51. Slow Growing Pains
It’s Fall and we’ve had quite a year on the farm in 2025.
First, if you read my previous blog entry, the Trump Administration has made lots of problems for farmers and conservationists (and various others who work in service to We the People), so while my organization was lucky enough to bounce back with an 11th hour funding agreement from NRCS for a 21 month contract to assist their District Conservationists, my mental health this year has been less-than-ideal. I’ve been in a fug of depression that has kept me from farm success (financially) and efficiency, choosing instead to pupate beneath the covers every chance I get. And I’m just now able to reach the surface from the bottom of a murky malaise, and take a breath with the intention of revving up for a heady fall and winter production schedule that will hopefully reinvigorate my ability to get ‘er done. Plus, we added two kunekune pigs (Kit & Dottie), four St. Croix sheep (Lena, Iris, Gidget, and Eva), four French Toulouse geese (Bernard, Joan, Winnie, & Estelle), and about a million baby chicks.
So while I’ve added a lot to the animal side of the farm, engaging in Managed Intensive Rotational Grazing (MIRG) and throwing around cover crops for better soil health, the vegetable side of the business took a hit over the summer, and I’m trying to bounce back in the next couple of months. And build another high tunnel. And build a hedgerow and pollinator habitat over this fall and winter. And build better pasture forage for the animals. And get on the chicken tractor bandwagon to complete that multi-species rotation. Sigh. A farmer’s work is never done, right?
That’s the farm update, I think, in a nutshell.
The house projects continue to put us in a state of constant construction, where the dumpster rental people have stopped charging us a delivery fee because we order from them so often, and the lumber delivery people know our property (and animals). But the process, like on the farm, is so very slow. I’ve got my fingers crossed that we can take down the last wall sometime this fall or winter, and then begin on the ceiling tear-out and vaulted renovation come spring. But hey, who knows what that timeline will be in a couple of months. We’re barreling toward WWIII and another civil war, but hey, who can tell out here in rural America? If I don’t pay attention to the news, I can ostrich it up and pretend like everything is fine. It’s FINE!
At the end of the day, it’s good to put my hands in the soil, smell the sheep, give the pigs a scratch, and comfort myself in stewarding my small slice of land with the reminder that we all belong to each other, and we owe it to ourselves and our Earth to take care of one another, because there is no separation, no matter how much we spin it to try.