lundoftheeast

The Dirty (Two) Dozen

For 4 days and 3 cool nights our friendliest chicken, the petite Rhode Island Red with black tail feathers, was missing. She stopped returning to the coop in the evening. We both leave for work in the dark and come home in the dark, so we looked around the property with a flashlight everywhere weContinue reading “The Dirty (Two) Dozen”

101 Uses for Pallets on the Homestead: #1-3

When purchasing the farm 7 months ago, we inherited a lot of stuff. From outbuildings to questionable lumber, from electric fencing to old roofing, from drainage problems to really smelly compost. Now, Paul Wheaton says, “If it stinks, you are doing it wrong.” And my experience says that is true. I spent summers growing up in theContinue reading “101 Uses for Pallets on the Homestead: #1-3”

The Yellow Submarine: Salatin Style Pastured Poultry

The inaugural launch of our (Joel) Salatin style pastured poultry pontoon occurred in mid-August of this year. Typically, broilers are done in the Spring when the grass is growing fast and the temps are warming nicely. But, since we didn’t move onto the homestead until May and were busy setting up 4 pastured pigs andContinue reading “The Yellow Submarine: Salatin Style Pastured Poultry”

The Hopeful Tomato

Last January, while still residing at our 1/8th acre urban lot, a cameoing sun struck the soggy ground and I was bitten by the gardening bug. We had a couple bags of potting soil lying about and my very first batch of homemade compost was looking dark and loamy, so I mixed it all upContinue reading “The Hopeful Tomato”

A Dirt Farmer’s Success(ion)

I’ll go ahead and call it what it is…a mid-life crisis. Some dudes get the hotrod, maybe take up skydiving, cross-fit, or some other exhilaratingly risky hobby. Myself, I’ve purchased way too much land and plan to farm it with almost no experience whatsoever. Crazy? Probably. Now, you should know that I can operate aContinue reading “A Dirt Farmer’s Success(ion)”

Blackberries of Wrath

I came home last night at the tail end of a work week to find Gwen knee-deep in a thicket of Himalayan Blackberry. Armed only with loppers and too thin gloves, she was uncovering a trellis of half-buried grapes in a part of the property I had turned a blind eye. (Plus, my neck is stillContinue reading “Blackberries of Wrath”