Welcome to Forsyth Family Farm

written by

Amy Forsyth

posted on

January 15, 2025

Welcome to our first blog post! I wanted to start off by saying hello, we are Farmer Amy and Farmer Kyle, owners/farmers of Forsyth Family Farm. We just moved to Gilford, NH for a fresh start to have our very own farm. We are leasing farmland that was previously Timber Hill Farm and will hopefully (soon) be purchasing the land for our forever farming career. We have been career farmers for a while now, Farmer Kyle well over a decade (almost 2!)  and I myself am coming up on 6 years. We pride ourselves in being regenerative farmers, giving back to the land with practices like rotational grazing, intensive crop rotation, cover crops, and using composted manure for vegetable production. We honor what is provided by nature, leaving herbicides, pesticides, antibiotics, and added hormones completely out of our farm operation. 

Oh how excited we are to be here, and to continue to farm on. This is going to be an incredible journey filled with richness, challenge, joy, and so much more. Thank you for being here and we will be sharing all the highs and lows and in-betweens on this blog weekly, so follow along!

Off to feed the sheep and tuck everyone in for the night.

With love, 

Farmer Amy 

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.