Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Running Into The Storm

I don’t like running, let’s start with that. It hurts. It’s hard. And it stirs up the same feelings in my physiology as a panic attack. When I run my heart races, I break into a sweat, and the stress wears me down until it stops being about making it the next mile and starts being about making it to that next tree. I don’t like running. It’s awful.

But I like having had run.

And so that is why I was running down my mountain road today. I was making good time and feeling strong, which is easy to do when you are running downhill. I was nearly sprinting and I liked feeling strong. It was early enough in the run to be romantic about running. It was 90 degrees on that road and sweat exploded from pours until I was shining like a Goddess from stories of old. The sky was blue. The wind was mild. The day was hot and the earth was dry. All this and I was an animal moving across the landscape and feeling a wonder.

My wonder ceased when I hit the bottom of the mountain and turned around to run back uphill. It’s not far, perhaps a mile and a quarter of winding road but it is relentless in its growling elevation gain. The joy of the run turned into the slow, dogged, crawl of a gal with a decent ass. I started the real work of the outing now, grunting upwards. With my blinders of determination on I didn’t notice how the sky went gray and then black. I didn’t hear the wind in the canopy of maples above me. I didn’t realize the storm was here until the thunder clapped. Then I looked up.

Without thinking about it I picked up my pace. A mile up the mountain, directly west,  and into the darkest of the clouds was my farm. And on that farm the small chickens being raised to feed friends and family were vulnerable. They would need tarps and wind protection if the weather turned fierce. There was a dog who I loved dearly that was scared of thunder and would be shaking next to his usual safe place, the dog crate, which was being used by a pair of sleeping goat kids with bellies full of milk. He wouldn't understand why the world became scary and I wasn't there. I wanted to hug that black fur and tell him he was okay.

There was a place I was needed and a storm was coming. So I ran faster.

I ran up that mountain. I ran until my chest felt it would explode and my feet slipped in the sneakers from the slick sweat. It was not a sprint, just the fast jog me and my decent ass could manage, but one that caused my sides to ache and frame to rattle. I ran into that wind, into the dark clouds, and uphill to the animals I had pledged my service to. Thunder rolled in louder and crows took off from the trees above me. My heart was swelling with a joy I could not place in the pain and concern the weather was invoking. And then I realized that this was all I ever wanted in my entire life. All I ever wanted was to have a place worth running towards. To feel a love worth making your heart explode.

If I am accused of anything it is being irresponsible. I am told I take on too much, follow my passions over the practical, and have fallen in love with my own mythology. Those accusations are 100% correct. I do take on too much. I do follow passion over the practical. And I am COMPLETELY in love with my own mythology. I wish the same for every single one of you. But those choices, however you may feel about them, have brought me to these 6.5 acres and I am still here. Five years of mistakes and success. Three years of self employment scratched out of a hundred disparate income streams from pork shares to logo designs. It is a Wednesday and I am home to run home to chickens and dogs and for that I am grateful beyond measure. There was a time I watched rainstorms behind office windows designed so that people could not open them from the inside. A better woman would have stayed there. I am not the better woman. I'm the better story and that is all I care about.

The heavy-handed metaphor of running into the storm isn't lost on me. For all the joy and satisfaction this life gives me there is intense anxiety over maintaining it. I never know how the next month's bills will be paid. Sometimes too many bills and repairs tumble together at once and it takes a lot to bounce back. I have had my truck threatened to be repossessed. I get scary yellow envelopes over late mortgage payments all the time. As I write this I am behind but I am not worried. I have the absolute faith of the far-too-stubborn that I will figure it out and the house will remain mine. I made it this far. And while it pains me to sell my only fiddle it would pain me a lot more to go back to a life where windows don't open. I'd rather starve under a bridge than go back there, and that conviction is exactly why I never will. This farm has been my Heaven, my Narnia, my Mordor, and my Hell. But that is a fiction worth making reality. It's something worth understanding and then shrugging off. What matters is that it's mine today. Keeping it mine is the real uphill battle.

All this and I am running. I reach my front lawn and the storm is almost upon the farm. I run to the Freedom Ranger chicks. I cover up their tractors and check on the rest of the animals. They all know the storm is coming. There is electricity in the air and energy in every feather rustle and tail swish. I had another ten minutes (I guessed) before the real storm hit so when all the animals were readied, this animal stripped naked, grabbed a towel, and headed into the forest. As I walked across the lawn I picked up the thick, black, plastic water bag of a solar shower that was laying in the sun all morning. The water was hot inside. I was as excited as a new lover in clean sheets.

