs.
How they start with just one small plot and every year they enlarge it. Like story of greenhouse and the improvements after the first year they had to make.
Loved the part about growing seeds inside too early-this is what I have been known to do and the advice about rotating the crops.
I received this book from National Library Service for my BARD (Braille Audio Reading Device).
August 3, 2009
I enjoyed this book. It started out really well and she has some interesting thoughts throughout. However, I really felt like the whole purpose of the book was a little vague and she tended to meander a lot in her thinking. I suppose it's one of the downsides to some creative memoir. This book was not what I expected, but if you're really into gardening and how they made a business out of it, then you might enjoy this book.
April 22, 2013
A super delight! One of the original back-to-the-land memoirs, though Silber writes about business and growing a life and being an business owner. Although her writing is quite simple and the plot like a gentle stream instead of a wild ocean, I couldn't put it down. Anyone thinking of farming, or finding ways to be self-sustaining, will enjoy the goodness of the book.
June 16, 2008
Long before Barbara Kingsolver (Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, also a good book), Terry and her husband learned the in's and out's of surviving on the land. In Maine. A very informative book.
February 11, 2009
I loved this book and envied the author.
October 16, 2009
This book was mostly just ok. I loved the idea of it, but Terry Silber's style is totally drawn out. The book didn't even have a proper conclusion!
September 3, 2011
It was alright, but kind of rambling in parts. It also ended very abruptly without any type of conclusion.
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March 16, 2009630.9 Sil
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September 25, 2013This book started me on my farming quest
Displaying 1 - 15 of 15 reviews