I used to do this thing where I’d buy a new journal, write very enthusiastically for a few days, then set the journal aside until something major happened that I wanted to document. Weeks or months would go by between entries until the journal got filled up, I bought a new one, and the cycle repeated. I started this blog after months of being in lockdown, wrote very enthusiastically for a while, and…well, you see where this is going.

In the time since I last posted, lots of life has happened. The goats turned 1 last month, we got 3 new ducklings (from McMurray Hatchery), we built a new vegetable garden. But something else happened when I wasn’t looking for it: a rhythm started taking shape in our daily life. Somewhere over the past 5 years, A and I have choreographed a dance of sorts as we go about our daily farm chores and plan for the season ahead. And each season has a dramatic change from the one before, requiring new tools, different clothing (though I am still wearing a beanie), and always bringing its own unique gifts. January, we’ve discovered, is a fantastic opportunity to catch up on sleep, on quality time together, and compare notes on what we hope to accomplish in the coming year. By the end of February, I’m busy locating all of my seed packets like a scatter-brained squirrel and amending to-do lists and garden charts. I’ve had a goal each year of planting fewer vegetables (or at least planting fewer varieties), to streamline the process of tending to the individual needs of each one. Somehow, that goal has inverted to include not only more plants but more varieties of each. (And more grow lights. Always more grow lights.) After 4 separate orders from Johnny’s Seeds from November to March, I cut myself off and decided that if it wasn’t already in hand, it wasn’t getting in the ground this year. And despite the mice digging up the squash seeds from my seed trays THREE TIMES, I didn’t order more. Which is why we’ll have lots of delicata this year (I had an extra seed packet), but no acorn. C’est la vie. Luckily, I love delicata and recently had a scrummy appetizer of fried delicata rings at our friend’s restaurant, The Queensboro, which I hope to recreate at home.

In March and April, in between planting trays of vegetables, the gardens themselves needed A LOT of tending. Weeks and weeks of leaf blowing, weeding, and pruning tree limbs. And then hauling everything off to the transfer station or our compost heap. We set a goal to do it all ourselves this year with no outside help which felt like a logical decision as I’m working fewer side hustles this year and can spend more time at home. But I won’t lie- it’s been tough work. We’re still battling a lot of bittersweet snaking its way up from the woods through the garden. And the bracken fern are still popping up in the future goat pasture, despite 2 years of my cutting it back when it pokes through. Bracken fern are highly toxic to goats and also really hard to eradicate once established. And we’re committed to not using harsh chemicals anywhere on the homestead, especially on anything our animals or wildlife would ingest. So now we’re wondering if we have to wait even longer to get the new pasture ready for the girls, which isn’t the worst thing. But it would be nice to set up a rotational grazing plan and also give them some newer, greener pasture.

Maybe it was because I was elbows-deep in the gardens this year as soon as the snow melted, or maybe it’s finally been long enough that I think of them as “mine,” not something I merely inherited, but I felt a new confidence and decisiveness as Garden Conductor this year. A and I dug up huge bushes that were unsightly and unnecessary (IMHO), and replaced them with lavender. I transplanted some peonies that were crowded and spread them out so they could breathe. We grabbed the chainsaw and ladder and took down some spindly volunteer trees. And, maybe most bold of all, we had our neighbor use his tractor to dig up a scrubby patch of weeds next to our house and we built a sloped garden with raised beds, a bird fountain, and solar lights that looks so, so beautiful at night when we’re coming back to the house after putting the animals in. A few of the beds are for flowers (check out Apricot and Valkyrie asters on the Johnny’s Seeds website- they’re gorgeous), and the rest are for herbs or asparagus and strawberries. So far, Sadie hasn’t trampled anything in there, despite chasing a few bunnies around (or THROUGH!), the beds.

I used to be adamant that my favorite time of year was the fall: I adored the apple/pumpkin/sweater-ness of it all and the mindset of getting ready to hunker down for a cozy season of school and holidays and hygge. (I’m of Scandinavian descent so I think I can use that term in a non-trendy way.) It’s now clear to me that spring is where it’s at- despite the lingering chill in late May. While winter doesn’t get me down exactly, it is long and grey in upstate NY. I start to forget what spring looks like, let alone the fecund explosion of color and life in summer. So those first few daffodils peering out from the snow or the tender green that bends from the trays of soil have a magical, almost spiritual, essence. And the power of something as small as a kale seed to become food a few months later is nothing short of miraculous. As a small being myself, relatively speaking, it helps me inhabit my own sense of power.

My humility, on the other hand, comes from the animals. The ducks are pretty much the same now as when we got them (skittish and noisy), and so far tolerating the younger models on the other side of the fence. They seem to know when I’ve come home because I can hear them quacking as soon as I get out of the car and see them running toward the gate because they know I’ll throw them mealworms or weeds. They were a bit late in producing to help out with the rising egg costs late this winter, but they’re making up for it now, so we’ll forgive them. Sadie is nothing short of a marvel. She’ll hear the particular sound of the ducks in their pool getting frisky (they’re all females but…nature), and go running to break it up. (No sex in the pool!) Our duck, Judy, had a slipped wing as a result of this “exercise” last year and it never recovered. So now Sadie knows to put a stop to that hanky panky before it gets out of hand. She has also deftly handled not one but two goat escapes. I should clarify: one goat, two escapes. (EVA!) Sadie discovered Eva standing quite contentedly outside of her pen, just on the other side of the gate she had squeezed through. As A watched, Sadie ran in slow circles around Eva, keeping her contained and gently urging her back toward the gate where he could get her safely back in. This happened twice over the course of 4 months. The first time showed us we needed a latch on the lower half of the gate so Eva couldn’t push it open. The second time showed us that I need to pay attention lest I forget to close said latch. Oops. I’ve also noticed that Sadie has a subtle, but definite habit. She stays a few feet away from me wherever I might be in the gardens or barns, but facing the opposite direction. When I pick up and move to another spot, so does she. If I go in the house she’ll usually stay curled up on the back patio but jumps up as soon as I come back out and escorts me to my next chore. And chaperones me the entire time. It’s beautiful. I love that dog.

Now the update I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for: The Goats. I’ve wanted to have goats for a long time and have been curious about them for even longer. It’s been the big goal off in the distance, one that I was equally terrified and excited about. When a close family member of mine died in the fall of 2023, I faced a lot of thoughts about bucket-list sorts of things. And raising my own goats was at the very top of the list. Obviously you know we took the leap. But what none of us knew was just how much we would fall in love with our two girls. Or how social, unique, and entertaining they are! They are incredibly mischievous, particularly when we’re trying to build or fix something within their reach. They’re obsessed with the wheelbarrow. They have their own individual dances they do when we bring out a fresh flake of hay. And maybe best of all, they love to cuddle if I lie down with them. I even bought a used camping cot to bring out so there when I need them to climb all over me. We just had their annual checkup with our farm vet who said they look and feel perfect (maybe she said, “great” but I think she meant “perfect.”). She discussed breeding options for the fall and I’m again equally terrified and excited. Not for the first time, I’m grateful we ended up on a property with outbuildings where we can make the necessary preparations for kidding season and then the raising of the kids! (I sense another use for the camping cot when I sleep out in the barn next spring waiting for labor to start…)

We’re all in a comfortable, companionable stride these days. We’re always striving for that balance of hard work and stillness. For now, we’re happy with the groove we’re in. But knowing our “can’t-stop-won’t-stop” personalities, we’ll add more to the mix soon… So stay tuned!