Final Chores

We slaughtered ninety-seven chickens. Raised the timber frame. Prepped our early fields for winter. Harvested a crazy number of tomatoes. Moved our animals to fresh pasture, one final time. And then, just like that, it was over.  Maggie’s class of 2013 has graduated – our foray into farming receding, fuzzy and dreamlike, into memory. The chickens we slaughtered were our broilers, 6-week-old birds raised for meat.  It was our third time at the killing cones, knives in hand, tasked with the grim work of harvest.  In previous attempts, we’d all... Read the Rest →