I ve been thinking a lot about risk and insurance over the last month (among many other things, mind you). See, I bought a new (ok, used) vehicle and when the dealership wanted to sell me three years of breakdown insurance, I hummed and hawed over it.
As the pasture grass settled into dormancy and the weeds thrived in this summer s drought, the goats wove through the weedy jungle nibbling at leaves and leaving tough, bare stalks behind. The mower took care of these unwanted interlopers ...
Thanks to the Blyth Festival s revival of the play 1837: The Farmers Revolt this summer, some new attention was drawn to a crucial moment in Canadian history that s often forgotten or, worse, treated as a comic opera.
As my loved ones have spread out across the country, this summer I ve had the opportunity to see more of Canada than I ever have before. Funny thing is . travelling has a way of opening my eyes to some of the things I love about home.
Fast Eddy has preacher boy Jack right where he wants him riding shotgun in his three-quarter ton 63 Chev, running down a little-used gravel track at 35 miles per hour.
Did you see the item on the news last night about Cliff Murray started to ask the other morning at Mabel s Grill, but George McKenzie interrupted him.
Everyone has the right to work, to free choice of employment, to just and favourable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment, declares the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. But what if you can t get enough people ...
The room was full of cattlemen. Those from Western Canada were conspicuous in their cowboy boots and hats. All were there to learn about...
My neighbour was almost apologetic when he told me his winter wheat yielded 90 bushels to the acre this year, saying he d heard of others with better...
One Sunday afternoon, between hay and wheat harvest, we packed up our bikes and headed for Auburn. It was a beautiful sunny day, not too hot, not too windy, but with a refreshing breeze keeping us cool...
This summer I ve been on a mission. My objective: eradicate from our 96-acre farm some of the invasive plant species. I ve been hacking, slashing, cutting, chopping and smothering garlic mustard, goutweed, European buckthorn, European barberry...
My friend had a goat whom she loved. She named it. Bestowed attention on it. Fed it way too much grain and let the goat have the run of the place. It would visit her inside the house and when in a good mood, return her affections in kind.
When I read articles or see television video about how the world is drowning in plastic these days, I can t help thinking it s another example of the need to be careful that what you wish for might come true.
The dry years scare you, the wet years starve you. That is a weather saying that, while new to me, is one that from my experience rings pretty true.
Anyone with a relatively small patch of fertile ground can grow a considerable amount of food.
The following is a list, in no particular order, of some of my garden favourites.
Sure, I ll have another cup, said Cliff Murray when Molly Whiteside came around offering to refill his cup for the third time the other morning at Mabel s Grill.
Considering the recent election of a new (well, old) government, I thought I d use this page (mwahaha!) to write about a time long-ago when Ontario voted for a party of farmers.
Research chicken tractors and you ll find a myriad of designs and contraptions which transport chickens across a grassy field to devour fresh greens and protein-rich insects.
As I drove to Toronto one recent Sunday morning I found myself as frustrated as if I d been caught in a traffic jam on the city s edge. But it wasn t other drivers who raised my blood pressure. It was what I was listening to on the radio.
Back in the winter, I wrote a column about rural poverty, living wage, and some United Way research about life in Huron and Perth Counties. I don t usually get feedback from the columns that I write but that one did inspire a couple of people to make...
Jack and Eddy have been sitting in silence for some time, poles extended over the deepest pool in this stretch of the stream or crick as Eddy would say sacrificial dew worms suspended in the violet darkness.
I have always been skeptical, I have to admit, of aid organizations promising to deliver goats, chickens or pigs to people who forego Christmas presents.