Happy New Year!

Welcome to Winter at Mastodon Valley!

After the hustle and bustle and green of the farm in the summer we enjoy a different side of the farm in winter. A quiet, contemplative land. The birds make different calls, the colors are muted yet at the same time the cardinals’ scarlet more intense. On sunny days we catch sundogs, tiny rainbows, in the sky. Winter is full of mystery. It has been a lovely season of snow for us with daily skis and sleds for the whole family. If only I could meet you out there on the ski trail at the bend just before it dives down the hill into the big prairie…what a thrill. If you live in the north, try to get your feet in some tracks this winter.

2022. What a sweet year! We did a lot of our usual things this year: raised lots of meat, delivered it all over the midwest, experimented with our passive ram pump water system over and over, taught some classes, grew lots of food, welcomed a new baby brother. There’s a comforting feeling of repetition now that we’ve had our boots in the soil here for almost a decade. The years are starting to blend together. Every spring we welcome the piglets, the calves, milk the cow, start the seeds, raise up the chicks, etc. etc. Every fall we are processing, processing, processing veggies and herbs, stacking up the firewood, settling animals in for winter, counting hay bales, storing away the equipment. All to the steady mantra of “finish the house, finish the house, finish the house.” (Big secret: it’s almost done! And by done I mean really done!) Time has really become cyclical, the rhythm of the seasons has settled in deep. I like it.

Crabapples galore

And here we are now at the settling in part, the cozying up and quieting part. No one embraces this season as beautifully as our pigs. The sun is slow to rise in the valley; the large hill to our east casting long shadows down the pastures. For warmth, camaraderie, the pigs make nests in the hay and pile, all together as close as possible. Snouts on backs, backs on feet; some only show their ears. If left alone, they’d sleep until noon, waiting until the day is at its most sunny and full to emerge. I love the pig cuddle puddles. The cows also take their time in the mornings. Where once they were out grazing at five, now they wait. The farmers, too, are trying to take a cue from the beasts of the farm. We are still up at five, well before dawn, but we try to take a little meditative time together, watching the sky lighten, watching Orion sink in the horizon, waiting for the world to really awaken.

Homemade gingerbread house for some piggies before they headed onto the trailer

The milk cow is dry currently, i.e. not making any milk. She is growing her baby; we all eagerly await its birth in March. The ducks have ceased laying eggs. A hush is over the whole world just about. Inside, we are all stocked up. The root cellar is full of potatoes, squash, apples, rutabagas, carrots, sweet potatoes from a neighboring farm, jars of sauerkraut and pickles, jars and jars of herbs. Corn has been dried down and is ready for grinding and cornbread. Things are in the freezer or fermenting away.

Winter is also our season of enterprise, our time to sit down and answer the question: what direction to take the farm in now? 2022 has proved challenging…like small businesses everywhere we have felt the pinch of rising prices and supply chain issues. Grain, butchering, diesel fuel, electric, etc. etc. are up and the squeeze on small farmers is real. Plans need to be made, logistics ironed out, the ship buttoned up. Planning, marketing, growing. All this happens in the winter.

For now, we take a moment to give thanks for this bounty. We give profound thanks for the privilege of tending this land, for the gifts she provides. And gratitude for all those who tended these lands before us.

Blessings on you in your season of gratitude and contemplation.

Cheers to a bountiful 2023!