Holy crap I love pickles. I don’t care if Portlandia made it funny and fashionable to bash the brine lovers of the world, I wear my pickle pride … with pride. And so, when I saw that Cousin Lisa had crates of cucumbers for sale at the Dorset Farmers’ Market last Sunday, I blurted out, “Holy crap…
Back in my web programming/marketing/design days, I sat. A lot. Almost all day, in fact. The things that you would expect to happen, happened: I got fat. I got slow. I had chest pains and leg pains and problems sleeping. I was angry a lot. I was addicted to beeps and pings and bright screens—the brighter…
With two incredibly successful batches of chickens under our belt for the season, our freezers are packed to the top with some of the happiest, healthiest, most-carbon-sequestery chickens Vermont has ever seen. We’re incredibly proud of the work these birds did for the land while they were with us, and we’re just thrilled with the…
For a few years now, Cally and I have been tossing around the idea of bringing sheep here to the farm to compliment the work that the poultry is doing in our pasture (soil) rehabilitation program. The advantages were clear: But, because we’re incredibly careful people—and despite thoughtful encouragement from elders we trust—we hadn’t braved the plunge…
Last year, as one of our early pastured meat experiments, we raised four Gloucestershire Old Spot pigs from Hidden Nest Farm in Argyle, New York. As we strive to provide any animal we bring onto this farm with a full, safe, and interesting life, we circled a 1.5 acre hillside—complete with an old horse stall, trees,…
It is March 18th here in Vermont, and while all the bitter dispositions of Vermonters are slowly warming, the temperature outside is decidedly not. It is an 18° Windsday today—the wind is cutting straight through wool, beards, and bone. It turned out to be fortunate, however, that the weather is so bitter, because had it been pleasant—and had I…