Our Story
How I Grew Into Farming
It all started when my parents took me to the local county fair when I was a toddler. I walked into the petting zoo and instantly was one with the goats, stroking their soft necks, knowing this was my future.
Okay so maybe it was not quite like that. I actually don’t remember that day but I do have a picture of me sitting next to a goat while holding a baby chick. It has become a family joke that that is how it all started.
My great grandparents grew up during the great depression, each on a farm in Arkansas. After marrying each other, they moved out to California. Not to a farm, but they kept to their roots with a big garden, canning, hunting, and fishing. I was blessed to grow up knowing both of them and hearing all the stories of the old times. Pickling, milking the family cows, and a big horned bull that made my great great grandpa pretty mad. They were the source of the farming blood that runs though my veins.
From an early age I was drawn to country life. Watching Little House on the Prairie all the time. Often pretending I was Laura and making my poor dog put up with me pretending she was a horse. The Waltons family was just as loved. Grandpa Walton was and is my all time favorite. Growing your own food looked like fun! Making everything from scratch was intriguing. My ten year old self thought a family milk cow was the most amazing thing ever. I may not have had the Ingall’s farmland or a mountain like the Waltons, but I made the backyard work. Taking over the family garden, I made it bigger and bigger every year until it was the whole backyard.
The kid playhouse was turned into a cute little yellow chicken coop with shutters and a flower box. For Christmas that year I got two “pretty chickens” aka Copper Marans. It was a few months later I brought home three chicks to “surprise” my dad.
Gardening and learning how to cook from scratch, canning, and baking bread filled my soul. It was strange to some that a ten year old wanted to make the perfect loaf of bread. I soon learned it was a skill and worked at it for years. Every loaf that I made taught me a lot about persistence. For every loaf that turns out now, there were a hundred that were inedible bricks back then.
All that was missing from my “farm” were two goats. That shouldn’t have been too much of an obstacle, right?
Welp, apparently there are rules about what you can and can’t put in you back yard. At least that’s what I was told. To quench my dairy animal love my mom found a local farm called Amy’s farm that had a herdshare.
It was like a visit to Disneyland! I went and learned how to milk an actual real life Holstein cow. A week later I was milking that cow every Wednesday night and bringing home the liquid gold. I quickly learned how to make ice cream, cheese, and my beloved yogurt.
After a year and a half of milking every week, the conversation of having a couple of goats out at Amy’s farm began. All that was needed was to convince my dad. I googled everything and anything about goats. I presented my case that two goats where not that expensive and very easy to care for. He agreed that my mom and I could go ‘look’ at a goat. We brought home two goats that day and they quickly became the center of all my attention. From feeding, watering, cleaning, and the hard task of lots of petting and good neck scratches. When I was not out at the farm with them I was reading all about goat care.
A few months later my mom and I went to the county fair grounds. We found the sweetest chocolate brown mama goat and adorable little kid. We called my poor dad to let him know we bought two more goats and he needed to bring the truck to pick them up.
Over the next few years my love of farming only grew. I would read book after book and blog posts. Everything farming, sustainable agriculture; practicing what I could on my little farm. I would go to bed praying and dreaming about my future farm. I knew deep down that was my calling. It was a tug on my heart that I was so passionate about it that it became a career path I wanted to pursue.
When asked what I wanted to do, well... it was interesting. Telling people I wanted to be a farmer, I would get all kinds of responses. Some intrigued, some acted like it was a phase I was going to grow out of, and others would point out the negatives. At the time, I would avoid the subject altogether knowing that it was not normal for somebody to choose farmer.
Both my parents supported my dream from the very beginning. My mom has helped with every kidding season from the beginning. My dad quickly learned chickens were cool and started wanting to raise more and more and more! We found a bit of land to lease a few blocks from Amy's Farm. We put to practice everything we were learning about. We built coops and raised chickens, turkeys, ducks, pigs, and a lamb or two.
I had hooked my family on the simple life of working together to grow our own food. And that’s when we all started looking for a real farm. Lots of land with a barn. My whole family was ready to move out of California which began the debate of what state was next? We all had our ideas of what we wanted. I wanted to live where it rained! After living my whole life in a desert I had a longing for beautiful, lush, green pastures for the goats to graze and big old trees that changed with the seasons. I want seasons!
Life did not work out as fast as I would’ve liked. There were many reasons that moving was put on hold. Family, jobs, and timing, needed to work out. We were waiting for the right door to open.
We went into a season of waiting, something that was really hard for me. In my lowest moments of pure frustration with everything, I sometimes doubted I was meant to farm. But every time I was at my lowest, something would happen to bring back hope. It was always like a whisper to my heart to not give up. The season of waiting was a long 5 years. With growth I can now say that I’m grateful for that time of waiting and growing as a person. It made me stronger in confidence that this is what I’m meant to do.
After all the waiting my family has bought a farm, with a 100 year old stone barn. We packed up the goats and moved to Missouri. I’m no longer naive in thinking this is going to be easy. It certainly has not been thus far, but I’m looking forward to the challenges and new opportunities and all the new projects ahead. With time, regenerative practices will work to regenerate topsoil and revitalize the soil, rather than degrading land. Simultaneously producing high quality, nutrient dense food.
We have slowly started adding new animals to the farm, A Jersey herd, South Polls cows and of course lots of chickens. There are many more additions to come!
