So beautiful I loved hearing about Ursa. If anything we need your writing, your way of life, your description of the simple everyday things, the sustenance you provide for others more then ever during times of chaos. A healing antidote to the madness xxx
Your writing struck such a deep chord with me. As a farmer myself, I know the heartbreak of losing animals, the way it never gets easier, no matter how many times you go through it. You captured the complexity so beautifully: the grief, the quiet dignity of letting go, the way life just keeps moving around you.
Thank you for putting words to something so many of us feel but rarely express. It reminded me that these small, tender stories are anything but trivial, they’re the thread of real life on the land.
Oh that’s such a beautiful return to substack. The care for your animals and land, the love you share in every word. Thank you.Ursa had the best of lives and a good death.
Thank you for being a down to earth voice in the midst of the insanity in the world right now I love reading about your farm and the way you care for the animals and the land. I could almost feel that gentle rain as I read your beautiful description 💖🥰
"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."
Thus said Thorin to the hobbit Bilbo upon his death. And those words, written by a man who knew the muck and blood and terror of the trenches of World War I, mean a great deal to me. I think the wisest of us in this life are those who seek not for glory and global victories, but who value the home and community most of all, and do not find themselves swept up like so much of the world in the pursuit of power and wealth. We know what that leads to.
Thank you, Carly, for sharing about your life with goats and sheep and the life upon the Hill, and the goodness of nature. We do indeed need more of such things in our lives, now as much as ever we have.
Good writing and solid subject matter I can relate to, thanks. My piggies come and go too, but I write about crop sizes, new tools, and basically things I can measure. There is both great joy and deep sorrow in the pigs. I am here to enable them, spoil them with summer wallows, feed them well … Sows can handle losing their babies as long as there is still one left to nurse , to cuddle . But should she lose her last baby ,a sow can go into a deep funk. She will lay in the nest and refuse food. As dark a place as any human heart knows. I give her space, a couple days before I bring her fresh greens and little treats. Sometimes it takes a couple weeks before feed timing and volume return. The other half of this is the slaughter house and how I can both write about a pigs deep emotions and the concrete or more truthfully how I can’t write , about. My voice trails off and I am back in the garden, counting rows and succession for weekly produce at the stand.
I have seen mother goats, ewes and ponies go into that deep, dark place at the loss of their young. There’s no denying they feel grief when you’ve seen that. Great joy and great sorrow indeed. Thank you, Bruce.
Sheep stories are the marrow of life. Even if the rest of the world does not get it, they are there. Sheep and man together have existed for so long through history, that it is reassuring their story goes on no matter the chaos around.
So beautiful I loved hearing about Ursa. If anything we need your writing, your way of life, your description of the simple everyday things, the sustenance you provide for others more then ever during times of chaos. A healing antidote to the madness xxx
Thank you, Helen.
Your writing struck such a deep chord with me. As a farmer myself, I know the heartbreak of losing animals, the way it never gets easier, no matter how many times you go through it. You captured the complexity so beautifully: the grief, the quiet dignity of letting go, the way life just keeps moving around you.
Thank you for putting words to something so many of us feel but rarely express. It reminded me that these small, tender stories are anything but trivial, they’re the thread of real life on the land.
The threads of life indeed. I’m so glad this spoke to you. Thank you, Helen.
Your writing is my refuge in these terrible times. Please don’t stop 💕
This makes my heart smile, Claudia, thank you 😊xx
Oh that’s such a beautiful return to substack. The care for your animals and land, the love you share in every word. Thank you.Ursa had the best of lives and a good death.
Thank you, Ambermoggie :)
Thank you for being a down to earth voice in the midst of the insanity in the world right now I love reading about your farm and the way you care for the animals and the land. I could almost feel that gentle rain as I read your beautiful description 💖🥰
Thank you for reading and your kind words, Geni xxx
You are every bit a reporter of the news.
News from the woods and wilds :) Thank you, Whitney xx
"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."
Thus said Thorin to the hobbit Bilbo upon his death. And those words, written by a man who knew the muck and blood and terror of the trenches of World War I, mean a great deal to me. I think the wisest of us in this life are those who seek not for glory and global victories, but who value the home and community most of all, and do not find themselves swept up like so much of the world in the pursuit of power and wealth. We know what that leads to.
Thank you, Carly, for sharing about your life with goats and sheep and the life upon the Hill, and the goodness of nature. We do indeed need more of such things in our lives, now as much as ever we have.
Oh, I do love that quote. How very, very true. Thank you, Joel.
Enjoyed reading. Jealous of your rain.
It only lasted two days but it was heaven! Thank you, Nick.
Thankyou Carly. I loved reading this, as you say the wheel keeps on turning.
Yes, exactly. Thank you, Marguerite.
Good writing and solid subject matter I can relate to, thanks. My piggies come and go too, but I write about crop sizes, new tools, and basically things I can measure. There is both great joy and deep sorrow in the pigs. I am here to enable them, spoil them with summer wallows, feed them well … Sows can handle losing their babies as long as there is still one left to nurse , to cuddle . But should she lose her last baby ,a sow can go into a deep funk. She will lay in the nest and refuse food. As dark a place as any human heart knows. I give her space, a couple days before I bring her fresh greens and little treats. Sometimes it takes a couple weeks before feed timing and volume return. The other half of this is the slaughter house and how I can both write about a pigs deep emotions and the concrete or more truthfully how I can’t write , about. My voice trails off and I am back in the garden, counting rows and succession for weekly produce at the stand.
I have seen mother goats, ewes and ponies go into that deep, dark place at the loss of their young. There’s no denying they feel grief when you’ve seen that. Great joy and great sorrow indeed. Thank you, Bruce.
I was standing in the rain with you.
🌧️😊
Sheep stories are the marrow of life. Even if the rest of the world does not get it, they are there. Sheep and man together have existed for so long through history, that it is reassuring their story goes on no matter the chaos around.
Yes, perfectly said. Thank you, Kathleen
Thankyou Carly. I loved reading this, as you say the wheel keeps on turning.
Thank you for your beautiful writing.
Thank you for reading, Cecile :)