This week on the farm...

written by

Amy Forsyth

posted on

March 8, 2025


What a great week we had on the farm. The warmer days lifted our spirits and put a little pep in our step. Our lambing season wrapped up, leaving us with 15 beautiful, unique, and healthy lambs. We had zero losses and no complicated births, couldn't have asked for a better season! Cannot wait to get them all out to pasture and watch them flourish. We welcomed 2 pregnant sows (female pigs) to the farm this week! We named them Thelma and Louise, and they are super sweet and huge, weighing in at around 500 pounds. These mamas are due mid to late April, hopefully with 8-12 piglets each. This is a totally new experience for us, but we are excited to venture into pig breeding and all that it will hold. Stay tuned for piglet updates! 

Our seeding greenhouse is singing with life, as our onions grow by the minute, our tomato plants enjoy their new pots, and our pea shoots steal the show each week. We are also experimenting growing baby greens, arugula, tat soi, and salad in lifted tables. We don't have a greenhouse set up yet to grow early greens so we are getting creative with what we have to get greens out to our community!

This spring will be filled with greenhouse building, fence building, and just getting things all set up. We have a lot to do but we have done it before and will do it again, this time for our very own farm, imagine that.

Overall, farm life has been pretty good to us thus far, and we know will only get better! Cheers to the upcoming season and the deliciousness it will hold. 

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.