​This summer has been the season of revolting farm animals. It is like they have sensed my need for them to stay in their designated pastures, pens, and paddocks and done the exact opposite -somehow knowing how hard it would be for a 9 month pregnant lady and toddler to wrangle them. Between rebellious pigs, mischievous sheep, and curious calves I am happy to leave the summer season behind us.

The decision to do a pig project this year was fairly easy. Pork is delicious, we were able to lease new woodland/pasture perfect for foraging pigs, and my hubby agreed to help with the heavy lifting as my pregnant belly grew to new extremes. As our tried and true method to contain pigs we were confident when we released the hogs into a hotwire paddock. What we did not foresee was the pigs lack of respect for hotwire which became apparent when they were GONE during a morning pig check. Pigs are clever creatures and I had assumed that they would come back home when they were hungry later that day, barring any predator involvement. I was wrong. Very wrong. 

To my embarrassment I had to claim my pigs from the Sheriff’s Department. Our neighbors are extremely helpful and without knowing for sure who the rascal pigs belonged to, put them up in style while a day passed until I knew how to find/claim them. I considered myself lucky, grateful to my neighbors, and mortified that my ‘free to forage’ piggies had caused such a stir. After making some slight adjustments to the hotwire we again left the pigs in their paddock to eat, forage, explore and live the good life. Big mistake.

Just a day or two later I get another call from a neighbor letting us know the pigs were out again. Luckily Hubby Dearest was home and was able to swiftly meet the neighbor and walk the pigs back into the paddock with ease. Before I could pack up the kiddo and meet up with them (as it all happened within minutes), I got yet another call from the Sheriff’s Department. Thus, to my utmost horror and embarrassment I was admonished by a very understanding Deputy about containing the pigs. I was grateful that the Deputy came out, talked to us, and saw our set up. I take pride in treating our animals with respect and it was important to me for them to see that it wasn’t a lack of water, food, shelter, treats, or area to roam that our pigs were escaping. A simple case of rebellious swine. But, after having my bacon saved by neighbors not once but twice and now knowing the Deputy Sheriff personally we decided it was time to seriously revamp our hotwire plan. Needless to say, the electric shock that the fencing now contains is far superior and is keeping the hogs in swimmingly.

If our pigs were rebellious our sheep (however cute and fuzzy) were openly mischievous. Though they didn’t escape the pasture, they harassed the laying hens, were too friendly with my two year old, and smashed one of my pastured meat chicken tractors  to smithereens. I would manage to patch up the tractor to only have them break it to pieces again. So, I waddled around attempting to wrangle my meat birds in the 98 degree coastal heatwave, sweating-panting-struggling to bend over, while trying to keep the sheep from accidentally trampling my chickens. 

Our farm adventure continued into this afternoon, while I was lulled into a false sense of “winding down” for the season on a sunny Saturday. I relaxed with my toddler in the recliner as she snuggled close to my 38.5 week pregnant belly asking if the baby was coming as she fell asleep – and our calf Norman walked by the window.

I stared in disbelief, fearing the herd was grazing in our yard as I tried to call dear Hubby Dearest for back up. Thank my stars the Hubby was tinkering in the garage and came running around back with me. Luckily for us it was only the calf Norman frolicking and luckily Norman loves people. He loves treats and pets and was completely unconcerned until….a chicken walked in his general direction. Slightly spooked after the chicken’s close proximity we calmed him down with more treats, ushered him back into the main pasture with the rest of the herd and said goodbye to our relaxing by the river plans as we committed ourselves to finding and fixing whatever weakness our fence has. Hubby patched the fence to only have Norman show incredible agility and jump the fence. Norman, time to put on some lbs and stop horsing around.

As fun as our busy summer has been, I am ready for it to be over. I am ready for foggy days, slower paced chores, welcoming our sweet baby boy into the world, and enjoying a tasty homegrown roast on a rainy day. We thank our neighbors for their support, help and understanding as they saved our bacon and watched our young family struggle through the adventures of farming.

(After a long afternoon we visited Toby the neighbor horse – Q’s one true love) 

​As I laid awake before dawn it was silent. My toddler had finally decided to sleep, the house was quiet, and I even considered trying to fall back asleep for a few more blissful moments. Then the first rays of light struck our little farm.

