Jamie is a gentle giant of a breeding boar.
Katie rudely calls him "Sausage Roll" due to his tubular shape and also, ya know, he's made of sausage.
We think he and Halvah have another family of piglets on the way in July.
I planted 18 cotton seeds. Everyone (three of you) wanted to know what I would do with my abundant cotton harvest.
Never fear; there will be no excess cotton to brush and spin.
Here's the 1 out of 18 cotton plants to sprout, circled in yellow. The rest molded.
On the bright side, surrounding the lone cotton seedling are a bunch of happy little "Virginia Select" Amish Paste tomato seedlings that will grow up to make a year's supply of ketchup and tomato sauce for us.
I've decided to post more honestly here. Not that my posts are ever dishonest, but you certainly get a one-sided view of farm life.
A mother once told me to be sure I don't post graphic or sad things because she shows the blog to her children.
But the un-fun times are real, and knowing about them is only fair.
So here's a pic to sum up the impending Arctic weather and our desperation for the sun and her warmth.
We've ("we" in this sense meaning my kids and my husband) been scrambling to get extra hay to the horses and cows and shoring up all of the animals' shelters for the predicted frigid weather.
(Be glad you get to look at unhappy Kate during chores. It was either this or a photo of the broiler chicken who died under the horse trailer.)
Here are illustrations of things that will never get done at my farm.
In the bleak darkness that is January, I always imagine grand schemes for a garden that will actually produce food that I, in turn, will actually harvest and "put up."
I'm a terrible gardener. This year I ordered a book which will make a good gardener out of me.
When, and only when, I master the contents of this book, I will allow myself to order the seed catalog!
Our momma hen is back to laying eggs. In the cat's house. On the front porch. But we have eggs again, so that's all that matters.
And here's a duck egg from Pip thrown in for good measure.
It was a bad feeling to be buying eggs from the store for holiday baking.
There's simply no comparison between the bland store bought and the dark colored, flavorful home grown eggs.
God bless you, poultry, every one!