Bigfoot's Farm

Latest posts

  • Welcome to the Farm (Now With Website)

    Well. We have a website now. For everyone who’s been following the daily disasters on Facebook and asking “where can I keep up with this that isn’t Facebook?” — you’re looking at it. The blog lives here now, safe from any algorithm’s opinion about whether you deserve to see a picture of a goat committing…

    Read more

  • The Handyman Has Entered Witness Protection

    I hired a handyman. He arrived, looked at the work, discussed materials, promised a start date and then disappeared so completely I assume the federal government gave him a new identity. No call. No text. No estimate. Just silence. Contractors do not say no anymore. They say, “I’ll send that over tonight,” then walk backward…

    Read more

  • Are These Beaver Bees?

    Why are bees eating my wood? I thought bees liked flowers, pollen and spending their short lives producing honey for people who put it in tea once every six months. Apparently some of them looked at my deck and said, “Fuck flowers. We’re contractors now.” They hover near the railings, drill perfectly round holes and…

    Read more

  • Rural King Is a Casino for Men With Property

    Rural King is what happens when a feed store, gun shop, hardware store and county fair wake up in the same building after making several regrettable decisions. You walk in for a mineral block. Thirty minutes later you are studying a side-by-side, holding free popcorn and wondering whether baby chicks would improve your mental health.…

    Read more

  • The Harbor Freight Auger Tried to Kill Me

    People have been digging holes since the beginning of civilization. We buried food. We planted crops. We installed fences. We hid bodies from tax collectors. At some point humanity looked at the shovel and said, “There has to be a machine that makes this easier.” Harbor Freight heard the prayer and sent me a gas…

    Read more

  • The Lowe’s Employee Who Arrived After the War

    I loaded ten pressure-treated 6×6 posts onto a cart at Lowe’s by myself. If you have never handled one, each post weighs roughly the same as a wet corpse that refuses to cooperate. By number six, my spine was sending goodbye letters to the rest of my body. By number ten, I had met God…

    Read more

  • The Farm Truck Dating Game

    Shopping for a used farm truck is exactly like online dating, except the truck is more honest about having rust and commitment issues. Every listing says “runs great,” followed by pictures taken at dusk from 40 feet away. The frame is never photographed. The dashboard has more warning lights than a Christmas parade, and the…

    Read more

  • Our Goats Need Names

    We added two lovely ladies to the farm, and both of them have beards. It reminds me of living in Portland, Oregon, but the rent is lower and these women are easier to please. One may have a bun, or possibly a tin can, in the oven. That is a goat joke. Please respect the…

    Read more

  • Am I Cool Enough for a Cowboy Hat?

    Serious agricultural question: how many farm animals must a man own before he is legally permitted to wear a cowboy hat without looking like he got separated from a bachelor party in Nashville? We have land. We have goats. Horses are arriving. I have fencing problems and opinions about gravel. On paper, I am getting…

    Read more

  • Apparently We Are Having a Baby

    Attention Jefferson County horse people, apparently we are having a baby. Not a human baby. I already understand those come with hospital bills, sleep deprivation and an eventual demand for a car. This one comes with four legs, no health insurance and the ability to stand up 45 minutes after being born, which is honestly…

    Read more