A day in the life of a farmer...

written by

Amy Forsyth

posted on

August 23, 2025

A day in the life of a farmer you ask?

A simple answer would not suffice. I could say we wake with the sun, have coffee, collect eggs for breakfast, tend to our animals, harvest beautiful crops, hay fields, sell our bounty at markets, enjoy the simple life that is very much romanticized. The truth is…

A day in the life of a farmer is a dream but far from a typical dream I like to say. It is a dream soaked in growth, challenge, simplicity, mundane, beauty, chaos, over and over and over again.

It is waking with the purpose to tend, to feed, to grow, to steward for something bigger than yourself, rain or shine, hell or high water.  

Each day is unique, and never like yesterday, which I believe is the most beautiful part of farming.

Some days its bottle feeding a new born lamb, seeding trays with hope of growth, relieving crops from weeds so that they can thrive, rotating our sheep and cows to fresh pasture, laughing at the pigs playing in the mud, listening to the quiet hums of life growing around us.

Some days it’s cursing the skies, fighting equipment, chasing escaped animals, feeling exhausted, saying goodbye to animals we have loved, hanging onto faith, accepting defeat.

We find structure in the truths of farming, we must take care of the life we are responsible for, our animals and crops. We also live by our own truth which is we must provide the highest quality food we can for our beloved community, honestly and humanely. With these truths our days are found educating ourselves, learning from trial and error, relishing in what works, and continuing to be better.

So…a day in the life of a farmer you ask?

Is walking in the known and unknown at the same time. Is knowing well enough and not enough. Is mastering your trade only to then master another one. It is understanding when to surrender and when to gain control. It is simply living day to day right alongside nature in hopes it’ll teach you everything you need to know. I will leave you with this, a day in the life of a farmer will be a day you are never sorry for.

More from the blog

Saying goodbye.

People ask if it gets easier. It doesn’t. You just get better at carrying it. The guilt dulls to a workable ache, like a joint that predicts rain. You learn to separate the animal from the meat in your freezer without lying to yourself. You remember their lives, their heart, and you’re grateful in a complicated way. Farming is a long conversation between care and necessity. Raising animals for food means promising them a good life and a swift, respectful death. Most days the promise feels honorable. Loading day it feels like betrayal. Both are true.I used to want to detach myself from the reality of it, but I realize that it's actually not detachment that eases it, it’s the opposite. It’s knowing them so well that their leaving is stitched into every day they’re here. The joy of a lamb kicking its heels for the first time, the friendly glance and nods from our cows, the soft snorgles and oinks from our pigs—these are the same thread that pulls tight on processing day. You don’t cut the thread. You let it run through your hands until it’s done. Processing day forces you to confront the realities of ethical eating. In a world where meat often arrives pre-packaged and disconnected from where they came from, we've chosen a different way. We know exactly how our animals were treated—kindly, respectfully, without the horrors of industrial farms. Yet, the act itself is bittersweet, a reminder that every meal carries a story, a sacrifice. It's why we pause before each meal, why we waste nothing, and why we commit to doing better each year: rotating pastures, improving infrastructure, ensuring compassionate ends. To anyone reading this who simply wants to understand the farm-to-table truth: it's not glamorous, but it's profound. It deepens your appreciation for the land, the animals, and the quiet strength required to honor both. This isn't just about survival; it's about living in harmony with nature's rhythms, even when they break your heart a little.