Shaye… you should go check on the little piglets. No. It’s cold. Shaye… you should go gather the eggs because, baby, it’s cold outside, and they’ll explode. No. It’s 3 degrees. Shaye… it’s almost the full moon and Nöel is very close to having her lambs and you need to seclude her. No. Brr. I
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At the end of it all, I have hope. We lost our Lochy boy this past week. He ventured a wee bit too far from home (not far as the crow flies, but none-the-less, ended up on a 45 mph country road) and was struck by a car. A pedestrian happened to see him laying
Once upon a time there was a farm girl. She loved cows. Their smell. Their fuzzy necks. Their wet, black noses. Their ability to provide her family with gallons and gallons of delicious, raw milk. And the love story goes on and on. Insert the family cow. By the way, that farm girl is me.
I didn’t intend to be lambing in winter. Aren’t lambs naturally supposed to come in the spring time? Isn’t that just the way that nature works or something? Oh wait. Shouldn’t I also know by now that nothing just ‘works’ like that? There’s always a few twists and turns to keep us on our toes as farmers.
Last Thursday afternoon, I had to experience one of those those moments that no person wants to experience. One of those experiences that you so badly wish you could undo. Unlive. Unsee. The death of a companion. My Toby-turd. The sun had peeked out for the first time in over a week and the weather
It was the long, brown curls that hung in front of his eyes that captured my heart. From the moment I first saw Hugh Ferring-Wittingstale on River Cottage years ago, I was totally in love. So when Hugh moved to the country and fell in love with his beloved Dorset sheep… well, I did too.
It’s funny, but here on the farm, meat doesn’t come in packages. “Whole, skinless, boneless, chicken breasts”. Nope. And as convenient as that would be at times, it just ain’t the way the good Lord designed in. Chickens come with: 2 wings 2 legs and 2 thighs 2 breasts 2 “oysters” 2 feet 1 neck
How on God’s green earth have I not told you about Hermoine, Ginny, and Harry yet? (Yes. Those are Harry Potter names. Let’s get over it and move on… because some of us here love H.P.) They’ve been with us for the better part of a month now and after trying to source heritage pigs for
You’d think as a writer that I would relish this opportunity to utilize my fingertips and words to talk about my emotions… my thoughts… my sadness. But truth be told, I’m forcing myself to type these words. The biggest part of me wants to run to the hills, dig myself a cozy hole in the