I hung the black bag on an apple tree in a clearing behind the barn. I had the privacy of summer, all the trees and rose bushes made a fine screen from the road 100 yards away. I let the warm water rinse the panic off me. I grabbed the small bowl of goats milk soap I kept in a crook of the tree and washed my hair and body. As I washed I felt the wind pick up and droplets of cold rain mix with the sun-warmed water. This combination was pure exhilaration. No one could see me but Merlin, who was already in his pole barn. I laughed out loud there in the forest. Showering outdoors in thunderstorms makes you feel rich.

I crouched down to rinse out my hair and watch the dirt roll off my arms and into the soil. I felt beautiful there. These were the arms of a Storm Runner, a Chicken Protector, a Dark Horse Rider, a Dog Prophet, and Determined Direwolf. I love myself enough to make me laugh sometimes and if that sounds vain I suggest you try it too. Love yourself with abandon naked in the woods where only gods, horses and land wights can whisper about your antics. It's important to love your own story and I make no apology for it.

I looked up from my crouch and saw the back of my red barn the way a coyote or deer would, low and in the bushes. The new perspective made the farm look so much more beautiful to me. The kailyard being gently rained on, the barn and the goats inside, the stories it held and the hundreds of people who had travelled from all over the world to look inside it. People who came to see this mythical place where a middleclass woman without a clue made something magical happen. I smiled at the ridiculous thought and felt the poetry of warm water. Once again that feeling of utter wholeness of a goal reached hit me. The beautiful anger of a place worth fighting for filled me. Crouching naked in the rain, warm water down my back, a black horse to my left and a farm before me - built from five years of force and hope...

And it was all I could do to stop my heart from exploding.

Yard Sale!

LOGO SALE  - Morning All! I am offering a sale on Logos (1/3 off the price) to the first four people who take me up on the offer. I got some bad news this week and need to make some sales to keep things okay around here, so if you ever considered a logo know that now is the lowest price I will offer and the need is real. Support a small farmer, keep the dream going, and look good doing it. Professional design does wonders for your brand from the farmer's market to online marketplaces! Email me at for details.

FIDDLE FOR SALE - Also, I am selling my fiddle - which is an acoustic/electric violin that comes with its own travel amp! The amp runs on AA batteries and has a leather banjo strap so you can wear it to busk and play. Asking $400 for the instrument, bow, and amp.

WORKSHOPS ON SALE - There is one spot free for Goats and Soap in July, and one spot free for the 2-day event Arrow's Rising in June! I am willing to offer sale prices on these last spots and offer a discount on the fall fiddle camp in September. Arrow's Rising and the fall camp come with bow or fiddle, and those items alone make up half the price of admission at this rate. So come to the farm! Learn a skill! And support this feral farm gal because by the gods, she needs it :)

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Eating In: Goat Cheese & Spinach Omelet

What you see here is breakfast, an omelet stuffed with fresh goat cheese and spinach. Besides the butter that greased the pan and some salt and pepper, the whole meal came from this farm. That little iron spork, that was hand made by the Blacksmith that came here last fall for Antlerstock. This here was a meal created on a small piece of land and I wanted to share its small story on this warm morning. We'll start out in the kailyard...

Out here behind the barn at Cold Antler Farm there is enough sunlight to grow hardy greens but also plenty of shade, depending on the time of day. Tall locusts hover here and keep the winter greens of the kailyard from bolting too soon. I grow salad greens, peas, kale, broccoli , spinach and cabbage. They do well back here and when weeding is done there are targets (see them there in the background?) for axe throwing and archery. Never a dull moment - or bodkin point - here.

I plucked out a few favorite leaves from the spinach, which is fresh-planted this year and seems to be coming along swimmingly.

I showed off my little harvest to the goats as I walked past their pen on my way back into the farmhouse. After all it was their milk I strained, added culture too, and strained in cheesecloth to make the fresh chevre that would melt inside the omelet alongside the chopped spinach. I told them how beautiful they were. I meant it.

