JOY COMES BACK When you finally realise that joy is less fireworks, more firefly less orchestra, more birdsong she will come back much more often for joy will not fight with the fast pace of this life she is not in the shiny or the new she breathes in the basic, simmers in the simpleand dances in the daily to-and-fro […]
*This post originally appeared in September 2014. It is the last post in a trilogy titled, Green Hill Farm: A Retrospective. I posted the second part of this journey yesterday as I am celebrating the completion of the restoration of my home and sixteen years of living on Green Hill Farm this month. A kind thank you to everyone who took the time to read or re-read Retrospective #2. In looking back on the experience of saving my family’s homeplace, I’ve realized that not only was it a gesture of love, but more importantly, it was an act of faith. Faith, or wearing my rose-colored glasses as I like to say, sustained us through difficult times and propelled us forward. I don’t know where we would have been without it. At the beginning of this journey, shortly after my parents offered us the homeplace, my mom and I took a walk through the house. I remember walking through the dark, dimly lit downstairs hallway, the musty smell of rooms left undisturbed for too long, and cobwebs carefully covering yesterday’s treasures. I remember slowly climbing the stairs, counting each one as I went up. It made me think of Granddaddy. He once shared a story of the time his Grandmother Rieley visited when he was just a boy; She asked, “John, how many steps are there?” He quickly replied, “Sixteen!” He told me that he knew the answer because […]
Green Hill Farm Spring 2020 My beloved Clover is the oldest and sweetest sheep on Green Hill Farm. He loves picking through and enjoying the very last bites of grain. I sometimes catch him flipping over the troughs to make sure he doesn’t miss a single piece. So, yesterday, when I saw him bathed in the evening sunlight, it was a little […]
BAAAAH!! Just a little “hello” from my sweet woolly, Buttermilk. ❤️ Buttermilk is a lamb full of spunk and personality. He had a rather rough start in life. First, his mother died and left him an orphan and a bottle baby. Then, neighboring dogs attacked him. After surviving that terrifying experience, he endured an uneven shearing in order to […]
Biscuit–a sweet, new addition to Green Hill Farm Sadly, we’ve had to say goodbye over the last two years to six of our original ten flock members: Violet, Fern, Rosebud, Daisy, Button, and Heather. While it’s been heartbreaking at times, I’m grateful for the opportunity to care for and love these sweet, new faces. Buttermilk and Biscuit have had […]
*This post originally appeared in September 2014. It is the last post in a trilogy titled, Green Hill Farm: A Retrospective. I posted the second part of this journey yesterday as I am celebrating the completion of the restoration of my home and fifteen years of living on Green Hill Farm this month. A kind thank you to everyone who took the time to read or re-read Retrospective #2 last week. In looking back on the experience of saving my family’s homeplace, I’ve realized that not only was it a gesture of love, but more importantly, it was an act of faith. Faith, or wearing my rose-colored glasses as I like to say, sustained us through difficult times and propelled us forward. I don’t know where we would have been without it. At the beginning of this journey, shortly after my parents offered us the homeplace, my mom and I took a walk through the house. I remember walking through the dark, dimly lit downstairs hallway, the musty smell of rooms left undisturbed for too long, and cobwebs carefully covering yesterday’s treasures. I remember slowly climbing the stairs, counting each one as I went up. It made me think of Granddaddy. He once shared a story of the time his Grandmother Rieley visited when he was just a boy; She asked, “John, how many steps are there?” He quickly replied, “Sixteen!” He told me that he knew the […]
Farmgirl and Butterbean Green Hill Farm October 2018 All of the rain we’ve had this year has been good for our pastures; however, constant wet and warm weather is anything but helpful when it comes to managing internal parasites in small ruminants, such as sheep. Normally, Farmguy and I monitor our flock and check their eyes every six to […]
Farmgirl with lambs, Truffle and Tino Green Hill Farm June 2018 Evening cocktails…or attitude adjustment hour with the woollies is our favorite way to end a long week. 😉 Enjoy your weekend!
(Left to right) Tino (lying down), Butter Bean, Sweetpea, and Truffle Farmguy and I recently welcomed four Scottish Blackface lambs to our flock of eight sheep. Sadly, we had to say goodbye in December and February to our gentle woollies, Violet and Fern. While we will greatly miss as well as remember the original members of the flock fondly, […]
*This post originally appeared in September 2014. It is the last post in a trilogy titled, Green Hill Farm: A Retrospective. I posted the second part of our journey last week as Farmguy and I are celebrating the completion of the restoration of our home and fourteen years of living on Green Hill Farm this month. A kind thank you to everyone who took the time to read or re-read Retrospective #2 last week. In looking back on the experience of saving my family’s homeplace, I’ve realized that not only was it a gesture of love, but more importantly, it was an act of faith. Faith, or wearing my rose-colored glasses as I like to say, sustained us through difficult times and propelled us forward. I don’t know where we would have been without it. At the beginning of this journey, shortly after my parents offered us the homeplace, my mom and I took a walk through the house. I remember walking through the dark, dimly lit downstairs hallway, the musty smell of rooms left undisturbed for too long, and cobwebs carefully covering yesterday’s treasures. I remember slowly climbing the stairs, counting each one as I went up. It made me think of Granddaddy. He once shared a story of the time his Grandmother Rieley visited when he was just a boy; She asked, “John, how many steps are there?” He quickly replied, “Sixteen!” He told me that […]
My name is Tonya, and I grew up on a 300-acre farm in rural Virginia that has been in my family for over 100 years. After graduating from college, receiving my master’s degree in speech and language pathology, and living and working in a small city for six years, I decided to return to the place of my childhood. Here, in this rural area, on this patch of green, where for four generations my family has farmed, gardened, and lived, I, too wanted to be a part of this continuity. As a fourth generation farmgirl, I have many interests that not only include, but also go beyond the basics of farming, gardening, sheep and chicken-keeping. It is all of this and more that I plan on sharing in this blog.
fourth generation farmgirl 