4 Weeks Old and ready for some pasture To get them there we must 1. Repair the newer Salatin-style pen and 2. Rehab the older, snow-damaged one into a portable shelter on wheels. We’d better get after it then. Put yer gloves on and come on out.
Welcome back to The Vicarious Farmer. It’s a bite-size serving of farmdom: a string of fresh photos from the Acres, perhaps a pocket full of words to ruminate on. The Vicarious Farmer is you, perched on my shoulder for a glimpse of the day-to-day goings-on of this little farmette - the idyllic and the banal. Today’s installment takes note of
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Welcome back to The Vicarious Farmer. It’s a bite-size serving of farmdom, featuring a fresh photo from the Acres and a pocket full of words to ruminate on. The Vicarious Farmer is you. Imagine yourself perched on my shoulder for a snapshot of the day-to-day goings-on of this little farmette - the idyllic and the banal. Getting the water from
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These cabbages were truly the pride of my garden this year. Started from seed, grown so big and lovely…the garden is quite lackluster now without them. Now they patiently wait in the cool of the basement till the Kraut King arrives with his trusty shredder, stone crock, and sack full of salt. I am waiting for the trumpet blast which
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I’ve tried recruiting the chickens to manage the massive crop of wriggling larvae (think young flies) that have sprouted in our new chicken-bits-and-sheep-manure compost pile. (If ever there was a day to be glad to be on your side of the computer, rather than mine, perhaps this is one. If you’re squeamish, that is.) So I invited the chickens over
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We are left with overwhelming weariness from an exceptionally intense weekend. For Andrew and I, it was the laborious, systematic, uh, transitioning of our broiler chickens from the pasture into our chest freezers. (If I see one more chicken lung this week, I swear I’m gonna… 141 birds = 282 lungs) For the kids, the intense weariness was brought on
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Welcome to the launch of a new series – The Vicarious Farmer. It’s a bite-size serving of farmdom, featuring a fresh photo from the Acres and a pocket full of words to ruminate on. Five Green Acres Lite, if you will, or a little farm meditation. The Vicarious Farmer is you. Imagine yourself perched on my shoulder for a snapshot
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