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
Slow down, Shaye. Just slow the heck down. Breathe, Mama, just breath. In. Out. Breeeeeeeeeeeathe. Last week, I took my own advice, and followed through with deep, satisfying breaths. I happened to be out with my animals when I began encouraging myself. It’d be a hectic morning, after a hectic trip to Montana, and we’d
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.
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.
I swear, y’all. You cannot even make this stuff up. Farm life… home life… they continue to just leave me speechless. Ya, speechless. Or screaming. Either one. So take a walk with me down the lane, while we sip on some (potentially spiked) iced chai teas and I’ll tell you a story… While making our
A reader once told me that the veil between life and death was so sheer thin, it almost made it impossible to breathe. Last night, as I held our dead lamb in my arms, I knew exactly what she meant. My initial response was anger. Anger at the situation, anger that there was nothing I
It’s amazing to me that after two years of life on our farm, we’ve yet to welcome any new animals via birth on The Elliott Homestead. We should have had a calf by now, but since our first cow Kula never was able to get bred, we’re still a bit behind on the calving schedule,
Here’s how to butcher a lamb… 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
I showed up at my parents house last night for supper, battered, bruised, and on the verge of tears. They, as always, ushered me in, handed me a cold beer, entertained my children, and allowed me to vent. You see, sometimes homegirl needs to just some things off her chest. Sometimes, it’s gotta get out