Ewe are a loved and valued part of this community. We love having ewe by our side.
But you also stand alone as an absolute one-of-a-kind.
— Juliet, photo-bomber extraordinaire
Here’s What’s Happening At Good Spirits Farm
It’s like a switch flipped and the steam oven that is summer in the south went from slow cook to broil. All the critters are miserable. The chickens waddle around, wings held slightly apart from their bodies, beaks open and panting. The horses are refusing to leave the shade of their run-in shed.
Out in the field, the mobile shade shelter (seen in the very far right of the first pic) is where you’re most likely to find Julia these days. She’s the most delicate flower of my cow herd, wilting quickly when temps are above 80 degrees. Every afternoon, when I come out to refill water troughs, she moseys over to request a hosing down. (In particular, she loves her butt being sprayed. Weird, but who am I to judge?)
Eightish more weeks is my mantra as sweat drips off my elbows, my chin, my knees —basically anywhere pointy. I do love farming’s ability to remind you that this too shall pass—and until it does, you can endure far more than you think.
Here’s What I Loved This Week
My farrier had a litter of puppies dumped on his farm (ugh! People!). With double coats and curly tails, he thought they might be Anatolian puppies. He was ferrying one to Nashville for adoption on the day he came to trim my horses’ feet, and Veli was delighted to meet a tiny version of herself.
(If you have met Veli in person, you will absolutely recognize this move, where she requests your attention by patting you with her paw.)
Took all my restraint not to steal this boy for myself!
Veli: "What do you mean this isn't my new baby brother??"
Love the newsletter as always. And while I know you don’t need extra work, I admit to being disappointed the story didn’t end with a new puppy at Good Spirits Farm.