Bill Wodraska shared some of his thoughts regarding one of mankind's better ideas — barter — and offered up an interesting suggestion: "I'd like to see a continuing feature on barter agreements and skill-and-labor exchanges," said Bill. "You're on!" MOTHER EARTH NEWS replied.
My husband and I started our married life—just as we'd planned to for six years—with a move to the country. And barter has played a major role in our new lifestyle by providing us with food and shelter.
Our trading began when a little determination (and a little luck) landed us a part-time milking job on a fairly large dairy farm. In exchange for one week's work a month (on days of our choosing), we live rent-free in a fine two-bedroom farmhouse, have the use of a wood burning stove and free-for-the-gathering fuel, and have access to a five-acre pasture to graze our animals in!
The vegetables from our garden and fresh-from-the-cow milk for making butter and cheese keep our larder full at little cost. In addition, one of the best salmon and trout rivers in the Northwest borders our new home (I've caught fish that produced steaks the size of a dinner plate!).
Furthermore, as part of the milking deal, our farmer friend gives us a discount when we purchase day-old calves. We're slowly building up a dairy herd (for the time when we can afford our own farm) at very little expense.
The swap is good for the dairyman, too, since he gets a fourth of his farm work done "free."
Now we think that's a pretty darn good MOTHER EARTH NEWS-type exchange!
Being a "get more for less" enthusiast from way back, I've always been interested in swapping. But by far the best opportunity I've had to enjoy my horsetrading hobby occurred a little more than three years ago when my wife and I opened a natural foods store.
Because we started out on a shoe-string budget, we found that bartering was essential to get our enterprise up and running. And rather than hurt our budding business venture by making folks uneasy (as we, on occasion, had feared it would), swapping actually helped attract customers! Once people knew we were willing to trade our wares for items or services of like value, all kinds of deals were proposed. A commercial sign painter, for example, designed our outdoor advertising display in exchange for credit at the shop. Two other barter-bent brush-wielders supplied the artwork for our catalogs and promotional flyers in return for nuts, dried fruit, and other organically grown foods.
More trades followed: During the summer months we swapped rice, grains, and dried beans for locally grown produce; our part-time help accepted food as payment for their labor; and a share of our store's wares even "bought" us legal advice! You might say that barter has become the main means of exchange in this business venture!
Toward the end of my travels in the United Kingdom, my funds grew scarce and I realized that the trip would have to come to a close sooner than I had anticipated. Even though I wanted to spend more time hiking in the rugged, breathtaking highlands of northwestern Scotland, I knew that—as a foreigner—it wouldn't be fair or legal to compete with the local folk for the already too-few jobs in that remote region.
I noticed, however, that the birch-covered knolls of the north country harbored a veritable carpet of edible chanterelle mushrooms (Cantharellus cibarius), a delicacy that is highly regarded and sought after in continental Europe but shunned by many of the local Scot villagers because of its exotic golden-orange color.
So, being something of a wild-food fan, I struck up a bargain with the local hotel chef (who had neither the time nor the desire to search the hills for the fungal morsels but whose clientele were fond of such delicacies). In return for a steady supply of the succulent mushrooms, he provided me with ample portions of his leftover fixings (meals which included salmon, duck, and—of course—home-baked scones).
Thanks to our trade, the hotel guests were treated to tasty mushroom sauces, while I was able to save money on food and thus extend my vacation!
As an avid angler, I find that I often accumulate more fishing equipment than I can use (it seems I'm forever testing one type of rod after another to try to locate the "perfect" bigmouth-bass snagger).
So when an acquaintance approached me about a trade a few years ago, I was glad to swap some of my excess gear for a 12-gauge shotgun.
Soon after that "purchase," however, I landed a stimulating but time consuming job that afforded me fewer leisure hours to devote to hunting and left the shotgun sitting idly in the back room. In fact, I had just about forgotten about the weapon when both of the family cars sputtered to a stop. After learning the repairs to get them back on the road would cost $300, and knowing my wallet couldn't foot that bill, I decided to try barter.
I made a circuit of the local garages with the hope of trading my unused firearm for some auto repair work, and struck it lucky on my second try: The service station's owner was hankering for just such a gun ... and he had recently priced the same model for over $300!
Now the runabouts are both in prime condition again, my pocket's not a penny poorer, and I've made a new friend!
Not long ago I was stung by the beekeeping bug, and—after boning up on the basics of apiculture—was eager to acquire a hive to tend. As I was discussing the possibility of purchasing a colony from a neighboring Apis mellifera enthusiast, though, the farmer mentioned that his barn needed some repairs. That was all the encouragement I needed! Being in the construction business, you see, I have a considerable supply of stockpiled scrap lumber. So, being a not-too-shabby carpenter (and a bartering fiend at heart), I quickly proposed a trade: my wood and labor for one of my beekeeping buddy's inhabited hives.
Now—a load of wood, a bag of nails, and a couple of afternoons later—I'm a proud backyard beekeeper, eagerly looking forward to that first honey harvest!
Last autumn, when my husband and I needed to pick up some supplies from our veterinarian, we found ourselves—upon arriving at the doctor's office—surrounded by stacks of old house parts that turned out to be discards from his latest remodeling project. And, when we discovered that the medical practitioner was planning to have the "junk" carted off and burned, we quickly asked whether we could salvage the usable materials in exchange for hauling away the entire heap.
Furthermore, as we started to work on our end of the deal, we realized that the animal doctor had recently installed a wood burning heating system but as yet had no supply of firewood.
Well, we had leftover treetops from constructing a log house, the equipment (and time) needed to cut more timber, and a $100 vet bill!
An even trade was arranged. Now when we need the doc's services, he charges us by the cord!
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