At first it was just one or two birds tweeting their good morning tune in the distance, then a few more trickled into the medley, and soon it was a cacophony of bird calls next to my window. Then the cows chimed in. I could hear them chewing, slurping, and mooing mere feet from my window. Laying hens began crowing at the sun and I basked in the awesome music my farm was making as it woke up for the day, while cursing the daybreak and begging it to be quiet so my kid would sleep just a little longer.

I just tried to keep up with the day from that moment on. Attempted to be a functioning member of society between farm chore rounds. Chores- play date- chores- lunch- chores- nap time- chores- farm visit- chores, chores, chores… and even still, throughout all those rounds of farm related activities, the moment folks come out to visit the farm the animals seem to revolt.

We had customers for a maximum of 20 minutes and in that time the sheep managed to poop in their water, likely the same troublesome sheep re-broke the meat bird tractor, the poults in the brooders made an escape and were wandering off our front porch to their impending doom, and the kiddo took off her boots (which have yet to be found) and was running around like a wild child covered in mystery manure. It was chaos.

Of course the friendly folks did not seem to mind the hullabaloo, but I was frazzled as I waddled around after chicks trying to put them back into the brooders, as I wrangled my poop covered kid and hosed her down for the 10th time, and as I tried to make a short term remedy for the chicken tractor that had been crushed by wooly ruminants! Poultry transport cages were in the front yard, a half done chicken tractor awaited completion in the back yard, and toddler toys littered everywhere in between, it was indeed chaos at the Melville Farms homestead. 

But it’s my chaos. Beautiful chaos. As much as I strive to have things perfect for farm visitors, I’m glad my kid runs wild and free not worried if she has dirt under her nails or if she’s using her dress to collect rocks and dirt clods. I love raising my meat birds in the pasture where they can forage fresh ground every day. Sheep, though they drive me nuts, are all part of the fun. The tiny poults have over stayed their welcome in the brooder, but will be moved into deluxe accomodations on the morrow.  When we finally got around to dinner we ate beef that we raised, fresh peas and cabbage our family grew. After dinner we didn’t watch TV we worked until the sun went down, Hubby Dearest completing the chicken tractor in all its glory, our toddler helping in a helmet so she “was safe.”

Now as quiet falls on the farm and I say goodnight to Melville I’m exhausted, thankful for my Hubby who works so hard on and off the farm, and naively hopeful that my kid will sleep better tonight before our beautiful chaos begins again with the rising sun.

(Play date on the farm with a few good friends!)

 (Bubbles, the ring leader of sheep related debauchery) 

When it rains, it pours. Yes here on the Oregon coast we often experience a deluge of precipitation, but as our small family farm operation  Melville Farms stretched to grow meat and egg production for 2016, it now seems like I bring home a new farm animal daily.
As if offering direct to consumer sales of pork, lamb, chicken, beef and eggs wasn’t enough, I decided that this was the time to expand into restaurant and pre-packaged meat sales. New licensing has enabled us to work with local restaurant Street 14 Café which is thrilling. Needless to say that when I saw our tiny little farm mentioned in the restaurant’s newsletter I was over the moon, when I saw our chicken featured on their social media I fell over, and when they ordered MORE chicken I was knee-slapping happy!
Then it began to pour. I brought home the largest round of piglets we’ve ever raised, we secured 2 new pastures to lease, and are expecting 4 more heritage Irish Dexter cattle delivered tonight! We get our next round of 50 meat chicks in a week and will have over 100 chickens on the farm at once. Hubby Dearest may think I’m out of control and he might be right. Poor Hubby been building me new fence line and new pens for weeks to accomodate our expanding endeavors.
All together it is an exciting, busy, and joy – filled beginning to summer. However as I glance at my dwindling funds and growing pregnant belly I am sincerely hoping that Hubby Dearest is excited as I am about our little farm’s growth and that I’m not in labor on butcher day this fall!!

