I throw around the term “farm” a lot for someone who has little to no knowledge about livestock, water systems to supply livestock, the cost of feed for more than 25 chickens, etc. Why is that? Do we consider ourselves farmers?
If you’re thinking of the modernized conventional farmer who has chicken houses contracted with large corporations, large cattle operations where you rise with the sun and sleep with it too, or even rows of mono-cropping that requires one major harvest at the end of the growing season–then the answer is no.
Not even close, nor would we want to be.
I suppose a more fitting term for what we do and what we believe in would be “cultivators”.
Whether it be farm raised meat, wild game harvested from our land, two backyard gardens that stock our pantry for the winter months, or land conservation techniques that raise the quality of our soil over time as to restore it to its native state.
We aim to cultivate wholesome goodness that can be carried on and passed down for many years to come without leading to soil erosion, toxic food waste, chemically covered produce, poor wildlife habitat, so on and so forth.
I want to create with my hands and my mind something that can be shared and consumed which then leaves me feeling uplifted and joyful in my work.
Sure, we “farm” in our own, small-scale way. We have a small farm that produces enough eggs, honey, and produce to last our family and extended family for the year.
With each year comes experience and knowledge that allows us to serve others and not just ourselves.
It’s remarkable and healing all in one.
I’ve developed a fascination with farming in all forms. I want to know “why” and “how”, regardless of if I agree with the model being used or not. The farming community is often welcoming and really joins together a group of likeminded individuals who have close to the same goals: better health and more humane production of goods/services.
If we can do anything in this life, we should always help and heal one another as best we can. Whether that is through our hearts, our homes, or our homesteads.