In our culture, we tend to view eating as a recreational rather than a utilitarian experience—to ask, "What do I want to eat?" rather than "What is there to eat?"
For us, this has changed this year as we embarked upon a learn-as-you-go crash course in feeding ourselves from our smallholding. The process was complicated by the fact that we had no farm infrastructure to start with. Before we could plant anything we had to create planting beds out of hayfield, without the assistance of mechanized equipment. And bringing in livestock required fencing pastures and building shelters for chickens, goats, and sheep. Further complications arose from the need to finish the exterior cordwood walls of our house before frost.
And then there were the rats.
". . . in rural communities there are still farms and small businesses that can be changed according to the will and the desire of individual people. . . . by the ancient rule of neighborliness, by the love of precious things, and by the wish to be at home." — Wendell Berry*
January 17, 2011
January 9, 2011
Brown-One's reprieve
After watching the other male sheep banish Brown One to the elements during the last blizzard while they stayed snug in their shelter, we took pity on him and moved him into the ewes' winter paddock. At first I did not think this was going to go very well, either,
December 27, 2010
One brown sheep
There is a roaring blizzard outside right now. I awoke on and off during the night, listening to the howling wind and the sleet and snow rattling against the window, worrying about the animals, as I always do during harsh weather. I pictured the buck shelter picked up and tossed by the wind, leaving the bucks exposed and possibly injured. I got up, opened the back door with some difficulty against the drifting snow, and peered into the darkness.
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