We're Not Sheepish About Sayin' It
You are loved. You are supported. Your community values you. Thank you for being a wonderful member of our flock; we’ve got your back.
— The Flerd, but especially Juliet, who loves with her whole heart (in return for butt skritches)
What’s Happening At Good Spirits Farm
It’s been a minute - between the farm, the job, and the baby, each day feels 28 milliseconds long. But the big farm news is that we got another dog!
Fall is now deeply upon us—a wind storm tonight will probably knock every last crimson and gold leaf from the trees. The gals, as they do every fall, are in various states of undress.
The older generations have quit laying as they switch to growing in their winter plumage. But this summer’s chicks are coming online (they don’t molt their first winter). I love the first tiny eggs we get. Look at this petite trio, perfect for making a baby-sized three-egg omelet!
Monday will bring our first hard freeze. We’ll spend the weekend gathering the last of the winter squash, the green tomatoes, and harvesting any remaining lettuce. Normally, the day before a hard freeze is a flurry of work, but between the rabbits and my lack of bandwidth, my fall garden is almost non-existent.
Yesterday, I stopped by a friend’s house to take some of her extra abundance off her hands. She’s retired and has turned most of her yard into a series of well-tended beds. Walking through her garden, I saw my retirement dreams in full color: nurturing a garden all day with more than enough to give away to anyone in need. My barefoot grandma garden witch era, it shall be.
Until then, I’ll grow what I can and just learn to be happy with that. Of course, that would be easier if I didn’t have neighbors like this guy showing up just in time to dig holes in all the wrong places.
Move along, bud. We’ve got more than enough to deal with already here.
Here’s What I Loved This Week
I can’t remember if I wrote about starting some new mushroom logs this summer or not. Basically, you can inoculate fresh-cut oak and poplar logs with mushroom spores by pounding mushroom spawn into holes in the logs.
Then you seal up the holes with wax, place the logs in a shady spot, and wait.
It takes about 6 months—sometimes longer—for mushrooms to grow. And the last time I did this, I was almost to the end of the waiting game when an overzealous tree removal crew threw all my logs in the chipper. (I know they thought they were helping, but I still have not fully forgiven them.)
So: this summer I started over. This morning, I saw the first gauzy bits of mycelium creeping over the ends of the logs. It will be spring, at the earliest, before harvest. But at least we have progress!







I know life is "a lot" right now, but I do love when you give us a little peak into your precious life. Thank you!
I always enjoy your notes from the farm. And the photos of the critters. This weeks bonus the puppies!