A Year on the Bluff, the Roundabout Way (Part 2)

Our future property on Table Bluff
Ming Tree Realty (2016)

The Move

Due to a series of unfortunate events, our dream to buy Roundabout Farm (and officially dub it as such) would not come to pass. Just when we thought we might not be able to find an alternative rental situation and be forced to sell our animals, we found a house with land for sale in the Eel River Valley. It wasn't much of a house, but we weren't asking for much, house-wise. Just a place to keep out the rain while we started building up our dream farm on the land. It only took one walk-around to know that this was it. So much pasture with so much potential, and some fencing to get us started! We jumped. Our offer was accepted, and we would close escrow on June 15, 2017.   

Farmer Nic building the first animal
enclosure on our new property
Farmer Hannah (2017)

In the meantime, we prepared to move. Though neither of us were strangers to moving, packing up a farm was a new experience for us both. With the sellers' blessing, Nic started constructing animal shelters so that everyone would have a safe home on our first night. As moving day drew closer, we sold off most of the items in the rental house, knowing we would be downsizing into a space of 440 square feet. 

Nic, goats, and ducks
in the U-Haul.
Farmer Hannah (2017)

On the day of the move, we rented a large U-Haul van and took two loads to the new house just twelve miles away: one load with our furniture, cookware, and personal items (those filled about 1/3 of the van), and the other with our farm equipment and animals (minus our pig Cinnabar, whom we would pick up later). At one time, we had three goats and several dozen chickens and ducks in the back of the U-Haul, along with a hutch, some PVC pipe and lumber, and assorted farm and garden supplies and tools. Everyone made it to the house alive, and there was only a tiny catastrophe when we let the ducks out of the U-Haul, foreshadowing the chaos that would soon become an intimate part of our neighbors' lives. 

Selfie of the two of us
after chasing Cin
Farmer Hannah (2017)

That just left our pig. While I went to work, Nic went to the old house and worked on getting Cinnabar into a borrowed trailer. Around noon, I picked up my buzzing phone to the sounds of human panting and every few seconds, pig grunting. Trouble. I excused myself for an early lunch and drove to the rental property. Nic came around the house, alone (sans sow). "She's gone," he panted. "I can't find her anywhere." In fact, she was resting under a willow tree after Nic had chased her around for the better part of an hour. Our makeshift rope leash snapped like a rubber band the first time she ran. But once she became thirsty, we easily herded Cin back to her pen. Once she had slurped down all her water, we lured her into the trailer with bread. We high-fived, and I went back to work. 

One of our batches of chicks
Farmer Hannah (2018)

One of our first piglets born on the farm
Farmer Nic (2018)

Table Bluff Farm 

We've been here now for a year and a half. In that time, we have raised ducklings, chicks, and quail.  We have facilitated pig pregnancies and helped during piglet births. I have clipped the milk teeth and testicles of piglets. We have incubated fertile eggs, and then have watched the birds hatch and grow up. We have butchered our own meat chickens and pigs on our soil. We have mourned the loss of animals, from tiny day-old chicks to an 800-pound boar. We bury them and know their flesh will replenish the ground with vital nutrients, which will help our gardens flourish.

Seed starts for our farm shares
Farmer Hannah (2018)

A bounty of our first carrots
Farmer Nic (2018)

We had our first CSA (farm share) season from May through October, delivering a variety of fresh veggies (such as kale, chard, lettuce, spinach, cabbage, zucchini, cucumber, carrots, potatoes, onions, peas, beans, & broccoli), chicken eggs, and flowers each week to our members. We have lost beets to gophers, piglet break-ins, mysterious tomato blights, and wind. We have had customers happily tell us they have never eaten as many greens as they have with our farm share. We have experienced the deep satisfaction of eating entire meals from our garden. We have planted seeds by the waxing and waning of the moon and by the seasonal arc of light, our hands caked in clay at the end of the day.

One of our first sunflowers
Farmer Hannah (2018)

We have struggled to make ends meet. We have chosen to feed ourselves cheaply rather than skimp on animal feed. We have learned hard lessons. Our hearts have been broken and made whole again. In the end, we hope our sacrifices will reward us and our community with a farm that not only provides affordable, wholesome food, but that also will be a welcoming sanctuary for people to gather, relax, and heal.

I have learned more in the past year and a half than I recall learning before in a similar span of time. I like the way that the trials we face flex my problem-solving skills, and I find myself drawing on reserves of strength I didn't know I had within me. I like who I am when I am doing this. I am so grateful for the privilege to care for these creatures. My heart is so full when we help nourish our friends and neighbors each week. I'm looking forward to further lessons in the year to come. Thank you for your readership as we grow, as human beings, as farmers, and as a farm.