Down at the goats’ feet were this year’s laying hens. Six new additions of the 15 total being raised up to add to my flock of 12. I have a mix of green, blue, brown and white egg layers but right now all my green and blue eggs are being sat on by broody hens so just the white eggs are available. They still are delicious as can be from backyard birds and so I set three of them, my leaves, and a nice chunk of goat cheese on the plate. This would be breakfast in minutes!

And there it is. Eggs from my hens. Spinach from my garden. Cheese from my goats. And a fork from a blacksmith I bartered for a used longbow. You see months of animal care and the birth of this year's kids. You see hours in the kailyard, and the dirty feet I proudly sport unshod. And you you see the simple good that comes from a meal you know so well. Mornings like this, and meals like these, are what make this place worth all the effort! Time to dig in!

Monday, May 25, 2015

Fireflies & Old Guitars

I'm always going to love the anticipation of fireflies and holding old guitars.
Those two things, they're most of me.

One Morning's Milk

What you see here is three half-gallon jars. That's a lot of milk for one morning's chores and two goats! I adore my alpines and am so glad I went with full-sized goats when I got the dairy bug. There is no doubt that Nigerians and Pygmy goats are adorable and cost less to feed and house, but the way I see it - you're already commiting to care for goats so why not get the most return for your time? I'm all about the big girls and their high production of the good stuff! Do any of you have smaller goats? If so, what was your reasoning? I would like to know more about the advantages of smaller breeds.

A gallon and a half is just one part of the day's return. I can't drink that much and only turn a gallon at a time into chevre. So that leaves up to a gallon a day not used. Well, when the piglets come it goes towards their feed and so does the whey from cheese making. Some is frozen for soap making, another profitable item from goats. And lastly, the rest is given to friends and neighbors. My little 2-goat dairy supplies myself, the Wesner's and guests with healthy and fresh raw milk. There's an old saying in Africa that the best place to store extra food is in your friends' stomaches. I feel the same way!

Friday, May 22, 2015


Thrilled to announce that this little girl will be arriving on the east coast in early June. She's a stockdog pup from fine folks out west in Idaho and I was able to do a partial barter for logo design to buy her! (That on top of making small payments over the past few months) I didn't want to announce her until it was a done deal but this little gal is moving in soon and will be such a happy addition to the farm. It's been five years since a puppy was a part of this homestead and it is such a boost of energy, joy, and fun! It's exactly the boost I needed after the last two rough winters and I am beyond excited to raise her. She's named Friday, after a favorite movie of my father's and mine - His Girl Friday. I hope she's just as whip smart, fast-talking, and keeps up with the boys!

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Barn, Sweet Barn.

Photo by Miriam Romais

Cold Fronts & A Dead Chick

So a cold front came through this week, and it had me lighting a fire in the woodstove last night - a seasonal record! Frost warnings littered the weather reports and all after the kailyard, kitchen garden, and little chicks had been growing strong for weeks. Last week days hit nearly 90 degrees and people were tubing down the Battenkill. I wore a hoodie all day yesterday and was torn on wether or not to install heat lamps in the chicken tractors.

I didn't use the heat lamps and they were fine. I did find one dead chick this morning out of the 80 or so chicks in the tractors but I am pretty sure it was the one who seemed to have a broken or non-working leg the night before. In the morning he was gone but the other birds (who are almost all feathered out now) were bright and bushy tailed. They had blankets and tarps over the tractors and insulating hay to sleep on. No one was wet or dew-damp and it was so encouraging to know a chilly night wouldn't bring them low.

Monday, May 18, 2015

Arrows Rising 2015: 2 Spots LEFT!

This June 20th & 21st! There are many spots open for this Summer's Arrow's Rising! For those of you on the fence about taking up traditional archery, I hope you consider this weekend-long event held here at Cold Antler Farm in beautiful June. It's two days of everything traditional, and comes with a longbow (25lb draw) hand crafted in the US by a Veteran. You're not only supporting this business, but his, and taking up a sport people of any age, gender, or size can learn to be fantastic at with practice.

Arrows Rising is the name of the entire weekend, but that Saturday morning will start with a story. I will share my own reasons for taking up archery and it has nothing to do with Katniss, Brave, or the Avengers. I read a book one of you fine Antlers suggested to me several years ago and the the culture of archery and bow making was so rich and storied the bow went from being a weapon to a legend. It didn't take long after reading the first three books in the series that I had looked up some online bowyers and archery supply shops and sent from emails to my local chapter of the Society for Creative Anachronism.

