There was a moment, years ago, when upon receiving the details of a new website project, I was told by the client at the time “yea, I could probably figure this out for myself, but I’m too creative for this.” It was neither the first nor last time I would …
Our efforts to breed the goat were somewhat more successful than our attempt to impregnate the sow, as evidenced by the two insensate little white lumps on the floor of the goat hutch early last Thursday morning.  I’d been checking her for days – she was a first-time mother, and I …
When we last left off, we’d sent our Sweetie Pig to go visit the boar up the hill for some good grownup fun, only to discover that she hadn’t quite let down her hair enough to get comfortable with the idea. The ensuing slapstick is already well-documented. We got a call some weeks …
This year’s Pig Slaughter came and went, and was something less of a redneck riot than last time.   Notably, though, in the interest of slowly extricating ourselves from the hallowed land of cash capital, we kept alive a breeding sow, and sent her up the hill to the lady farmer neighbor with a passel …
For people as dirty as we think we are, we go through no small amount of the foamy stuff, and the latent chemist in me was curious enough to take a plunge into soapmaking.  I mean, if you screw it up, it can explode in a glorious toxic flume!  You can …
We took in a stray, a sweet little tabby with its tail chomped off, and set her up all nice and cozy as a barn cat in our shop teeming with mice and chipmunks, both of which she’s done a fine job dispatching and snacking.  The one breed of critter she didn’t …
We never set out to be goat farmers, never really.  They were more or less dropped at our feet, or on our land, through a series of negotiations and musical-goat-swapping with neighbors up the hill. We’ve been rotationally grazing them through a tangle of net fencing, and recently, with the garden …
When we first started courting, we’d drive to VT on weekends in the bumpy truck, every weekend, and back to NYC on Sunday nights for work work work. One such weekend, we decided to spend a day fishing from the fold-up canoe. She Doggie wasn’t a natural swimmer by any …
What you see here is a standard conical pint glass, about six inches high and about three inches in diameter across the mouth. It is inverted over some as-yet unidentified insect which is STANDING THE FUCK UP and RAPPING ITS ANTENNAE against the side in a plea for me to …
Typing these words hurts me, and I’m not speaking in metaphors or about my feelings. The tips of my fingers, with every letter pressed, hurt. Ow. Hurt. Ow. I could go on, but that’d be masochism. Ow. One winter day of my unforgiving childhood, I was asked to help my …
