MORE WITH LESS.

 When we first started farming, we wanted to do it all. Well, we still want to do it all––that never goes away––but we used to actually try it. The goats, the chickens, turkeys, pigs. All of it, all at once. And what we learned––the hard way––is that when you do everything, you can do very little of it well. Then when you don't do anything well, it's hard to enjoy what you do.So that's why no pigs this year. That's why no turkeys. We have cut way back, and honestly, it's been great. It's early yet, but I can say with confidence that I am a far happier, saner farmer when I'm not chasing pigs through the woods at three in the morning. Or fencing and re-fencing and re-fencing goats. I doubt Hannah would disagree.Especially, that is, when we're not suffering financially at the same time. And we're not this year. We're actually making a reasonable, living wage doing less. More so than we ever have farming. By focusing our effort on one main project––the garden–-we are officially for the first time, kinda making it.There's more to it, though. Family for instance. I want to spend time with them that doesn't involve planting, harvesting or weeding while one of us chases Further off the rows (though I want that time, too); time with them that is not me too sore to engage, too tired to stay awake until 7 p.m.; quality time.I want my son and a Seuss. My wife and a glass of milk. I want to sit down at dusk and write a blog post with the freedom to occasionally stop to hear what the scarlet tanager or Audie Cornish have to tell me about the world. And not at dark, but at five or six I want these things––a normal hour of the day to do normal things. If more farmers lived reasonable lives, perhaps more people would choose farming. I want that, too.Will we ever return to doing it all? Maybe, probably, sure. Perhaps when Further is grown, or when he can be the one chasing pigs.But smartly. Farming is so full of possibility it is hard not to overdose. What is actually important to you gets buried in the potential that is soil, sunlight, water. But if you take a step back, and picture the life you want, you realize it can be achieved with a lot less work. You can make an impact, feed people––lots of people––and live to write about it. Because I could easily spend my entire day homesteading the fire out of this place, from dawn to dusk, but I'd sure miss my homestead in the process. That's what I've learned in these past seven seasons: do a few things well, and make sure one of those things is happiness.-Jesse.