The rest, as they say, is history. A self-made history at that. I've shot on the same traditional team for three years now. I've gone from a girl very low the East Kingdom's rankings with a cheap bow to a Marshal in the Shire of Glenn Linn, and MUCH higher on the rankings list. My love for the sport echoed into a part time job last summer at the British School of Falconry in Manchester, Vermont. There I taught archery professionally, showing folks who never held a bow before the ways of instinctive shooting, safety, and basic practice field commands.

Very much of those lessons will be repeated for these beginners coming to Arrow's Rising. There will be an in-depth talk about equipment, bows and bow types, strings, bow stringing and measuring your bow for your body. We'll talk arrows as well, and how to outfit yourself once you get home. Basic safety equipment will also be covered, and while I will have spare gear to lend I strongly suggest that people attending Arrow's Rising invest in their own hand and arm protection. A simple armguard costs very little as does a finger tab. But really all you need is a sturdy pair of deerskin work gloves, and a long sleeved shirt. These will protect your hands and be very appreciated by Saturday afternoon!

Saturday after equipment is covered we will head outside for safety demonstrations and field rules. Since Cold Antler is built into a mountain and goes through forest and stream side we will have several areas with targets set up. You'll shoot stationary at close range to start, gaining distance and confidence. The first day will end with us sitting under the king Maple out front and reviewing the history and tradition of archery, share our stories of why we came, and relax and rest our arms! A tour of the farm and animals will then happen for all who wish to meet the crew and a campfire will be held that night for folks who want to return for music and more stories. Bring a folding chair and an instrument!

Sunday will begin with a quick review and some more practice. Afterwards we'll try a trekking shoot, where we walk over forest and along the stream hitting smaller targets. You'll learn to shoot through cover, down a ravine, and kneeling as well as the traditional archer's T. There may very well be a demonstration of mounted archery with Merlin!

So that is the plan, the entire weekend come a few weekends from now and again in the fall. I hope to fill up all the spots soon and encourage women, men, teenagers and best friends to sign up together if they want! It's a great bonding experience and a sport many of us can take up at any age. Basketball courts and swimming pools don't really change but the archery field and equipment is made to fit YOU. So do not feel you aren't athletic enough to try. Folks of any size are welcome, I just ask you bring plenty of water, a chair to sit in, and understand we are shooting come rain or shine!

This June 20th & 21st! 
Campfire Sat
No camping on farm
The full price is $350. 
This includes both days and longbow.

Let the grey geese fly!

Email me: to sign up!

Sunday, May 17, 2015

Tiny Flags

This morning is beautiful. After chores were done and the animals were quietly munching and crunching, when the goats were milked and the day was officially on its way—I stopped to look around. The sun was hitting the green grass. Cersei and Jaime were romping around the yard. The ducks waddled past the geese and the chickens in their tractors ate and jumped and drank and napped. Everything seemed perfect. In the next few hours I knew I would do what made me happiest - I would run, shoot arrows, and ride my horse. When I can spend a day moving across the landscape by my body and by horse, and then quiet the mind into the meditation of practicing archery and focusing on that target... I am happiest. I can't relax without a tired body and head. And I get to run on this mountain road, and ride that beautiful horse, and shoot arrows at a straw target all here in my backyard. This is my everyday vacation. This is my dream come true. This is home.

I know this, and sometimes I forget how long it took. Cold Antler Farm started in 2007 with a rented home in Idaho. I had no land, just a few chickens, some gardens, rabbits and an insatiable desire to farm I called Barnheart. It wasn't a passing fad. It wasn't a pipe dream. It was who I was. And I was going to get there.

When people ask me for advice on what they can do to get to the same place, my answer is usually simple. I respond "Plant something" and I mean it. If you live in a studio apartment and can't tell an angus from an ayrshire - plant something. You don't need to know breeds of cattle or have a garden plot in your city's limited urban garden. You can go to Home Depot, buy compost, a pot, and some seeds and plant something. It doesn't matter if it grows or not, what matters is you actually made the choice to act. I think this is the biggest hangup people have following this dream. They think that the choices all need to be big, romantic, and successful. They don't. You don't need to be 24, flip off your boss, join WWOOF, and travel to Peru to herd Alpacas for your summer. You need to choose to spend $26.78 on dirt, seeds, and pots instead of pizza and beer and try. No excuses. If you don't have a window, buy a grow lightbulb and a desk light. Figure it out because if you give up on growing a sprout in one pot what makes you think you'll last a season on a farm? Be ruthless with your trying.

