The irony is not lost on Ben and I that our last blog post, posted over three months ago, was ruminating on what rest looks like when you are a farmer or rancher. The concept of “rest” is still a work in progress in our lives and on the farm. Matching the frenetic, wild, warm energy of the summer months, we worked: participating in 2+ farmers markets a week, managing new litters born on the farm, helping neighbors, and working through the daily cycle of care for our animals. If our previous summers have been focused on starting our Meishan herd and building infrastructure, this was the summer of human connection. Before starting JCF, we were told many times, in many different ways, that our idea of raising local, heritage, thoughtful, and slow food wouldn’t work. That there may not be a market for it, and that we could never compete against the commodity food system.
You all proved those voices wrong this summer. Each market we attended brought us into conversation with fellow humans who were just as curious, knowledgeable, and passionate about making and participating in a local food system as we are. We’re incredibly grateful to everyone who supported our farm this summer, stopped by with questions or to chat or reminisce, and eventually became a warm weekly presence in our lives. Although we’re looking forward to taking a few restful Saturday mornings this October, we’re deeply missing the excitement and connection of market season. Thank you!
Despite the bittersweet end to summer, we’re feeling the cyclical shift in the seasons. Our focus is turning towards home this month, our energy turning a bit more contemplative. We’re taking notes of this summer season and making plans for 2027. We’re also tackling some much-needed projects and goals that will move the farm forward, including expanding our rotational pasture (a logistical puzzle of fencing, water access, and shelter access), working through several business-y things (yearly licenses, financial reports, and some educational courses), and preparing for three fall litters from our sows Elena, Elanor, and Ivy.
All to say, we’re taking a deep breath this week before doing what we do best — diving back in. And for the most part, we wouldn’t have it any other way.
