About 12 years ago, I dreamt about setting up a small farmstand in our suburban neighbourhood. The previous season was my first year growing food in the front yard, which provided abundant produce plus an unexpected perk: Being in the front yard and regularly tending the garden connected me to my neighbours.

Whenever I was in the front garden, people would wave as they drove by or say “good morning” while walking dogs. Often, passersby would stop to chat about the day, admire the evolving garden or ask questions about what I was growing. I found great joy in sending them on their way with a few cut flowers, a handful of herbs for dinner or a seedling they could plant at home. These interactions with my community, even the pessimistic naysayers (too much work, too many insects), helped drive my desire to build a Farmstand.

What if I combined our abundance of homegrown produce with the neighbours who wanted organic food into a business opportunity? Wouldn’t it be great if I could putter in the garden and kitchen during the day instead of having to go “out” to earn a living? That would be the ideal life for me.

Being self-employed would require a lot of dedication and discipline but would also provide what I desired most: Freedom. Freedom to make my schedule, artistic freedom to create a landscape, style a quaint little shop, freedom to interact with people who would appreciate my efforts, freedom to tend to family members who needed my help (doctor appointments, school pick up, etc.). Building a Farmstand would give me the ability to promote something I was passionate about ~ the importance of self-reliance ~ as well as bring cash into our household.

I was smitten with the idea and determined to try it. I explained my brilliant business plan to my husband, Dave, and he thought I had gone completely bonkers.

In his opinion, it wasn’t appropriate in suburbia. If we were out in the country, then maybe, but not on these small urban lots; he didn’t want it to be an eyesore in the neighbourhood or for anyone to disapprove. I assured him I would keep everything aesthetically pleasing by not using flapping plastic or makeshift baling-twine trellises. In my sketches, the Farmstand table was a subtle addition to our existing fence and would hardly be noticeable.

Dave then explained that we lived on a quiet street. Without adequate traffic flow, there was no way it would be successful. “Plus, what about bylaws?” he insisted. “What if people complained? We are new here. I want to fit into the neighbourhood. What if people steal the stuff rather than pay for it?” During his list of reasons to squash my idea, I handed him a hammer and said, “Please come and help me.”

I did have doubts about offering the public my garden surplus, artistic pieces, and baking. As my husband dithered, my idea could fail for many reasons. Maybe the neighbours would complain, the town council would charge me with bylaw infractions, or everything would be stolen instead of purchased. There were risks involved, but aren’t all new steps a risk in one form or another? I was willing to proceed because I felt the positive benefits would outweigh the uncertainty.

The neighbourhood embraced the Lawn to Food Urban Farmstand. I was overwhelmed by the enthusiastic community feedback, the positive environment it created for me, and the money it earned. Not surprisingly, no one was more flabbergasted at the Farmstand’s success than my negative-nellie husband.

I put out an eclectic array of my bountiful offerings in the first few days. Collard Greens, Carrots (I put out a free sample plate), cut flowers in random jars, small herb bunches, berries in recycled containers, and baskets of my $1 baguettes to add a little French Country flair to the Farmstand. Within a few weeks, a neighbour joined my endeavour with her divided perennials in pots, dried lavender bundles and homemade creams, lotions and soaps. I also offered some extra household items for sale from time to time.

I thoroughly enjoyed perusing my garden each morning, harvesting herbs, picking beans and pulling root vegetables. Being present in the garden each day had an unexpected benefit to the bounty. The garden flourished because I was catching slug populations, plucking a few weeds and planting a few seeds as I collected inventory for the Farmstand.

I intended to harvest enough of this and that to sell and earn x amount of dollars in a day. It was never my goal to become a full-fledged market garden. I was just a home gardener who wanted to earn enough to buy our meat, cheese, pantry staples and canning jars.

I’d have the Farmstand produce set out and arranged by 10 a.m. each morning, 7 days a week. I would either use what didn’t sell in our evening meal, preserve it, or use it up in the following days.

Often, our evening summer meals were what I called Nibbles. Nibbles included handfuls of harvest from the garden, toasties from one of my baguettes, extras from the Farmstand and maybe a couple of eggs from our backyard hens.

One very popular item at the Farmstand was salad packs. Customers could purchase a Greek salad box and make it up at home with their dressing. These packs were also effortless for me to gather and price according to the number of items I included. The price of these did fluctuate with the season as well. In the high season for tomatoes, cucumbers, and basil (when I wanted to sell excessive bounty), the prices were lower than for early spring packs with the same items.

As the Farmstand became established over the years, I added more popular items and edited out a few that weren’t selling. Baking fresh baguettes, pretzels, and scones was a winner. I started out baking three days per week, but demand was so high that it became an almost daily occurrence, especially during the pandemic when no one wanted to go to the big box stores.

Customers could follow me on social media, where I consistently posted by 8 a.m. what I was, or was not, baking that day. I also made a list of what garden produce was available, if I was closing for a few days and whether the local farmer was able to drop off fresh eggs for them to purchase. Sometimes, in addition to colourful hen eggs, she brought duck and goose eggs (aka dinosaur eggs), which delighted young and old. I am certain that the variety of items offered for sale was paramount to the success of the Lawn to Food Urban Farmstand. Vegetables, herbs, bread, eggs, flowers, home-made gifts … a one-stop shop!

There were some lows to the Farmstand, but they were negligible. A couple of baguettes were taken, wind and rain ruined my baking a few times, the deer would steal bundles of kale right out of the water vases, and once my sign went for a walkabout until a neighbour saw it in the hands of some teenagers and promptly retrieved it. The town by-law officer did stop by in my first year to chat. I chose to stay within the boundaries he set and never heard from him again.

The experience blew away my expectations. When I dedicated myself to the garden and the business, I was very happy in my vocation and netted over $2000 a month during the summer. In the winter, I’d take a bit of time off, but I still averaged $300 a week with baking, preserves, seedlings, winter crops, and some creative art, such as reclaimed-wood planter boxes.

I could write a lot more about my 9 years of experience with the Lawn to Food Urban Farmstand (and I might!), but overall, I highly recommend following through with your own desires to grow and share with your community.

Life really is what you make of it. Go plant some seeds ….