It's about slowly moving priorities and resources. It's about how every week you end up buying one more indoor pot until the superintendent tells you that "You know, if you really like growing stuff you can use the courtyard? or the Roof?" and you start hauling 50lbs backs of topsoil up the elevator with pre-cut 2x4s. It's being consistent, and stubborn, and not letting the 13 jillion mistakes you will make stop you.

It's also about listening to yourself. Not your snarky in-laws, not your disapproving parents, and not your coworkers who crack jokes in the breakroom about you wearing the same shirt twice a week because you didn't have time to do laundry on the weekend because you were too busy building a chicken coop. It's about caring more about what makes you happy than what makes you socially acceptable. That's the real work of changing your life. That's the hard part. Not the hoeing gardens and moving hay bales, that is just body and time, but the work of overcoming the meeker parts of us that hold us back. That's the back breaking.

So you want a farm and have no idea how to get there? Plant something today. Plant it knowing you might very well fail, kill it, and then plant it again. Buy some books on the homesteading aspects you like most and stack them right on your coffee table for the world to see. Subscribe to a backyard chicken mailing list or forum. All of these things are small actions but each of them is another prayer sent out into the world. A tiny flag stuck into the ground saying "This is what I want" and the more flags you shove into the ground the more you realize how serious this is to you. And the more your decisions change towards the life you want. Maybe you'll take your profile off and switch it to Maybe you'll take that job that lets you commute from the country instead of the next floor in the city gig you are in? Maybe you'll just spend the next clothes budget on Carhartts instead of Calvin Klein? It all builds on each other. It is mental composting so you can plant your dream.

If you really want a farm you'll end up there. For better or for worse, you'll be there. If you really have Barnheart and not a passing case of farm lust based on the last documentary you saw, you'll find your way. But know it isn't money, or location, or age that makes it happen. It's those little choices and the strength to shout from the rooftops this is who you are.

And maybe one day you'll wake up on a Tuesday morning wearing the same shirt for the 5th day in the row and smile.

Saturday, May 16, 2015

New Vlog! Easy Goat Cheese How To

Friday, May 15, 2015


Alarm goes off at 3:30AM
Get up
Let out dogs
Check Bonita
Feed cats
Get ready for turkey hunting
Lyle arrives at 4AM
We head to local large farm
Hike in the dark with guns
We split up
I set up decoys and call birds
I hear gobbles in the trees
Turkeys fly to another farm
I watch the sunrise
I read from the Havamal
We leave among misty mountains at 6AM
Come home - 6:30 AM
Pick off ticks
Feed chicks in tractors
refill their fonts
carry water to horse
carry water to sheep
let sheep out of paddock to graze
Feed horse hay
Feed rabbits
Feed dogs
Collect eggs
Water kailyard
Grain and water goats
Milk Ida
Bring in milk to strain 7:30AM
Wash dairy dishes
Eggs and bacon
Check emails
Sell logo
Sell Fiddle Camp Spot
Email my bowyer
Check Bonita
Waste time on Facebook/Twitter
Emails again
Buy flat of veggie starts at Stannard's
Water but not plant them
Nap with Gibson 11AM
Wake up to kids 1PM
Skip Lunch
Bring kids inside
Milk Bonita
Feed bottles to kids
Set them up in dog crate with towels
Feel Anxious
Run three miles
Shoot 50 arrows
Press 50 pushups
Put away archery target
Feed chicks in tractors
Refill their fonts
Carry water to horse
Carry water to sheep
Put sheep back into paddock to grain
Feed rabbits
Get horse out of paddock
Groom Merlin
Pick Feet
Tack horse up
Ride up the mountain
Look for fox I shot the night before
Find no fox
Let Merlin graze on mountain, take in view
Ride home
Untack horse
Curry comb horse
Let Merlin into pasture to graze
Cover chicken tractors in case of rain
Milk Ida and Bonita
Prepare bottles
Feed kids again
Walk dogs
Look for fox
Email final logo files to client
Set milk for morning chevre
Make steak dinner
Drink a hard cider
Update blog

Night Rounds on Farm
Put away laying pullet chicks
Turn on Barn Radio
Watch movie on Amazon Instant Video
Feed kids again before bed in easy chair
Put them in dog crate with diaper sheets
Go upstairs to bed
Sleep like I mean it by 9PM
Up tomorrow at 5 AM

Some Chicks Are Smarter...

