Story Time at Clatter Ridge Farm

A.I. has been in the news and on the minds of many people lately, and clearly, for better and for worse, a new day has dawned. To most people “A.I.” means artificial intelligence and brings to mind super computers, robotic humans and a futuristic dystopia. To many pig farmers though, A.I. stands for artificial insemination and brings to mind very different images. (Feel free to stop listening now...

This rain has been heavenly! It's revived the pastures and replenished the watershed, out of which our little stream flows. The pigs again have mud to wallow in, and since, contrary to the old adage - pigs really cannot sweat, they need the mud to stay cool. The chickens are thrilled (in their own chickeny kind of way) with all the insects that flourish after a good soaking rain. Ants, worms and b...

Two bluebirds are nesting in a bluebird box outside our dining room window. We might as well set a place for them at the table, as we spend much of our evening meal discussing their comings and goings. After a day spent taking care of our animals, it’s oddly relaxing to watch another pair so diligently provide for their own. We watched as the male collected twigs for the nest the female was buildi...

Nothing draws people to our farmers’ market booth like a table filled with orange and yellow edible mushrooms. The brightly colored “Chicken of the Woods” fungi stops people in their tracks, and most can’t resist coming up and asking what it is. Some want to know “How do I know it’s not poisonous?” I explain that killing our customers is a very poor business model, so we only sell items we are qui...

Whenever one of our pigs touches the electric fence, and lets out an impressive heart rendering squeal, Anne and I, in perfect unison, cheerfully proclaim “fence works!”. Our friends look at us in horror, and I guess it probably does seem a bit callous, but anyone who has spent an afternoon trying to retrieve a wayward pig understands our enthusiasm. A little zap on the nose seems like a very smal...

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I've been arguing with a chicken for months. She’s insisted on laying her eggs underneath our back porch and my days of happily crawling under the porch to retrieve those eggs are over, so we put an end to that. Anne and I blocked her access by covering the opening with poultry netting, and perhaps predictably she started laying eggs under the front porch. We covered up those openings as well, so...