“You’ll get used to it after a while. Never a dull moment on a farm.” — Grampa Brown

When we first moved here, we were all learning. City kids. City woman. All of us finding our footing in the middle of 46 acres, with pigs in the barn, chicks in the kitchen, and dreams bigger than our know-how.

📓 Farm Journal, Day 156:
Lost two chicks. Had to clean poo off the bottoms of two others. Found a cat in the kitchen vent. Just a normal day.

And I’ll never forget what Grandpa Brown said when I shared that one:
“You’ll get used to it after a while. Never a dull moment on a farm. HA!”

📓 Farm Journal, Day 226:
The pigs broke out of their pen and were feasting on spring grass in the front yard. It took three confused city kids, one determined city woman, and one good farm dog to get them back into the barn.

📓 Farm Journal, Day 912:
The pigs escaped again. I looked up from a conference call to see one trotting through the yard. This time, it only took a bucket of feed, Nate, and a transplanted country girl to round them up.

And now? Now it’s completely different—and somehow exactly the same.

📓 Farm Journal, Year 6, Day 180:
It’s late afternoon on the ranch. It’s not quite yet spring, but we can feel it waking up beneath the dormant browns and grays of winter. The once city kids spent their morning stacking firewood and patching a broken pig pen. Then they spent the afternoon fishing in the pond. I sat down to enjoy the peace and quiet only to be startled by … a kid holding a frog.

🐸 And today?
The kids are driving tractors, spraying the fields, gathering firewood, fixing fence lines. They know the land now. They know the animals. And they know what it means to live this life — unexpected frog visits and all.

We’ve come a long way from pigs in the yard, chicks the kitchen, and cats in the vent. But we wouldn’t trade a minute of it. Because through all the chaos, all the critters, and all the learning curves — we found our rhythm.

We found home.