Thursday, May 14, 2015

New Vlog! Giving Up My Smart Phone

Base Camp on a Cold Night!

An odd little cold snap has come to the Battenkill Valley. This morning it was 31 degrees! No big deal and actually a delight to the goats, horse, and sheep but a fright for the chicken farmer with 3 week old little ones on pasture. These birds are not just for me but for a few friends who live nearby. They have entrusted me to raise up some fine freezer birds for their larder and that extra responsibility has me upping my chicken game to new heights.

These birds are starting to get their adult, insulating, feathers but do not have them yet. They may have been fine on dry hay last night out of the wind but I played it safe. I installed a heat lamp, covered the entire thing in wind-proof tarp, and before I went to bed I covered them up with a heavy quilt. I snapped this picture of the camp right before the quilt went over top the meaties. When I looked out my window at the dark farm I had to giggle at the sight of the glowing green chicken tractor. Do you know those images of fancy mountaineering tents in catalogs in dark wilderness where the only light is the glow of a tent? That is what it looked like outside. So I nicknamed it basecamp with Gibson, who was disappointed he couldn't see the chicks he likes terrorizing as he runs circles around the tractor...

This morning as I removed the gear I was a little worried a few chicks would be dead but they all made it. This little measure of prevention only took moments and I already had the lamp and extension cords. Now I need to build a second tractor, and more as they grow into their adult bird size. Whew!

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Come All Year!

Everything Chickens
An All Day Workshop - July 11th

This is a full day workshop at the farm, covering all things backyard chicken. The workshop will run from 9:00 AM - 4:00 PM and have an hour lunch break. The day will cover all things poultry from small backyard to sprawling fields. Interested in a few backyard layers for eggs? Perhaps you want to add a small meat bird concern to your already content laying flock? Want to start raising pastured poultry in chicken tractors this year? Perhaps you are just chicken curious? All chicken inclinations are welcome here!

The morning will begin with raising chicks -information vital to both egg and meat birds. We will talk about chick care, brooder design, temperature control, feed and feathering out. There will be chicks here to learn to inspect for common diseases and ailments. When the brooder section is completed there will be a discussion on getting new birds used to their new coop or other chickens and assimilating them into your own spaces, lifestyles, and restrictions. What works for a sprawling backyard in the suburbs is not the same as what works for chickens in your rooftop garden in NYC - but chickens belong in both places!

The afternoon will focus on PRODUCTION. Why do we raise chickens? For eggs and meat of course! First topic to cover after lunch will be a healthy laying flock and the responsibilities therein. How to choose the right birds for your needs? Should fancy breeds stay in show homes? What can handle a Maine winter or a New Jersey seaside summer? All of these chicken questions and more will be answered.

The later afternoon will be about raising meat birds, and will include a slaughter demonstration from bird to freezer wrapping. If you are not interested in meat birds you can leave and that is fine, but for those of you interested in learning this skill you can get a step-by-step process from harvest to thawing for recipes.

Cold Antler Farm is all about making animals part of your normal life. I want folks to know how to raise a chick, slaughter a broiler, or run a small chicken tractor operation of 10-30 birds a year in the backyard for your freezer storage. No eggs are healthier or better for you than homegrown eggs! And no roasted bird tastes better than one you knew as a chick in your palm!

The day will end with a serious discussion on the importance of having food at home, both with uncertain times ahead and your own personal health and responsibility. Nothing involving tin foil hats, but a realistic talk about the rise in food prices, the morality of chickens being flown to our grocery stores from overseas, and the GMO animals filling every fast food corner store. Take back some of your health and make the world a better place for feathered and human friends alike!

Date: July 11th 2015
Location: Cold Antler Farm
Price: $100 a person
Spots: 15

Photo by Miriam Romais

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Monday The Ram

Monday is the ram here, at least these days. Before him was Atlas and this coming season should be some new blood, named Cloud. I think Common Sense Farm and I will swap and I am a little intimidated! Cloud earns his name. He is a huge mass of white wool and horn. But I think Monday will enjoy heading to a new flock down at the Commune!

Photo by Miriam Romais