Musings

Learning to manage time on our small farm

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We have a saying, “It’s impossible to be cranky around ducks.” No matter the mood, with their constant chatter, amusing waddle, intense curiosity to know what you are doing and if you have unearthed any tasty snacks, ducks will make you smile. We take advantage of calming duck therapy daily. They take us out of chaotic business demands, ground us in the here and now, and are an integral part in our desire to find balance and a time-management plan for our small farm.

The animals bring comfort. Nurtured by them, we have a sense of place – home.

2025 was a year that vanished. It went by so quickly we barely came up for air. Our weeks were full, whether with the animals, reflexology, soap-making, daily and weekly chores; time seemed accelerated and whizzed by.

Here, on the Southern West Coast of Canada, for the past two years we worked to prepare the garden beds in January and February for early Spring and late summer crops. Excitement mounting as seeds started indoors would emerge, transforming from spindly green things to leafy baby zinnia’s, collards, kale, and a host of treasured favourites to be planted outdoors.

Before we knew it, gardening fell to the wayside as life launched us into busy time-consuming weekend markets where we’d sell our organic goat milk soap, and the gardens, poor gardens, would be left to fend for themselves. We made good choices though – veggies that could ramble along without too much supervision and didn’t need gallons of water to survive. This year, we’re trying to be more intentional. We have multiple businesses; the major one being our growing organic goat milk soap business. Our cold-process, small-batch soap takes four weeks to cure so we need to plan ahead. A part of pre-market readiness entails labeling, counting, and readying the various soaps into totes, and getting the display and table ready to be loaded into the truck. Weekend markets are a big part of our sales. We need a constant supply of soap. Because our soap-making and market choices affected free time for ourselves and garden care, this motivated our planning.

Multiple businesses were a juggling act as we had no clear schedule. Though having a cautious aversion to ChatGPT, we did succumb and experimented by asking questions around time management. To say we were pleasantly surprised is an understatement. We created a weekly plan with time blocks on specific days for activities such as admin/office work, soap-making, reflexology, chores, free and garden time. We’ve noticed a difference in our free time already!

All this being said, we’re hopeful this year, with our new time-management firmly in place, we’ll be able to enjoy a calm morning with the ducks or a relaxed market day.

The number of animals this year will stay the same with the exception of the goats. We determined how many of each species is optimal for our property size – 0.6 acre. Our small flock of ducks has the companionship of friends’ ducks who live here on a semi-permanent basis, an arrangement that works well. There are currently four goats on the property, two to be sold hopefully by month’s end; leaving Willow (due we hope April 10th) and her daughter Elora. We found milking two goats last year produced an overabundance of milk. By August, our freezers were full of milk ready for soap-making, and we turned our attention to producing delicious chèvre, kefalotyri, and yogurt.

Dawg and the cats monitor and patrol, doing their thing and offer a steady unconditional loving presence.

Our passion to grow nutritious food to the best of our ability in a sustainable way is always forefront in our minds, and the connection with all the animals: sweet ducks, precious goats, Dawg, and the cats feeds our souls. (We don’t talk enough about the goats – we love them dearly!)

Each years’ experiences build upon the last. Managing a farm, no matter the size, requires patience, dedication, a lot of hard work with little payback, and an absolute love for the animals. We are confident that balance is possible with time-management planning. We can do it all: care for our animals, make small-batch organic goat milk soap, garden, and have personal time. It’s going to be an awesome year!

We are grateful for our small world and have fun sharing morning duck videos and The Daily Egg on our YouTube channel Point 6 Acre. We continue to be surprised and delighted by the growing number of followers and their comments.

Brin.

A gardening yardstick. Or, my earliest garden memory.

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This is the garden of my early childhood.

To me, its herbaceous border stretched forever. At the end of the garden stood a weeping willow which seemed taller and grander than the one in the photo. One year, much to the horror of our mothers, Anthony and I climbed to the top of this tree, and, as imaginative children do, we took turns sprinkling laundry soap (pretend snow), whilst the other grasped armfuls of long, slender branches and slid to the ground.

Zinnias, Delphiniums, Campanula, Larkspur, Foxglove, and more filled that bed. I was dazzled. Smitten. Filled with awe and wonder. As childish jealousy’s go, I always thought it unfair my brother (William) had a heady-scented flower – the Sweet William named after him, and mine was the unfortunate-named Black-eyed Susan. (My given name was Susan). I can laugh about such silliness now.

Another memory is of the peony’s which flanked one side of the drive. I remember their perfumed red splendor. And on the bank behind the house, were raspberry canes, gooseberry bushes, and strawberry beds.

It is now, I reflect upon the impact these gardens had on me as a child. And, without being aware of it, I believe my parents instilled and nurtured within me, my love of gardening; that no matter where – be it apartment or otherwise, I always have a garden.

Barbie Dolls to rabbits. My journey down the garden path.

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Or, dredging the past, digging up s—t, oops, manure, and dolly to rabbit?

My mother gave up dressing me in anything with lace. I’d liberate my clothing of the scratchy, hateful stuff, usually found on collars and cuffs. Similarly, after the age of six, I never received another doll, Barbie or otherwise. I traded my Barbie, and her wardrobe (some outfits lovingly sewn or knitted by my mother) — for a rabbit.

Oh joyousness! My first rabbit!

The dolly/rabbit exchange happened one day after school. I packed Barbie and her clothes in a shoe-box and rendezvoused with my friend. In the middle of the road, we made the exchange. Barbie and her clothes were popped into a gym-bag, and Scamper (yes, I grew up using words like ‘scamper’) was deposited into the shoe-box. No lid required.

The extraordinary thing, is, I have no recollection of where I housed Scamper – probably in my bedroom until my long-suffering, patient father built the rabbit hutch and run of my – er, his, dreams. I had no say in the matter. It was deluxe! With a ramp up to the hutch, the run was fully enclosed and had a latching door. The first of several such hutches he built for me over the years.

My mother wasn’t as impressed, but, too late, my father and I had formed an alliance. Thanks, Dad!

A week of crazy weather

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Well, that was a whacky week! Sunday night it began to snow and I awoke to close to a foot of snow on Monday morning. Roo delighted in shoveling and rooting about for his ball in the snow. Ever obsessed, he wants me to, “Throw the ball!”

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The Garden: It is obvious the broad beans didn’t get planted, and won’t for a while yet. The highlight was rescuing a cold hummingbird from the porch. Such a sweet bird – it’s fine!
The Kitchen: Made a skillet of sumptuous Shepherd’s Pie. Picture and recipe under “The Kitchen” tab.

Aside from keeping the wood-fire in the house burning non-stop, no projects were done inside the house, nor the future goat barn. I’m hoping this week is more conducive to productivity!

Hoping everyone is staying warm and dry!