Self-taught farmers confidently raising chickens, ducks, geese, and pigs. Our focus is on practices that are environmentally harmonious and respectful to our livestock. We appreciate the beauty around us, clean eating, fermenting, and responsibly utilizing the bounty of the land. If you like thinking for yourself, continuous learning, and connecting with the homesteader lifestyle, check us out.
Early this morning, I was behind the house, looking at a newly-established bird’s nest, when I heard leaves rustling. I figured it was a robin, searching for bugs under the dead leaves…until a rabbit appeared and casually hopped away from me. That was not what I was expecting to see.
Continue reading “Around The Farm: A Real Easter Bunny”
It’s the second candling, roughly halfway through the incubation period. There’s good news and bad news, but overall, it’s looking very good.
Continue reading “Incubation Update: Pilgrim Goose Eggs – Second Candling”
Among the growing grass littered with tiny flowers, where it’s quiet and dewy, violence occurred. All that was left as testament to the life of a rabbit was bits of velvety brown fur; of a songbird, bright yellow feathers, strewn upon the ground.
Continue reading “Haiku: Evidence Of Endings”
Our lovely ladies have been laying, reliably, so I was able to collect a dozen huge eggs in short order. With luck and lots of hand-turning (and misting and cooling), goslings will emerge in a few more weeks!
Continue reading “In The Incubator: The Year’s First Pilgrim Goose Eggs”
The vernal equinox has officially occurred, and it’s a sunny, warm, and exquisitely pleasant day. The daffodils knew – they suddenly burst from the sullen ground, their smiling faces beaming from the still-austere brown vegetation surrounding them. Trust the daffodils.
Continue reading “Spring Is Here: The Daffodils Know”
Just because someone dies, their presence doesn’t simply disappear – sometimes, loved ones may visit in dreams or appear in daydreams. I often “see” one particular soul, missed dearly, in manifestations of nature…I think of her daily, though she has not been here now for years. And I will think of her until I am no longer here.
Life is a dichotomy of joy and sorrow, each (unfortunately) seemingly in fairly equal measure, and not subject to our will. I will not avoid sorrow because doing so means I also avoid joy. I’ll hold fast to the joy and hope the sorrow simply crashes over me like waves at the shore: they may batter me, but I’ll get back up, shake the sand out of my suit, and be glad that I had the chance to swim in the glorious sea.