If the last year has taught me anything, it’s that farming has a hilarious, deeply cynical sense of humor, and I’m usually the punchline.

Between navigating a humbling sheep disease, introducing cattle, managing an orchard, and quietly plotting a ginseng project in the woods, I’ve figured out what truly fuels Deer Creek Pastures: caffeine, stubbornness, and spreadsheets. Sure, there’s also sunshine, grass, and good intentions, but mostly if I’m being honest it’s mostly powered by Google searches, emergency runs to the local farm supply, persistence, and the occasional meltdown of the solo farmer disguised as “strategic planning.” 

So, for anyone who’s ever seen the farm from the outside or met me over Zoom in a professional setting and wondered how I manage this place solo while balancing a full-time career… here’s a little reality check.

Confessions of a Farmer with Too Many Spreadsheets

Let’s start with the obvious: if overcommitting were an Olympic sport, I’d be the first farmer sponsored by Excel. Finances, animal health updates, tree planting logs, soil sample results: all of it gets logged meticulously into spreadsheets. I can craft a five-year business model with depreciation schedules and cash flow projections, but when it came to naming my newest calf, I went with “Bunny” because she hopped once. I contain multitudes.

I’ve got cows, sheep, fruit trees, a full-time job, a ginseng project I swear I’ll get to next month  that finally went in the ground, and a blog (that I have lofty goals of updating more often). I’m one app update away from becoming a walking Excel sheet with boots.

The comedy peaks in the self-care column. My cows and sheep have meticulously planned wellness protocols and a cabinet full of medicines and supplements. I, meanwhile, treat farm chores as my version of therapy, cardio, and confrontation avoidance all at once, while simultaneously tracking my macros like they might somehow cancel out the sheer volume of adrenaline I run on. And after the sheep drama this year? I learned that you can’t spreadsheet your way out of heartbreak. I tried. Believe me.

Quick note: These are confessions, not complaints. This messy reality is exactly what I signed up for, and if I wasn’t completely in love with the organized chaos, I’d have traded my boots for slippers and a less demanding retirement plan long ago. It’s the hard parts that make the good parts worth documenting, and I have been blessed with SO MANY good parts in 2025, including the arrival of my first calves Beatrice and Bunny.

Lessons from the Land and Livestock

The truth is, the farm has a way of humbling you into balance whether you like it or not. You can push, plan, read all the books and watch all the YouTubes to prepare for worst case scenarios, but the animals and the land always set the pace. I’ve learned more about myself from these animals than I could from any book, class, or burnout recovery article.

The sheep reminded me that no matter how much you plan, some seasons will knock you flat, and your only job is to stand back up, gentler than before, and keep trying.

The cows taught me that brute force doesn’t work on 1,000 pounds of curiosity. You have to earn calm through consistency. Betty and Blanche show up to the gate for treats and pets every morning and every evening like clockwork, a testament to that consistent calm.

And my own body has reminded me that sustainability doesn’t mean doing everything yourself until you fall over, and that it’s sometimes ok to push the non essential chores off when you have an intense work week. It means finding a pace that lets you keep showing up.

As I grow the farm, I’m trying to apply the same care I give the animals to myself. I’m hitting the gym and lifting heavy things that aren’t feed bags. I’m fueling my body with protein instead of just caffeine and adrenaline. I am embracing rest and striving for eight hours of sleep every night. I’m building strength, not just for the physical load of farming, but for the emotional one too. If I want to take care of the land, the animals, and this vision, I have to take care of the person running it all. And that means balance, not just sheer stubbornness.

Finding Balance

If you’ve been following Deer Creek Pastures thinking it’s all sunsets and soil health – bless you.  The reality is messy, evolving, and sometimes hilarious in the ways it humbles me. What it really is, is a work in progress. A stubborn, sweaty, spreadsheet-fueled work in progress.

So here’s to the cows who keep showing up every morning for snackies, the flock of sheep that almost broke my spirit this summer and is due for another round of CL testing soon, and the orchard that quietly reminds me good things grow slowly.

And here’s to protein and fitness goals, farm chores, and the kind of work / farm / life balance that looks a little less like perfection and a little more like peace. I am so excited for the privilege to continue to grow this little farm of mine, and so proud of my journey so far.