About gigi
Gigi harvesting eggplant under shade cloth
Food has always been how care was shown in my family.
I learned this most clearly from my grandmother, who cooked without fuss or recipes, trusting experience over instructions. Meals were shaped by the seasons and by who was coming through the door—Sunday dinners, weekday leftovers. There was always something warm to share and an easy habit of pulling up another chair. That rhythm stayed with me.
Before farming, before markets, food was already my first language.
Milk Lady Markets has been part of my life since 2011. Several years into that work, I took on an additional chapter and began farming a single acre of my own. From 2017 through early 2020, I farmed alongside the ongoing market work—balancing time in the field with time spent supporting farmers, vendors, and customers.
Those seasons overlapped in meaningful ways. Farming deepened my understanding of soil, timing, and risk, while the markets kept me closely connected to the realities farmers face every week. Working in both places at once sharpened my judgment and reinforced the value of steady systems, thoughtful planning, and care that holds up over time.
Working the land itself was grounding and instructive. It required patience, close observation, and respect for forces beyond control—weather, soil, and seasons. Many days were quiet and physical, guided less by plans and more by paying attention.
While the farming chapter documented on this site has ended, the values behind it remain part of my daily work. I continue to stay close to food systems that prioritize fairness, seasonality, and care—carrying forward what I learned in family kitchens, at the markets, and in the field.
When I began farming, I understood that soil takes time. It can take three to five growing seasons before the land begins to reach its potential. That long view appealed to me.
In January 2017, before I had land secured, I made a quiet decision: I was going to farm that year. Instead of a vision board, I drew what I imagined an urban farm could look like — beds, pathways, space to work thoughtfully. Months later, when I stepped onto the property that became my farm, the resemblance surprised me. The shape was different — more trapezoid than rectangle — but the feeling was unmistakable.
By October 2017, what had started as a drawing had become a working farm. It felt less like luck and more like the result of attention, patience, and a willingness to begin before everything was certain.
I am really thankful, and working the land was delicious!
All Good Things!☆.¸¸.•´¯`☆.¸¸.•´¯`☆
Gigi
Gigi Goin
Farmer