The summer solstice just passed, but if I’m being honest, the last couple of months have felt like a bit of a doozy.

Summer on a farm is funny that way. Longer days and more daylight are both a blessing and a curse. There are more hours to get things done, but somehow there are also more things that need doing.

Checking In From the Field

The grass and weeds, SO MANY weeds, grow faster than you can brush hog, though I did just wrap up a weeks long effort to do a full cut of both the cow field and sheep field. I am determined to win the war against thistle and dog fennel, both of which my picky eater sheep refuse to eat. 

Fence lines get consumed by brush overnight. Water troughs empty faster. Fly populations explode, though I’m trying something new this year and releasing fly predator wasps on a monthly cadence. The to-do list somehow reproduces while you’re sleeping.

People often assume farmers love summer because everything is green and growing, and there’s no shortage of daylight to get things done. And we do love it.

But when you also work a day job, summer can feel a little like living two full lives at once.

There are morning chores before morning meetings and evening chores after evening meetings. Lunch breaks become equipment runs or feed store pickups. Weekends become catch-up days for all the things that couldn’t get done Monday through Friday.

The reality is that during the summer, the work doesn’t quit, and neither do I.

Rain, Grass, and a Little Relief

The good news is that all the recent rain has finally brought some relief after the drought we’ve been battling for what feels like forever.

We’ve improved from D4 drought conditions to D2 drought conditions. Still drought, but less “staring anxiously at hay prices and winter feed projections” drought.

I’ll gladly take grass that grows too quickly over wondering whether there will be enough forage to get us through winter. For the first time in a while, forage conditions are feeling less concerning.

The irony of farming is that one month you’re begging for rain and the next you’re wondering how the pasture grew six inches since Tuesday.

The Gals Are Growing Up

Speaking of things growing faster than expected, Bunny and Beatrice are turning into proper chunky heifers before my eyes.

I’m fairly certain they were babies approximately five minutes ago. Every time I walk out to the pasture they seem a little taller, a little broader, and a little more opinionated.

Blanche’s Fertility Drama

Meanwhile, Blanche continues her campaign to humble me. She was bred via artificial insemination (AI) in December 2025 and confirmed pregnant in February, only to decide in late March and April that perhaps she had other plans when she started pacing the fence and hollering at the bull next door. At first I suspected socially induced false heats, but an ultrasound confirmed she was, in fact, open.

She was rebred in early May after drooling at the neighboring bull across the street. If nothing else, I appreciate that her heat signals make it fairly obvious to know when she’s going back into heat. That round didn’t stick, and so she was bred again on May 29.

We’re still a couple  weeks away from the ideal ultrasound window, but if you’d like to send good vibes into the universe that Blanche is pregnant and health, I certainly won’t stop you. Raising livestock is equal parts science, management, and accepting that animals don’t always follow your timelines.

Summer Parasites Have Entered the Chat

In the sheep field, we’ve had our first worm battles of the season. My bottle ram Salt started showing digestive distress and wasn’t improving after an initial deworming. When bottle jaw showed up, it became clear we were dealing with barber pole worms.

A stronger dewormer and some extra support in the form of B12 and molasses seem to have helped him regain his footing. His twin sister Pepper was sporting a questionable FAMACHA score as well, so she got treated too. I have protocols in place for parasite monitoring, and suspected our weird weather this year might mean an increased worm load. While worms are never fun to deal with, and barber pole worms can wreak havoc on lamb health; I am gaining confidence in my skills as a shepherd and the systems that I have in place for managing parasites.

Ram Camp 

Buck and Mac, Stevie’s twins, have officially joined the mature ram group. Buck has tried my patience for months now with routine escapes. He learned from a young age how to shimmy under the electric netting. He also generally has figured out how to let himself back into the pen, but sometimes he misjudges and attempts to go right through the netting, ultimately freeing his friends. This feels exactly like the sort of statement that will age poorly and immediately jinx me, but Buck hasn’t escaped in nearly a week.

This may be some sort of farm record; or I may wake up tomorrow humbled to a free ranging lamb named Buck. We take progress in all forms here.

Waiting on Lambs and Calves

Whitney, one of my original sheep and one of the girls who helped start this whole adventure, is due to lamb any day now.

Meanwhile Betty still has months to go before her November due date but is already looking large and in charge while making her feelings about the 110-degree heat index abundantly clear.

Frankly, I don’t blame her.

The Strange Tension of Summer

As for me, I’m somewhere between grateful and overwhelmed.

Grateful for rain. Grateful for healthy animals and my own health. Grateful for growing grass and calves and lambs and possibilities.

Overwhelmed by the endless list of things that need doing and the reality that on a small farm with an off-farm job, there is always another email to answer, another pasture to mow, another gate to fix, another animal to check. Maybe that’s the tension of this season. Everything is growing, including the workload.

For now, I’ll keep showing up for morning chores and evening chores and everything in between. And as we settle into summer, I’m bracing myself for whatever craziness the Strawberry Moon decides to bring while remaining cautiously optimistic that it delivers a little Capricorn luck along the way.

Until next time, you’ll likely find me somewhere between a Zoom call, a fence line, and refilling a water trough.