People are rushing into crypto because it dangles the promise of escape. Fast money. Control. Freedom from the same banks and governments that hold the leash. But look closer and you see the same old trick: a system that farms you while pretending to liberate you.

Alexys has been living with Multiple Sclerosis for nearly a decade, and it shapes every part of our farm. Our happy animals, beautiful gardens, and daily rhythms are rooted in countless choices we’ve made to build a life that allows us to thrive despite our daily challenges.

When we have free time, the stereo goes on. Not streaming, not playlists, but CDs. We don’t listen to them because it’s trendy or because we’re clinging to nostalgia. We listen to them because when we buy a CD, we own it. The music doesn’t vanish if a subscription ends. The money goes straight to the artist instead of being shaved down to fractions of a cent. And the album sits on our shelf where we can pull it down and hear it the way it was made.

Heat is survival. Without it, a house is just walls against the cold. On this farm we learned that lesson in our first years here.

I was diagnosed with PTSD recently. Not from war. Not from disaster. From work.

Most people think self-reliance starts with a big jump. Buy land, plant a huge garden, get animals, and flip the switch overnight. That’s the fastest way to fail. You don’t start by betting everything on skills you’ve never tried. You start small, because every mistake costs less when the stakes are low. Dabbling is how you find out what actually works for you, what you’re willing to keep doing, and what falls apart in practice.

Labor Day gets dressed up as a long weekend, a sale at the mall, or maybe a cookout with burgers and beer. The original meaning is buried under discount flyers and corporate slogans about “honoring workers.” Most of it is noise. The day isn’t supposed to be about buying more things you don’t need. It was meant to acknowledge labor itself, the sweat, the calluses, the effort that keeps everything moving.

A small farm like ours only survives if we can talk directly to the people who care about it. That is why our newsletter matters more than any social media account ever could.

My grandfather ran a five-acre sheep farm in a small town in southern Colorado. His tools were worn smooth from years of his grip. His workday started before the sun and ended when the animals were fed and the fields were quiet. It was small, simple, and direct. You raised the animals, you sheared the wool, and you kept what you needed for your family. He died when I was eighteen. I am forty-one now, and Alexys and I farm a single acre in the Mid-Ohio Valley of West Virginia. The gap between his way of farming and ours could be measured in decades or in light years.

There is a not-so quiet assumption that “local” automatically means better. Better quality, better ethics, better treatment of workers, better for the environment. The moment a business is labeled local, it gets a halo and people stop asking questions.

Our website says we started farming to feed ourselves. And that's true, but it's not the whole story.

We didn't start a farm because we were chasing some pastoral fantasy or trying to live off the land in some Instagram-worthy way. We started because we were suffocating inside systems that demanded everything while giving back scraps.

When we think about currency, most of us picture dollars and cents. But there's another form of currency that flows through our communities every day, one that's far more essential than any paper bill: food.

Today’s the day.

The farm stand is officially open, and we’re somewhere between “this is awesome” and “why do we feel like we forgot literally everything?”

A balanced diet is essential for maintaining good health, and one way to ensure you're getting the right nutrients is by choosing locally raised farm products. At Carlton Hill Farm in Parkersburg, we proudly offer high-quality locally raised meat, farm-fresh eggs, and seasonal produce. By incorporating our products into your meals, you’re not only fueling your body with nutritious foods but also supporting sustainable, ethical farming practices in your community.

Raising meat rabbits isn’t just about production; it’s a daily rhythm of care, observation, and connection that brings a surprising sense of peace. The routine of tending to the rabbits—the quiet moments spent feeding, watering, and checking on each animal—offers a grounding effect that many farmers find deeply fulfilling.

At Carlton Hill Farm, wildflowers are more than a visual delight—they are key players in maintaining a sustainable and thriving ecosystem. These blooms contribute to biodiversity, enhance soil health, and provide essential support for pollinators and wildlife. Here’s an in-depth look at how wildflowers are woven into the fabric of our farm’s operations and why they matter so much.

The farm doesn't stop in the winter. We have animals to care for, projects to prepare us for the next season, and let's face it, does anyone with a Black Lab ever get a lazy day indoors? 

We’re excited to add a new garden area next Spring. Stick season slows us down enough to give us time to dream about what we want to grow. Depending on your growing zone, planting season can sneak up quick. Dedicating time in December and early January to plan ensures you'll have plenty of time to buy seeds and prep for sowing indoors.

In a world increasingly dominated by sprawling cities, concrete jungles, Zenith televisions, and Nintendo Power Glove ;) finding ways to live sustainably is more crucial than ever. Our family has embarked on a journey to create a small but thriving farm on just one acre of land, a testament to the fact that sustainable living can be achieved even on a modest scale.

Why 1 Acre is Enough:

One might think that a single acre wouldn't be enough for a farm, but we believe it's the perfect size.