two litters of piglets battle for top spot

in an attempt to out class each other, our two litters of piglets—the dark ones, purebred berkshires, and the spotted ones, tamworth/berkshire crosses—have been going head-to-head in non stop competition to determine which litter is the king of pork chop hill.

below is a pair of photos from the sleeping competition, which came just after nipple sucking and right before nipple sucking. 

is the winner the spotted tam/berk crosses, performing a classic stack and sleep?  or is it the purebred berks, performing the rarely seen batpig pile on?  you be the judge.

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what do ya know

ever since i left brooklyn, and my life got flipped, turned upside down, my sense of awareness has changed in previously unthinkable ways.  farming, which relies heavily on a sense of perception, has given me an appreciation for the tiniest minutiae of every day life.  small, in between moments.  blink moments.  background sounds.  and breaths.  in fact, in this way farming is similar to stock trading.  both require the ability to absorb a swarm of fleeting information which is to be processed through intuition.  respond to without hesitation. immediate, real time, problem solving.  always trying to be right more than wrong. 

down in georgia, my favorite examples of these moments are those that affirm to me that—yes, holy shit, i’m really farming.  there are obvious signs too, of course.  you know, like when i ride a tractor, have a fridge that looks like this, or walk out onto my deck at home to water hundreds of feet of future delicious organic vegetables.  current status:  be-be.   

but like i said, i find the sweetest moments to be the one’s in between.  when you water the vegetable starts, it produces a sound i’ve never heard before, but now love.  the trays of starts, laying side by side, with holes in their bottoms, get watered for a solid few minutes.  some of the water falls in between the trays, some on the plants.  some pools in the tiny soil cups, some drizzles through.  as the drips drop, and splat into nothing, the sound it makes is the quietest waterfall you’ll ever hear.  a cascade—not of heavy flow—but of drops.  a cascading of pit-pit-pit’s to the ground in the most soothing of displays. 

at that moment, i know i’m farming. 

CIVIL eats

follow the link to read an article i wrote for civil eats.  for those who don’t know, it’s a website which promotes “critical thought about sustainable agriculture and food systems as part of building economically and socially just communities.”

my article is an answer to the question:  why do i think so many young people such as myself are all of a sudden interested in farming.  it’s included in a civil eats series calledyoung farmers unite. 

here’s what i had to say:  civil eats

yee-haw

this is as close as we come to some real deal, yee-haw, cowboy antics.  a three hundred yard cow move, bringing the herd home to welcome the new arrivals.  we are taking advantage of this moment of integration—new steers—to accomplish a couple other things on the list.  one, we are sending them from one side of the farm, all the way to the opposite end of the pasture—grass they haven’t grazed in many months.  secondly, we are providing the herd with an exercise on running everyone to home base.  never a bad thing to master.

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piglets join general population, humans make funny noises

another graduating class of piglets make their first little hoof prints on the rough streets of general population. as they leave the small piglet pen they have inhabited for the last month, they are leaving behind their entire world.  it’s all they know. 

knew. 

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gorgeous fall day

today i went to work in this monet painting above.  finally, a month after it was expected, fall has arrived.  the pastures out on fowler farms made it through the long hot summer, and with the recent showers they are ready to POP.

three steers came home from the sale barn today, and made a smooth transition onto the property.  they gathered in the corner of their gorgeous grassy pad (with a view), and poured one out for their homies.  nameless soldiers that just last night stood hip to hip, cheek to cheek, and face to ass with them, are all in route to feedlots and factories—but not these three. 

how do you think they’re doin’ right now?