“The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.”

Masanobu Fukuoka, The One-Straw Revolution

That Time of Year

Ole Man Winter has pointed his gnarly, icy finger at us...
sending us brutal cold weather to finish out our year.


It's the time of year often called the dead of winter...
when all of the color has drained from the land,
leaving behind an earthy palette of tans, and browns and grays...
the only color to liven up the landscapes is that of barns and out-buildings.


We spend no more time outside these days than we have to...


trips to feed the animals and clean up manure being the only reason for venturing out of doors.
It's just a little too cold for exposed skin.


It's that time of year when manure freezes to the rock-hard ground of the dry lot,
and we use a pick-axe to loosen it.
It's hard work and makes the time that we need to be outside even lengthier.
Rock-hard, frozen dirt is unforgiving...
refusing to loosen its grip on the manure without a fight.


The animals make it through the cold with plenty of hay to burn in their
on-board generators... their metabolic heat pumps.


The exception is the sheep, of course.


They breeze through winter in their heavy wool parkas...
chewing away the hours...
hay and cud, hay and cud...
barely even noticing the extreme dip in temperature.


We've had help with chores...

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