Jumping in Whole Hog

No way did I plan to come home from the Litchfield Fair with a pig. Sure, when our family moved to the rural countryside of Maine my husband, Dana, and I had talked about the benefits of raising a couple of pigs. Humanely raised meat. Fertilizer for our garden. Less dependence on the grocery store.
Only, we don’t eat much pork. And there was the whole process of pig farming, which we knew nothing about. There didn’t seem to be much risk, however, in entering our youngest son, Ezra, in the pig scramble at the local fair. While my husband and Ezra sat in the bleachers of the exhibition barn, waiting to see which children’s names would be drawn to participate, I wandered off with our 8-year-old to hear the results of a free bike raffle.

Transformation is rarely easy

Transformation is rarely easy

Now that the snow is truly melted and gone here along the southern coast of Maine, there is no denying the amount of work my family must do to transform the land surrounding our little house in the big woods into the lawns and gardens we desire. First, there are dead trees to cut down. As we moved in when the ground was still covered in snow, we also didn’t realize how wet it was – despite being near the top of a significant hill.

Prepared for Something Precious

Prepared for Something Precious

One of my earliest memories of my mother is of her sitting cross-legged on the floor of our living room surrounded by a massive pile of freshly-washed wool from the sheep she raised on our Oregon farm. In her hands she held two slightly curved wooden paddles with...
HOW DO YOU DEFINE FAITH?

HOW DO YOU DEFINE FAITH?

WHAT do spring and faith have in common? Growing up on a 10-acre farm in Oregon, we grew almost everything we ate. Wal-Mart didn’t even exist! But on the few occasions my mom took my brother and me to the local market, I hovered over the refrigerator case of...
WHAT CAN’T BE SEEN

WHAT CAN’T BE SEEN

Early last spring, I mentioned my need to grow things to one of my late daughter’s teachers. It’s that backward pull again, the roots of childhood lacing up my legs like pea vines. I’d felt it for years–this need to plant–but it was...