a real farm?
Gibson's snout is still covered in marshmallow. Last night my friend Steve hosted a bonfire with some music and fish tacos. By the time it grew late and we were all out with smores and drinks, Gibson decided his taste of the iconic treat would be more fun to roll in then devour. I'm not here to judge. I'll wash it off with a warm dishcloth when he's more tired than he is now.
People have emailed me asking if the blog will continue now that I bought the farm (that never sounds good, does it?) and the answer is a resounding yes. While I may have reached a goal, the work is just getting started. Cold Antler is in its infancy right now, we're just barely breaking sod on our first year. There are fences to raise, barns to build, and livestock to acquire. I am in the first stages of getting Gibson his own flock of Scottish Blackface ewes from (who I hope will be) our sheep herding instructor. I have a small flock of heritage turkey poults coming for coworker's holiday tables. The season has barely began folks and I have so much I want to write about. I want to write about getting my first production flock, learning to shear, lambing, marketing and building a business. I want to chronicle all of this turning into something bigger than anything I could imagine now. The blog won't end until people stop reading it. (Please keep reading. I like writing.) I want to make this into so much more. It's so much to me; the wool, dirt, and words.
Every once in a while someone will say to me something like "I know you have sheep, but I was at a real farm this weekend looking at wool and..." or something to that effect. They don't mean it in a demeaning way. They know I work hard at my small freehold. Yet hearing that phrase "real farm" can't help but make me cringe a little inside. What makes a farm real? The fact that the people who own it, work on it full time? Having business cards and a sign on the back of your pickup? I'm not sure what validates reality for them. But to me, Cold Antler is definitely a real farm. I grow food for myself and customers, and this weekend several coworkers will be cracking CAF eggs into their pans and have ordered turkeys and chickens. It may be bartering and handshakes deals right now, but where else can a gal start but at the beginning?
As far as I'm concerned, if you have a backyard with veggies and a few hens, and you not only consume it yourself but others do as well (friends, neighbors, your community) you are a real farm. You are a producer. You are feeding people. You are real. Stickers on the side of your truck are optional.