Seasonal success: Having two full-time farmers in the family cultivates positives and problems

John and Karen Pendleton work in a hoop greenhouse on their family farm east of Lawrence.

About this series

Farm, Inc.” is a multi-part series exploring the hurdles and joys of trying to be a full-time farmer in and around Lawrence. Find all stories in this series.

It’s Tuesday night, the sun is going down and there’s a light breeze whipping through an open field. A couple is alone, no one else in sight. It’s just them, Mother Nature and a whole mess of pea seeds.

“It was about 7:30, and so we went out to plant some peas, and it was just the two of us,” Karen Pendleton says. “It’s our date time to go out and plant peas together on a Tuesday night.”

John and Karen Pendleton, 54 and 52 respectively, have been full-time farmers and faces in the Lawrence produce and flower community for almost three decades. Their country store is a food and garden must-stop from spring to fall, their asparagus is some of the most popular in the area, and they’ve managed to avoid off-farm jobs since 1982.

To many the Pendletons’ résumé may seem like the American dream come true. So much so that you’d expect an apple pie to be sitting on a windowsill of their farm house just east of Lawrence. But they’ll be the first to remind you that the success of the American dream and a silo-full of American greenbacks don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand.

“There’s an old saying that farmers live poor and die rich. And it’s because a lot of money is tied up in equipment and land,” John Pendleton says. “To be able to try and generate enough income off one operation is very difficult. It doesn’t matter if it’s a horticultural operation like ours or a traditional agricultural farm with corn, soybeans and wheat. Typically you’re going to find somebody in the family has got an off-the-farm job, if for no other reason, health insurance.”

Karen Pendleton says that the family’s health insurance bill can be one of their biggest a month – easily eating up $1,000 a month or more.

“We would both be open, even now, actually, to an outside job just because it’s getting harder and harder to stay just on the farm. And the biggest reason is insurance,” she says. “It’s funny, people who don’t have to buy their own, who get insurance through their jobs, a lot of times don’t understand how much insurance costs. … I’d gladly take a full-time job for insurance. You wouldn’t have to pay me any money, just give me insurance.”

John and Karen Pendleton pick off suckers from their hydroponic tomatoes at their farm east of Lawrence.

John Pendleton handles asparagus at the family farm, Pendleton’s Country Market, 1446 E. 1850 Road. The Pendletons say they found success planting asparagus and other vegetables at their farm when demand for flowers declined.

Making it work

How have the Pendletons managed to keep it going through all those insurance payments, the raising of three kids and dealing with the most costly force of all: the weather?

It helps that the couple had a bit of a head start. As the children of farmers, yes, they had access to land, but more than that, they had first-hand knowledge of what it takes to be a full-time farmer. They already knew there was nothing idyllic about the roller coaster ride that is a farmer’s paycheck.

“Having a seasonal business, like with agriculture, the checks are coming in quickly in the spring, but, boy, during the wintertime, it’s a long, long time before you see any income,” John Pendleton says.

To try to steady the income a bit, the Pendletons have adapted, delving into markets they had previously left untapped when they started selling asparagus off a half-acre of former cattle land in 1980. The asparagus was a hit, and the couple soon had a waiting list a mile long during the spring for the short-season vegetable. It took time, but eventually, they went from selling just asparagus to selling an assortment of vegetables and fruits at the farm – both directly and as “you pick” – and at the Farmers’ Market. They also have a booming flower business – they estimate they sell more flowers than asparagus – and even have started bringing in income by holding weddings and gatherings, both private and professional, on the property.

They balance all the work by playing to each other’s strengths. John deals with the production end, while Karen, who had been in working in public relations before quitting to be on the farm, works with customers, oversees the company’s website and newsletter, and makes sure the farm is up on its licenses and permits – and there’s a lot of them.

She says the farm has to have everything from a license to sell live plants to a conditional-use permit to allow them to sell items on the farm to a permit from the Department of Transportation to put a sign along the highway to let people know about the business in the first place.

“It’s easy thing to think that, ‘Oh this would be fun, to just go out and open up a barn and have a little business,’ but just like any other business, there’s all sorts of rules and regulations you have to follow,” she says. “If you’re a small business owner with a few employees, you’re the HR department, you’re the accounting department, you’re the advertising specialist, you’re the marketing, you’re everything.”

Karen Pendleton looks over a tray full of bedding plants ready for warmer weather.

Recovering from disaster

On March 12, 2006, the Pendletons had a major decision to make. That morning, a severe microburst whipped through Douglas County, packing fierce winds and leaving a mangled mess throughout much of the area. The Pendletons’ plot of land was most definitely not spared.

“The microburst damaged every piece of equipment and every building on our farm. And most of our equipment was damaged to the point that it would have to be replaced,” Karen Pendleton says. “And we just couldn’t afford to replace everything.”

The Pendletons were looking at mounds of wreckage and bills just before their high season for their popular spring crops – asparagus and rhubarb. Not to mention they literally couldn’t work their side business of traditional soybean and corn crops because all of their machines were unusable.

“We really thought long and hard about, ‘OK, this would be the time we do make a change if we’re going to,’ but we actually had over 300 people volunteer and help literally pick up after the microburst, and our customers didn’t let us quit,” says John Pendleton, who now rents out the former corn and soybean land rather than work it himself. “We were forced to stay in business.”

As for how long they might stay in business in the future, they’re not sure. Their youngest child is a freshman in college, and despite being empty-nesters, they don’t feel like the golden years of retirement are any closer than they were three decades ago.

“And that’s an issue – there really isn’t retirement there,” Karen Pendleton says. “I wish the business had made enough money that there would be retirement. We don’t have a 401(k).”

Which means whether an off-farm job does come into the picture, the Pendletons plan to have several more seasons of Tuesday nights in the field with a mess of peas and each other.

“You have to enjoy it,” Karen Pendleton says of her livelihood. “It’s not only a full-time job, it’s your life’s work. It’s 24/7.”