To cook is to be human.

There really is nothing better than spring on the farm because it usually means one thing (mainly): farm babies. Tiny beacons of hope and joy help us all to round the corner of winter and usher in spring with a bit more, well, spring in our step.

I like having muffins on hand whenever possible for an easy after school snack or breakfast component. These particular muffins remind me of spring with just the right amount of zip from the lemon, and pops of sweet blueberry. Just, the best!

I sold my two milk cows. Here's why:

Tearing out, rebuilding, finding joy in the small things.

A little about finding our way with pigs...

Autumnal ramblings and farm updates. And Wendell Berry.

The realest farming there is.

The farm remains a steady assessment of time passing, something reliable in its unpredictability.

This particular turn of season, summer to fall, always feels so pronounced, so momentous, it cannot be passed by without a little reflection and gratitude.

In which I write about the merits of our strange island pig, the KuneKune.

Reverence for the weight of responsibility to earn the submission and trust of a cow as her delight, not her defeat.

I could hear the old noisy diesel truck circling the country block nearly a mile away. I will never forget that sound. It was 3 AM. Finally, headlights.