Speak Friend and Enter--

You've made it this far! You probably didn't hear about this blog from the internet, which means you've found us through our website, www.sabbath.farm. I'll be using this space to give farm updates, musings, and other things I think you might want to know about.

For my first "share", I'd like to point you to this great read on the history of food by Ruth Reichl, who has been writing about food in America for the last 50 years! The realities of food that she writes about, specifically that food has become more industrialized, tasteless, and unhealthy for us and the planet, are realities that have made us want to start a farm that will be different than the status quo.

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This is Just to Say: pt 3 in How I Became the Hog Farmer's Wife

A year or so ago I checked in with my good friend Diane, who wanted to know how I had spent a recent afternoon without my children. To her approval, I shared that I had spent the afternoon at the local independent bookstore and had walked away with a treasure. A fellow reader, she got that twinkle in her eye as she asked me what I had brought home. "Two cookbooks" I said, having spent an hour or so in the bowels of the small bookstore basement, perusing, getting lost really, in their cookbook section. Her response was unexpected. "Oh," she said, her expression almost sinking. You did? It's laughable to me now, though at the time I felt a little bit of shame (though none was intended from her) at having spent my precious moments looking at cookbooks instead of poetry (what she expected me to have looked at) or fiction (what she would've liked to have looked at)...I felt a bit sheepish, like the good fiction student who goes through the whole of his graduate

Prayer after eating

Hello friends! It has been an eventful few days, with our first hog going to market sooner than expected, and the rest of them going yesterday. Last Sunday, a week before the scheduled "to market" date for the hogs, it became quickly apparent that Spot, one of our two male hogs, had injured his leg. First he was limping, and then he wasn't moving much, and then not at all; temperatures were lower last week but still sunny, and we had real worries about him getting to water and food. We were so close to "surviving" our first season of raising hogs without any major events (save two escapes) and now this. I was stressed out and spent many a sleepless night praying Psalm 127 to walk myself down from the ledge. Dave got in touch with a mobile processor who agreed to come out to our farm later in the week. In the meantime we would take Spot a chafing pan full of water and a plastic sled that we would put his feed into. (He did try to sit in the chafing pan, which w

The Hog Farmer's Wife

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