Farm to shower

As Carolyn “Caz” Hansen walked among the sprawling vines at her Corning farm, she couldn’t resist stopping frequently.

“Hey, kids!” she called out to her plants as she strolled along. “You guys are looking for the last of the blooms, huh?”

Rows and rows of the cucumber-like fruits stretch across her farm on Columbia Avenue, a narrow rural road in Tehama County about 2 miles from Interstate 5. The life of the annual crop begins in April, and the fruits can grow as long as a forearm.

The “beasts” are something to marvel at, and during a recent private tour, Hansen grabbed her pocket knife when she found a ripe specimen. Slicing the top, she peeled back the yellowish skin, like she was about to dig into a banana.

The inside held a surprise: a tan, fibrous material, spongy and flexible—a loofah (also spelled luffa) in its natural shape and form, “however Mother Nature makes it,” Hansen said.

The first seeds of MoonBeam Farm were planted in May 2015, when Hansen started growing her first two rows of loofah (also spelled luffa). In that first year, she had about 200 plants. Now she has more than 4,000.

The farm, which also cultivates three types of lavender, opened to the public in August 2017, and a variety of products are sold at an on-site store—a barn painted an impossible-to-miss “Moroccan red.” There are loofah sponges and soaps, and lavender goods galore: neck pillows, soaps, sugar scrubs, bath bombs, beard oils and perfumes/colognes. Everything is made and packaged by hand on the farm.

Hansen also offers free and low-cost classes on topics such as baking with lavender, experiencing loofah and creating felt soap and sugar scrubs. She hosts field trips and tours, as well.

She’s a multitalented Jill of all trades—a painter, craftswoman and accountant/auditor—and is passionate about her work on the farm. MoonBeam Farm does not use pesticides or bleach or dye on the loofah, often a practice with imported products. Nor does MoonBeam force the weave into the shapes commonly spotted at drug stores.

“I’m trying to keep everything as basic and as close to the Earth as possible,” she said.

That’s why hers look and feel different. Instead of stiff, pale, unyielding material, organic loofah is simply rinsed of its oily sap and seeds after it is plucked from the vine. Once air-dried, it is ready to be cut and packaged.

Loofah in that form has a variety of uses: tough enough to clean kitchen grime and floss a dog’s teeth, but soft enough to cleanse the skin.

MoonBeam Farm is a labor of love for a small team. Hansen co-owns the farm with her father, Marvin, an 89-year-old veteran, and runs it with Ara Noble, her property manager. Volunteers and interns come through every now and then.

Hansen was born in New Zealand and raised in Holland until she was 10, when her family moved to the States and settled in Petaluma. Her grandmother cared for a couple of loofah plants there—Hansen’s first exposure to “land sponge.” They were drawn to the Corning property because of its land quality and proximity to Chico and its veterans services.

Noble also grew up outside of the U.S., working at her family’s urban convenience store in the Philippines. Her husband and great uncle built the barn for MoonBeam; she and Hansen hit it off. Noble now lives on the farm and provides hospice care for Marvin.

“I’ve learned a lot here,” she told the CN&R. “It’s a really big deal for me.”

The pair reminisced about the past three years, chuckling about Noble’s first time driving a tractor—she’s so light, they had to add sandbags to the seat to trigger the sensor.

Hansen reflected on more sentimental moments, too, like a significant loss of lavender crop her first year. As she has learned how to cultivate her trade, and as her father’s health care needs have increased, she’s learned to change her perspective. Accounting is a high-stress profession, always about achieving “100 percent” success, but that doesn’t have to extend to other parts of her life.

“[At the farm], there’s something about listening to the birds, being in the sun … smelling the lavender,” she said. “I’ve now learned that life is OK at 80 percent or 85 percent.”

Hansen has many plans for MoonBeam Farm, such as adding African wedding brooms, pet products and lavender ornaments to her offerings. She is seeking wholesale opportunities and eventually wants to expand the barn and host weddings.

As the farm has grown, she has enjoyed fostering a connection with her community—her events have created a fun, quiet bonding opportunity for small groups, and her first lavender harvest celebration drew more than 1,000 visitors (see infobox).

“If anything, if that’s something we can do as a farm, for people to come and be a part of each other[’s lives],” Hansen said, “there’s something very exciting about that.”