I’m floored. And by floored, I mean I’m currently laying on the floor, soothing my aching bones from the exhaustion that has joyfully consumed my body. 5,000 copies of Family Table are currently sitting in my God-forsaken basement awaiting their destiny on your kitchen counter! The book is done. The book is here. The book is for
I believe in farm life. And here’s why. My dear, sweet, ever-working husband is putting the finishing touches on our 9 foot farm table. It’s been in the works since early summer and to say I’m excited to see this project coming to a close is an understatement. I’ve always dreamed of a table just
If I could sum up why it is we do everything we do… … the early morning milkings… …. the cleaning out of the chicken coop… … the tending, caring, and slaving over the garden beds… … the answer is actually quite clean and easy. It’s the food. We do what we do for the
Two weeks ago, we said goodbye to our beloved ram lamb Guido, and hello to the most delicious meat I’ve ever tasted. Okay – next to our homegrown chicken and pork, of course. But this lamb stands alone. WOW. If you’re on the fence, come to my farm. I’ll roast you a rump roast that’s
Chicken feet. The feets of the chicken. Boys and girls, that’s what we’re talking about today. Now, don’t go gettin’ all grossed out. Y’all are familiar with our ideals for our farm. Nothing gets wasted. And why on Earth Americans wasted these wonderful morsels is beyond me. We’ll eat fast food but we won’t simmer chicken
I was recently asked, ‘Shaye… why do you do it? Why do you slave over the stove… over the garden bed… over the animal poop… over the piles of dirty dishes? Why, why, why?’ Great question, ye who shall not be named. (Don’t worry. It wasn’t Voldemort that asked me.) Anyway, I thought for about
For those who are new, this ‘Why We Homestead’ series is being written by my delicious husband Stuart. To catch part one of the series, read Why We Homestead, Part One. Why We Homestead, Part Two: Scratching An Itch On a Spring morning, the light from the sun’s rays separate as they crest Jump-off Ridge.
A quick note: Most of you know about my insanely handsome and wonderful husband, Stuart. He may not make an appearance on the blog as often as beard-loving-women would hope, but know he’s always behind the scenes encouraging, advising, and working on the homestead. I’ve asked him to do a short series of posts with me
We’ve been getting lots of emails from readers lately asking about our financial situation and how we fund our homestead. They usually take me by surprise. WHAT? Why would people be asking that?! Perhaps because it was pretty public knowledge that last year, in Alabama, Dave Ramsey ran out life like the tightest of ships.
I love my Toby turd. One may think that because I have nicknamed him Toby ‘turd’ I don’t love him, but truth be told, I really do. He’s the most loyal pooch in the entire world, faithfully guarding our livestock all day every day. I’m ashamed then, to say, that Toby Turd was the last