Monthly Archives: January 2013

Six Buckets Farm is a way of life.

I don’t think I’ve ever explained how the ranch got its name. The last thing I remember is that it was 2006 and we were living in the city. We were looking to buy our first house, and I remember … Continue reading

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Am I cut out for this crap?

Last night around 10:30 or so, I was dragging hay out to the cows when one of my pinky fingers slipped out of my glove and froze instantly, snapping off and falling to the ground in the dark. I knelt … Continue reading

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On raising fat pigs

My beloved pig had been dispatched, drug and hoisted onto the gambrel when a couple of city folk started scoring and slicing their way to her backside. As they peeled back the hair and skin, I was mortified. All I … Continue reading

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Spaghetti with a side of tears

I have to say that I’ve never bawled my eyes out over a jar of Preggo. But in my kitchen on Saturday, I looked down at a big pot of simmering spaghetti sauce and things started getting blurry. Yep. This … Continue reading

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