This is not a blog. This is a running record of farm stories and fails — written live, from the mud, by a man who once believed twelve acres would be “peaceful.” Everything here actually happened. That’s the problem. My suffering is your entertainment. Enjoy responsibly.
New dispatches drop every Tuesday and Friday. The farm does not take weeks off. Neither does the suffering.
Browse by category of regret
Latest dispatches
Want every single one on a single page, newest first? That’s Bigfoot’s Rabbit Hole. Cancel your evening.
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A Grown Man Getting Emotional in a Pasture
Three years ago I promised Mariah a horse property. Tonight I came home, looked across the pasture at Coco and Freya standing together, and realized I actually kept it.
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Is Judge Judy a Good Name for a Mule? (Asking for a Friend, the Friend Is Me)
Meet LeeLoo, our one-year-old mini mule, rescued from a kill auction by the first 19 people who pre-ordered the book. Also: my author’s copy arrived, and Mariah has vetoed the name Judge Judy.
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Facebook Farming: 37,000 Certified Experts
The best part about starting a farm isn’t the animals. It’s discovering Facebook contains exactly 37,000 certified experts. Post one picture. Within six minutes… An Amish guy, a retired welder, somebody’s aunt, and a teenager with anime profile pictures all explain why you’re doing it…
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Breaking News: Trees Are Armed
Breaking News: Trees are armed. Nobody tells you this. You walk into the woods thinking, “I’m bigger than a tree.” Wrong. Trees have bark, gravity, bees, poison ivy, and about forty years of unresolved anger. Then you buy a chainsaw. Apparently not all chainsaws are…
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Farm Fitness
I don’t need a gym membership anymore. I own a farm. Yesterday I burned 4,000 calories trying to move something that weighed less than my pride. Every project starts with… “This’ll take twenty minutes.” Three hours later I’m Googling… “Can you negotiate with gravity?” New…
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Lowe’s Employees Recognize Me Now
I’ve reached a level of adulthood where Lowe’s employees recognize me. Not by my face. By my expression. It’s that thousand-yard stare that says… “I came in for one bolt and somehow spent $412.” Every trip starts with confidence. Every trip ends with three carts…
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