In our last newsletter we asked a question:

If money and policies disappeared, and all we had was land and food, how would you care for your community, not just yourself or your family but everyone around you?

The days are shrinking, the sun sets sooner, and the season is drawing to a close. For us that does not mean the work is over. It simply shifts from tending plants and animals outside to stacking, storing, freezing, canning, and tucking away the food that will carry us through the winter. This is the point in the year when every bit of energy invested in the farm pays off. The freezers are filling, the shelves are lined with jars, and the pantry becomes its own kind of insurance policy.

When everything feels unstable, people look for anchors. Markets collapse, currencies lose ground, corporations tighten their grip. The systems that tell you they can protect you are the same ones that profit when you are dependent. Real stability comes from something they cannot print or inflate: land.

When we left social media, something became clear. The partnerships we thought were solid were not. Not a single local business reached out. Not one of the food organizations we have partnered with bothered to check in. These are the very organizations we have fought for, defended, and taken blows for. We shook their hands and gave them hundreds of pounds of fresh food and pantry items for free.

The grocery store has trained people to believe that abundance is permanent. Strawberries in January. Tomatoes in February. Fresh berries, asparagus, and sweet corn every single week of the year. You walk in, and the shelves are full. It feels like it will always be that way.

One of the best parts of getting a new pet is picking out its name. We spend hours bouncing ideas off of each other until a name clicks, and we just can't let it go. Our dogs, Moira and Clementine (Clemmy) started a new trend for us of naming our pets after comedies, a trend that we've now carried over to the chickens.

Farmers markets are sold as a win-win: farmers earn more, customers get fresh local food, and communities keep money close to home. The reality is far less romantic.

You’re not visiting a U-Pick farm for the experience. You’re working for free.

They hand you a basket and call it tradition. They romanticize it as “connecting with your food,” but let’s be honest: no one romanticized berry picking when it was migrant labor in the sun for $2.35 an hour. Now it’s just dressed up in gingham and nostalgia.

If you've ever walked away from a patch of beautiful land because there was a Black Walnut tree nearby, you're not alone. We recently had someone inquire about our Crop Collective who explained they don't have much room because they are surrounded by black walnut trees and so they have to use raised beds. We smiled because every single one of our gardens is under or adjacent to massive Black Walnut trees.

Every so often, someone hears the word rabbit and brings up something they read or saw online: "rabbit starvation." It’s usually said as a warning, or a reason not to eat rabbit meat at all.

Let’s clear this up once and for all: rabbit starvation is real—but it has nothing to do with eating rabbit as part of a normal diet. It’s a survival issue, not a food safety issue. And it definitely shouldn’t stop anyone from enjoying rabbit meat, especially when it’s locally raised, clean, and affordable like it is here at Carlton Hill Farm.

A growing crisis is sweeping across Appalachia: farmland is vanishing. A recent article from Appalachian Memories (“Farmland Disappearing in Appalachia as Subdivisions Take Over”) highlights the staggering loss of farmland in East Tennessee—over a million acres gone in just a few decades.

Egg shortages have become an unfortunate reality for many households, with prices soaring and grocery store shelves often empty. Whether it's due to supply chain disruptions, avian flu outbreaks, or rising production costs, chicken eggs are becoming harder to find at an affordable price. But there's good news—quail eggs offer a sustainable, nutritious, and readily available alternative.