Today we found ourselves longing for the typically pleasant Pacific Northwest we’ve come to love. The temperature inched past 100 degrees this afternoon for the first time since we moved to the Boistfort Valley. However, these days we have more than just ourselves to keep cool. So instead of holing up in the house, a fair amount of my day was out in the heat.

Being a farmer with animals sometimes means putting their comfort before your own. You make a commitment to giving them the best life possible. So, yes, you will go out in the sun—lugging heavy buckets to fill and refill water bowls. You will dig a patio umbrella out of storage and move it multiple times to give the turkeys better shade. You will distribute frozen plums and cantaloupe to the turkeys, then break apart icy blocks of peas, apples, plums, and zucchini that you previously froze for the chickens and geese. You’ll check for eggs more than usual. You will go out multiple times to the forested area where you moved the rabbits and give them extra bottles of frozen water... then later move them into the garage just to be safe. You’ll find large pieces of cardboard to place over the beehives for extra shade. You will attempt to invite the cat inside only to discover her busy making a kill.

Some of that might have been more than needed, but I’d rather do too much than not enough. Especially after the sad experience of losing one of our rabbits. Making sure everyone is okay at the end of the day is worth a little overexertion and a mild sunburn.

I know soon enough, we will wish for warmer days. I’ve had several frigid early mornings where my fingers hurt from the cold after doing my daily rounds, and I know there will be far worse to greet me when temperatures drop in a few months. We will have new worries, such as keeping water supplies from freezing and providing more shelter from the incessant rain.  But again, we are here to provide happy, healthy lives for our animals. That means doing our due diligence to protect them from weather, predators, each other, and sometimes themselves (turkeys are not smart!). It also means checking on them first thing in the morning instead of sleeping in, and securing them at night, no matter how ready you are to go to bed yourself. 

Farming is all about give and take. We honor the land and its inhabitants in the hope that we will be able to reap its rewards. It’s hard work, but it’s worth it. Or that’s what we’re mostly saying a year into our adventure. Let’s pray that feeling holds!