Bob Wilson, Exempt Gentleman Basil Farmer

Since leaving my company of almost 23 years last month, I’ve had many people wish me well on my retirement. The only problem is, I didn’t ever say I was retiring. I left that company to start a new one, and while things there are percolating along quite nicely, I cannot say I have approached anything even remotely resembling retirement. In fact, I am quite busy, and my “to-do” list is downright intimidating. While it is very exciting, it does present a significant economic challenge. We are a self-funded startup, which means for the foreseeable future my wife and I have recognized that I will be “performing without a net.” It turns out the only thing I retired was my income.

Regarding that reality, my wife has made certain moves designed to stretch our meager savings as far as possible. That can be a challenge, as she is someone who makes a great effort to buy only healthy food (she does not buy anything without reading the nutrition label). Nonetheless, she has done an admirable job of stocking the shelves with non-perishables through bulk buying, Publix BOGOs, and other resourceful efforts. Our two pantries are stock full of supplies – we look like preppers convinced Armageddon is scheduled for next week.

Although admittedly it is difficult to make a case for poverty when you have two pantries.

One of the things my wife decided to do as part of this change in purchase patterns was to grow our own basil for her cooking needs, as it would be both fresher than store-bought, and in theory, would cost us less. We have attempted this in the past, normally just to watch the poor little plant wither and die about fifteen minutes after arriving home from the store. This time, however, she made the decision that the basil should be in some sort of planter box outside. 

After an extensive search that consumed about $175 in gas, we located an acceptable unit at Lowe’s; a blue plastic planter about 40 inches in length with a detachable drain tray. We bought the box and planting soil and were almost ready to start our basil operation. Except the basil plant we already had would be all alone in this box. Clearly, we needed to add to the crop. Like any good farmer, we diversified, and after more driving located acceptable additions in the form of parsley and cilantro. While those two new plants are nice to have, I must make it clear that growing basil remains the primary mission here.

The basil, parsley, and cilantro were all planted in our new box, and placed on two small tables in our pool area. My wife selected that area because it is screened and will keep bugs out of our nascent crop (a screened pool is inside a giant screened room called a pool cage. Very handy for keeping snakes and other critters out of your pool, but for some reason the concept seems to baffle those up north who have never seen one). 

The problem, as I have come to learn, is that farming basil seems to come with challenges and demands. You just can’t stick your crop in the ground (or a plastic box supported by two small tables inside your pool cage) and expect it to produce food. No, if it doesn’t rain you have to water it. And if it rains too much you must move it under the covered lanai. It may get too much sun. Or not enough. Those factors also mean that the plastic box and two tables that support it must be moved with relative frequency. 

It dawned on me the other day as I was shuttling our crops around the pool cage; I have become Bob Wilson, Gentleman Basil Farmer. This experience has given me a truer feeling about what thousands of agricultural workers must endure. Tending crops with backbreaking work for the benefit of “the man,” all the while without protections afforded under workers’ compensation. Like many of those other workers who till the land for a living, I am also exempt from mandatory coverage for this work. It’s practically the same thing. Except I work for “the woman,” and can jump in the pool after tending the crops. Other than that, I assume the experience is identical.

Perhaps, though, with the prevalence of corporate farming across the nation, it is time states revisit their agricultural exemptions and look to extend workers’ comp to that industry. 

In the meantime, I must admit to some success in our home agriculture experiment. We managed to make delicious pesto this weekend, using 4 cups of fresh basil, some toasted pine nuts (presumably grown in someone else’s pool cage), olive oil, and parmesan cheese. It has been such a success that there is talk of expanding the operation. My wife has found a five-tiered rolling plant rack, and there is talk of greatly expanding our production capacity. The rack only costs a couple of hundred dollars, and we’ll need to buy more planting soil, but there is lofty talk of growing our own tomato. 

Man, we are going to save so much money. And that tomato should be delicious.

But I will still be lacking the protections of workers’ comp. I will no doubt think about that every time I am rolling our farm around the pool cage. As long as I lift with my legs and don’t fall into the pool, I should be ok. But we will manage. That is the life of a gentleman basil farmer in challenging economic times.