It was supposed to be a straightforward Monday morning. Then Annie had other ideas. Our resident sow delivered a litter of seven piglets — spotty, pink, and absolutely tiny — but promptly decided that motherhood wasn't quite for her. Whether she filed it under "not my problem" or simply didn't get the memo on how this was supposed to work, Annie rejected her piglets almost immediately, leaving the little ones without the colostrum and warmth they desperately needed. Then the weather joined...

It's hot. The pigs know it. And honestly? They're handling it better than any of us. A lighthearted look at why mud baths and wallows are absolutely essential for our beloved Oxford Sandy & Black herd on a scorching summer's day.

There are moments in farm life that remind you, with bracing clarity, that you are not nearly as capable as you imagined. Our first attempt at sheep shearing was one of those moments. Actually, it was about twenty of those moments — one for each minute it took us to do what the world's best can apparently manage in 37.9 seconds. It began with a phone call across the valley to Dave, our neighbour and the only real farmer within shouting distance. Could we borrow his shears? Dave, to his...