This paradigm of humbly acknowledging room for continuous growth rather than expounding on current successes is common in agriculture.
So when your “better” half seeds 600 areas of hemp (yes, the non-medicinal look alike to marijuana) around your house it stimulates interesting conversation at home and in town.
I feel like Dorothy – a young (well ok, youngish) girl plucked from the reality based pragmatic world of the farm – and dropped into Oz where fantasy, fiction, and myths are accepted as reality. My proverbial tornado is the media storm that is swirling around antibiotic use in livestock. The insanity hit a new…
Miracle cure-all! Saves millions of lives every year! Drink this life-giving, fulfilling, natural, nourishing to guarantee health. What’s the catch? It’s seasonally available and even then, supply is limited. Honest! This really exists in the real world. What would you give to try it? What if I told you that I have witnessed almost immediate…
My vision was to invite you into our farm to share what we do and why we do it. I don’t want there to be anything on my farm that I cannot talk about.
We all love the opportunity to publically announce we are an idiot – right? Well, here I am. I walked right into it. First, to understand this, you need to understand my twitter policy. I don’t retweet things without reading and looking at them. No matter how enticing the title sounds I’m not going to…
Hunger is against my values.
….in half an hour I ran around enough barley to make 3.5 MILLION bottles of beer.
AND WE DIDN’T EVEN THROW A PARTY!
“How else are you going to get it out of the shell?” I ask myself. Telekinesis?
I am optimistic that by sharing our stories we will come to see all food has more in common than the labels used to distinguish it.
I won’t shy away from tough questions… you know… the topics with no polite answer. (Case in point, I found myself explaining why bull testicle size is important to the guests at our Christmas dinner).
These are my girls. Aren’t they beautiful?