If you could see my house right now, you’d undoubtedly feel better about your own. That is assuming, of course, that you can see your floor through a layer of dirt, manure, and straw that keeps finding it’s way in on clothing and little boys’ boots. It’s also assuming that you, at some point in
Oh hello spring, you cheeky devil! Much like an ex-fling, you show up just enough to make me remember how much fun we used to have, before casting me back to the darkness of winter without you. But your temper tantrum antics, my dear spring, won’t get the best of me this year… because
Welcome To The Farm How-to Wisdom From The Elliott Homestead Most of you landed on my blog because you were, in some capacity, interested in homesteading. Maybe for you it was because you wanted to make your own chicken feed. Maybe it was the idea of finally beginning to make your own homemade bread. Maybe
Follow us on YouTube HERE! We’re putting our bees to bed for the winter. Overwintering bees means…honey on the homestead! Check out our video here. We show you what beekeeping on the homestead looks like, plus, why we add a towel to the hive…Watch our Overwintering Bees video!
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
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
Sometimes the Lord chooses to answer our desperate cries quickly! Man, oh man, did this happen fast! In the context of The Elliott Homestead, this is huge news! And great news. Ya’ll. We bought a farm. Do you like how before I drop a bomb I always say ‘y’all’? I blame it on my Southern husband.
Ya’ll. Thank you for allowing me time to rest… to remember… to reflect after Sal’s passing. I’m most certainly not ‘over it’. Nor am I ‘healed’. But I am very much thankful for the time I had with my girl and that her passing was peaceful. These last few days have been fairly peaceful on
Summer has a bit of magic that swirls around the fringes of complete insanity. Just when I think I’ll surely hole up and die of exhaustion, there are teeny moments of pure, well, magic that revive my soul enough to complete another task… another chore… another harvest. While I was snuggled up to Sally’s flank,
Sometimes, I wear Stuart’s boxer briefs to bed. Yes, it’s true. And on this stagnant and sweaty summer night, they seemed the perfect pajama. So I tucked in, briefs and t-shirt. Earlier that night, approximately 2,192 times, I’d made the trek down to the shop (we live on a gigantic hill… practically anywhere you walk