It's no surprise that I grew up to be a farmer. Let me rephrase that, in my last post I talked about how farming found me, and how it wasn't my fault, I didn't actively seek out farming. But if you peered into my childhood, you would see a little girl who loved animals, a little girl who played with worms and bees, and bugs of all sorts. Including hosting snail races with my Cousin Sandra. A little girl, who was meant to be a farmer. I remember making potions with Sandra by p

It's funny when you think about it really. That is, how I got my start in farming. It was really a bunch of odd circumstances, and coincidences that came together, that I guess you could call fate. I won't rewind all the way to the beginning. But, I will say that, I had never ever considered being a farmer when I grew up. I was a beach bunny in Southern California. I grew up swimming in the ocean, searching for sand dollars, and tanning on the beach. It's true, I imagined mys

I've been a chicken owner for over nine years, I've been through several breeds, some farming triumphs and naturally as with any farm some tragedies. I love farm fresh eggs, but over the last year or so my egg count had diminished. Partly due to having some older girls, and partly due to having some egg eaters. Moving our homestead this past summer didn't help either. My chickens were at a friends house for two months, and eggs weren't being collected there with all the chaos