Farm Share Info

Our Farm Share is members only. There is a yearly fee of $35 to be a member (similar to Costco or Sam’s club). We require a first time Farm visit and get to know one another to make sure you know what your getting, where its coming from, how it was grown, why something was done as well as who grew it for you to put on your dinner plate. The member is able to come to the farm and purchase goods raised or grown on the farm by appointment. It helps us know what to produce, how much to produce and gives us feed back on how we are helping our members consume more nutrient dense foods grown and raised without pesticides and antibiotics.
Please contact us directly by email at Stablefood@Gmail.com for more information.

Herdshare Info

About Herdshare.
A person wanting to join a herdshare must first buy-in. A buy-in is a purchase price for a share of the milking herd. Ours is $50. It is a one time fee. One share equals one-half gallon per week of produce from the herd.
The Co-Owners then pay a Boarding Fee of $52 per month per share. This helps to defray the cost of keeping and caring for the herd.
The Co-Owners then have a scheduled day and time (weekly or bi-weekly) to pick up their shares of the produce from the herd.

If there are any questions please email directly to Stablefood@gmail.com
Please do not post comments on this post as I may not get them timely.
Thank you

Food… For thought

Government cannot give anything to anybody that it doesn’t first take from somebody else. Whenever somebody receives something without working for it, somebody else has to work for it without receiving. The worst thing that can happen to a nation is for half of the people to get the idea they don’t have to work because somebody else will work for them, and the other half to get the idea that it does no good to work because they don’t get to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Adrian Rogers

I am being re-habbed by my own horse

How often do we refer to re-training an ‘animal’ as “re-habbing”?

Well I have a young mare that sees what I don’t see in myself anymore. Reading ‘things that change life’s directions’ first may help understand what she sees as wrong with me. Her name is Faith. She was born in 2008, she was a ‘bun in her momma’s oven’ when I got hit. So I didn’t have a great deal of contact with her when she was growing up on pasture with the mares. She has ‘delicate sensibilities’ much like I do. I get frustrated with her, I am in a hurry all the time to make up for ‘lost time’ that I cannot get back. She knows when I am holding my breath, so she runs, she shakes when I reach for her. I am slow, deliberate and gentle with her. We were friends once. Now she is not so sure. She makes me slow down and breathe. When I stop, let out the breath I am holding and take a deep breath and let it out again she relaxes and does exactly the same. She willing does any scary thing I ask, as long as I breathe.

She is phenomenal, jet black, short coupled, long dark legs, and a trot that any Olympian would give their eye teeth for. She is the epitome of collection. Loose on her own, collected work naturally. Her parents corrected everything they did wrong when they created her brother Donovan and I thought ‘he’ was the “IT” I had looked all my life to create.  His photo graces the FB page Iberian Dressage.

But she corrects me. Makes me breathe again. Shows me that I am not always ready to work the colts again. We have several on the way this year. We cannot support the ranch/farm if everyone isn’t pulling their weight. That means that the mares need to have babies to sell (and those foals must be worked with) to cover their expenses and their share of the taxes on the land they live on and that supports them. Are you starting to see the full circle of the farm yet? I will remind you often, of the bills that need to be paid with cash. Trades and bartering don’t pay taxes. It takes cold hard cash. Gone are the days of paying the government in livestock or produce for the kings table for the right to eek out an existence on land that you call yours. I guess she is the barometer I must work by and up to her standards to get back to where I was. The stallions don’t show me what she does. They are much more like men. Even if there are really responsive they are not ‘delicate’. And we say that we train them… what a laugh.

