A small farm changes over time. So does the person caring for it.

In the process of creating this small working farm, I wondered how the bones of what I have created over ten years would change as I become less flexible — or perhaps I’ve placed those bones exactly where they needed to be?

If I’m honest with myself, I believe it’s the latter. Over the years the veggie beds crept closer to the house — for the ease of watering and accessibility, and the barn and duck shelter by necessity (space) are nearby. 

Aside from maintaining these gardens and structures which are already in place, the one thing I see needing attention is the paddocks. Thankfully, this area is in the back 1/3 of the property. Friends have offered to help move the manure bins in the Fall after rain when the ground is less hard. In their place, I will create a paddock. I will also be able to fix fencing and divide the area into useful spaces for the goats and most importantly, I’ll be able to reseed the area. Currently, there is a magnificent bag of seed mix sitting on the kitchen floor!

Aging doesn’t ask me to stop doing what I love. It asks me to find a way of loving it that can last. I believe I’m finding the ways to sustain this wonderful lifestyle I’ve created, one which brings immense joy. 

The goal is to continue farming in a sustainable way. It’s not about slowing down. It’s about redefining success.

Perhaps the quiet surprise is realizing that, ten years ago, I built something that can grow older with me. I just didn’t know it then.

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Brin writes about the quieter lessons of small farm life – ducks in the morning, goats in the barn, and the slow work of tending a small piece of land. Between animal chores, soap making, and reflexology work, she reflects on what it means to live well, live simply, and discover what “enough” really looks like.