Thanksgiving started as a holiday where families came together to share a meal and celebrate all of the things they were thankful for in life.
Finding a suitable location to plant the seed cloves was going to be a challenge during what may become the wettest year on record.
Brittni and I looked at one another and an image of the room with new cabinets and countertops, a large white farmhouse sink, and a kitchen island with a range and overhead hood above flashed through my mind.
Roxette, who I soon realized would have been more suit to the name Roxanne, found her way over the four-foot fence the day after she was moved in. I came home from work to find her and Johnny strutting through the tall grass behind the pen.
With the lack of an actual “Farm” at this time, Brittni and I have decided to establish ourselves in a way that our current space allows.
The aroma of hot, fresh popcorn and warm apple cider tempted our senses as we walked in and perused the selection of home made wreaths, ladders, and rustic decor.
Although I find peace in it, watching chickens for relaxation seems equal in insanity to taking a yoga class with a goat on your back.
Not knowing much about raising and caring for chicks, we did the reasonable thing and got 10 of them.
The man explained the methods used to grow garlic and explained the business model surrounding it. As my father retold the ways of the garlic farmer, I became intrigued to do some research of my own.
The Best Part of Waking Up is a Farmer in your Cup
High Altitude Homesteading
Ideas for places to visit in the Midwest
Life on the family farm