I am often asked if I am a horse trainer. I always say ‘no’. People look at me funny. I cannot explain what I do, but I certainly don’t train them. I ask them to do things. If they don’t understand, we go through it, over and over until they understand what I am asking and are not afraid to offer a guess at it. We both know when the little light of recognition goes on. And they say. “is ‘that’ what you wanted, oh, ok”, “I still think its scary to walk on that welded wire panel laying on the ground, but if you say it wont entrap my legs, then ok”. Then we practice it a few times. Ah, the word practice, we will cover that another time. We just communicate well together. I always got great results, before my life was changed forever. DH always says I am more horse than human. That’s a label I can accept and live with. Horse trainer, on the other hand I will not.

Please, it is unnecessary for anyone to comment about her being abused. She has not been. She, like her now 19 year old dam, was born with us. She is just emotionally sensitive. I post this because I feel strongly that animals are our emotional mirrors. Her father, Merlin, had a similar reaction when 3 ILAHA Judges could not agree with each other about him wearing the same snaffle bit that he qualified for a Regional Finals class in because he had turned 5 years old. The rules had changed mid season (a whole other story for another time). I was upset under my professional persona and he knew it. He didn’t want to work in that arena anymore because it upset me. He just didn’t know why, he just knew it was a bad place to be. But once talked into doing his professional job, he had the best scores of the class anyway. These are ‘War Horses’. I am honored and often humbled to be their servant. And, apparently, being re-habbed.

A new Friend?

Did I meet a new friend today? As a matter of fact it think I did. I even called him friend. He saved my butt.

I have been having problems with my truck starting. Supposedly it’s the heating plate? It’s a dodge diesel. Fantastic truck. I got it a few years ago when my last one caught fire. It needed a lot of TLC. New tires, windshield, breaks, the fuel tank had to be dropped and the fuel reader thingy replaced (I will NOT drive a vehicle that the fuel gauge doesn’t tell the truth), the paint is seriously peeling, the dash is cracked… but after all it is a working ranch truck, office, supply ship for both human and animal creatures that inhabit this farm/ranch. I have the part, it’s in the truck. But DH is so busy at work 6 days a week and on Sunday he has the heavy lifting of the farm to catch up with.

I needed to go to town today. I wanted to be able to cook for DH this weekend he has both Sunday and Monday (Martin Luther King, holiday) off. Last weekend he was a grump. He was tired of sandwiches. I don’t blame him. I can live happily on Pearl Drops (Jersey cow milk) but DH wanted something more substantially MAN, MEAT. Ok, ok, ok, yes, we raise beef. But quite frankly, if we eat it all, we cannot pay the farm bills, the beef must be sold to raise more. This isn’t a one time thing.

So, I had plugged the heating block in on Thursday and it seemed that the truck was really liking being warm (don’t we all). Every time I asked, it started. Ok, let’s go to town, your happy and starting well. I ran my first errand and the little shop that I do business with had a new employee. I had seen this young man around town and at a fundraiser for a friend of DH’s. This was the first introduction however. When my business was concluded and I went to start my ‘happy’ truck… it wouldn’t start! Ok, get out the (wince) starting fluid, open it’s yup (yes, I said yup), air filter, give it a shot and go start it (wince again). I hate doing this… ok, turn the key, it started. He was watching and interacting while I did this. He also has a diesel, much newer, but I do like the older ones. I said my goodbyes, again.

I got all my other errands done without any problems from the truck. At my next to last stop (the last being one that I could just leave it run while I dropped a farm product to some one to try) it wouldn’t start. Even with starting fluid. I didn’t want to stress my batteries, they are only a year old and they were wearing thin (power) trying to turn it over. DH is at work until 10:30 pm. Pearl has to be milked about 9 ish. Farm chores await, groceries loaded in the cab… you get the idea. Who to call… its 3:45. Yes I have AAA but the last time I called them they waited 45 minutes to come and something really bad happened in that time. I just need a jump to another strong engine so I don’t ruin my batteries. I called the young gentlemen at my first stop and asked nicely if when one of them got off if they would come give me a hand (really a jump start). They would. And he did. Again thank you.

I have kept to myself for so long, I seem to have forgotten that there really some good people left out there.