(Sharing a little bit of PNW farm magic with our mid-western family)

(A few blue eyed piglets that are part of our pork peoject this year)

(One of the many, many chicks for the next round of meat birds)

Spring seems to be turning into summer faster than I can keep up with.  Life is changing even faster as my pregnant belly bumps into chicken coop doorways and attracts unwanted attention from elderly strangers at the grocery store. But what has remained constant over the past few extremely busy months is that it seems that at least once a week I find myself thinking, ‘this has been the happiest day of my life.’
More than a fortnight ago Hubby Dearest built me a cross fence for our little homestead by the house.  True to form we waited until the weekend that we were getting the lambs to start putting posts in the ground.  Family came out for days of beer, laughter, sweat and fence building as they put together the sexiest fence I have ever seen.  Minutes after the gate was hung I rounded up the husband loaded the kid and we were off to pick up the lambs.  Hubby unloaded the lambs into the field and as I brought dinner into the lawn I found my sweet toddler Q hugging Hubby so tightly and talking to him about the sheep.  The heat of the day started to wane, our bellies were full, and as we watched tiny lambs frolic I couldn’t help but think that it was the happiest day of my life.

A week ago I had a surge of pure happiness as we welcomed the long-awaited first calf born at Melville Farms.  I watched in a hushed awe as she labored, toddler Q even spoke in whispers as she perched on my hip. Hubby Dearest kept bringing out the heifer Molly so she’d settle down and stop trying to mount poor Mable during contractions. I scuttled off to get more grain to distract the excited heifer and in the 5 minutes I was away the calf dropped as a healthy baby bull.
We watched the first wobbly steps, the bonding between cow and calf, and welcomed friends and neighbors as they took peeks at the new addition to the neighborhood.  Eventually the calf worked it’s way onto the fence by the road so even those who weren’t gathered to welcome the calf were able to take a good look.  The sun set as our little bull Norman nursed for the first time and I had never felt more thrilled or happy with our family farm. 

Yesterday the toddler refused to sleep, Hubby had a miserable day at work, a dozen meat birds escaped their chicken tractor and were meandering around in sticker bushes.  I was alerted by excited squawks and thundering paws as helpful dog Ted attempted to play with them, chasing them deeper into 8 ft high blackberries.  I brought a screaming crying Q out to watch as I gently removed the chickens and brought them back into the tractor to find that our laying hen Hotlips was INSIDE the meat chicken tractor gorging herself on the meat birds high-protein grain. It started to rain, my cuts from the blackberries started to bleed, Q began throwing herself to the ground in a tantrum into many piles of poultry, livestock, and dog poop. But later that night when the family sat around the table and laughed at the adventures of the day and we all could see and feel the baby boy growing in my belly roll around in around attempt to join the moment I felt my heart swell, tears pop unbidden into my eyes and I swore it was the happiest day of my life.

So many days are hard, stressful, seemingly impossible. Kids scream, laundry doesn’t get done, clutter becomes part of household decor, animals escape, budgets get tight, toddlers rub horrifying mixtures of poop and mud on their face while you’re not looking. I consider myself incredibly lucky for the brief pauses between the hullabaloo that I can slow down and notice my healthy, happy growing family in those moments of simple joy.

Today has been the perfect close to 2015. 
Coastal weather has been incredibly clear, crisp, and cold with bright sunny mornings highlighting ice crystals and frosted pastures.  Christmas hullabaloo has died down and as I watched Hubby Dearest cough a throat losenge into the bedroom wall last night I couldn’t help but think that apparently germs were spread right along with the holiday cheer this year.
The sun rose right on schedule this  morning, completely oblivious to my pleads for it to stay dark a little longer after my busy night of tending my mucus – filled family.  I went through my morning wide awake but barely coherent and after unloading the hay out of the back of my car to feed the cows I noticed my cat Frank.  Frank was sitting on my roof poofed up like an orange and white pompom after having roof – surfed for 100 yards down the county road to the field gate!

Wrangling a spooked cat isn’t as easy as one might think.. there is  reason “herding cats” is such a good saying. But after determining I didn’t want him running around on the road as he freaked out I wrestled him into the car and took the yowling puff-cat back to the house. Q of course thought it was hilarious and proceeded to do Frank impressions the rest of the day.

(Frank wrangled into the vehicle)

Now as Q wrestles Franky and continues to impersonate his yowling I’m thinking how today truly was perfect. The close of 2015 is the end of many things: my first year of blogging, my first year as  small business owner, and the end of being a mother of an infant.  Of course 2016 brings so many beginnings: a year of toddler-hood, new adventures as a farm owner/Operator, and so many changes, developments and journeys that I can’t even imagine yet.
So whether you head to bed at 8:30pm like yours truly or anxiously await fireworks and a smooch as the ball drops down I wish you a Happy New Year!!
Happy New Year from Melville Farms!!!