.Today at Briden Farm: Thirty-Two Years… and Another Good Day

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Celebrating 32 Years of Sobriety

1 August 2026 

Good afternoon from Briden Farm.

Today has been one of those quieter days that reminds me just how much there is to be thankful for.

Thirty-two years ago today, I took my last drink of alcohol.

There have been many seasons since then—some filled with joy, others with heartache, and more than a few that tested my resolve. Through it all, I’ve been blessed with another day, another sunrise, and another opportunity to keep moving forward.

For that, I’m deeply grateful.

Thank you, God.

Thank you, Creator.

This morning began much like most mornings here at Briden Farm. After breakfast, hanging yesterday’s laundry on the line, and posting today’s headlines for Country Air Radio, I headed over to the barn side of the farm.

The rabbits were doing well.

The goats were happy.

The quail were content.

The sheep had settled beautifully into their new Bell Road Pasture after yesterday’s big move.

I milked Patsy, who has been just a little finicky lately, making sure she was well milked out so she stays comfortable and healthy. With only her daughter Rose nursing, she still has plenty of milk to spare, and keeping her healthy is always the priority.

I also walked back to the Bell Road Pasture to check that the flock had plenty of water. While I was there, I staged the fencing for Tuesday’s next move within the pasture. One advantage of rotational grazing is that there’s always another fresh paddock waiting just ahead.

After returning Lisa’s hand cart and making the walk home with Bo—who handled another long morning remarkably well—it was time for a simple lunch of a roast pork sandwich and, of course, a good cup of tea.

I had every intention of taking a nap this afternoon.

As often happens…

That didn’t happen.

Instead, I finished the home chores, looking after the chickens, broodies and chicks, the pigs, Maple and Brook.

Interestingly, once I got moving again, I actually felt better. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of pacing yourself and listening to your body. It turns out I was tired—but perhaps not quite as tired as I thought.

As the chores wound down this afternoon, another thought crossed my mind.

If I had a little truck sitting in the yard, I think I’d probably go for a drive. Maybe visit a friend. Maybe simply enjoy the freedom of the open road.

Instead, I think I’ll do something simpler.

I may just walk down into the village, check the mailbox—even though there won’t be any Saturday mail—and perhaps stop into the store for a few minutes to say hello.

Sometimes that’s enough.

One thing farming has taught me is that a rich life isn’t always measured by big moments.

Sometimes it’s measured by healthy animals.

A good cup of tea.

A quiet walk.

A friendly conversation.

Or simply taking a moment to stop and give thanks.

Thirty-two years ago, I made a decision that changed the direction of my life.

Today, I quietly celebrate that decision.

And then…

Tomorrow, I’ll get up and do it all again.

From all of us here at Briden Farm, thank you for following along on this journey.

Have a wonderful evening, and may God bless. 🌿🐑🍵 

Brian 

Briden Fafm 

Today at Briden Farm: Today Was one of those Days!

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Bell Road Pasture

July 31, 2026

Some days on a farm are about getting chores done.

Other days remind you why you started in the first place.

Today was one of those days.

This afternoon, our six ewes and their nine lambs made the journey to what we’ve come to call the Bell Road Pasture. For Barbara, Cloud, and Dolly, it was a familiar walk. They’ve made this trip several times over the past couple of years and know exactly where they’re going.

For the rest of the flock, however, it was something entirely different.

For this year’s nine lambs—and even for some of the younger ewes—today was their very first journey down the woodland trail to fresh pasture.

Watching that happen was something special.

I often tell people that the sheep follow me.

But after watching today’s video, you might find yourself asking a different question…

Who’s really following whom?

As always, Barbara, Cloud, and Dolly stepped confidently onto the trail. The others watched, trusted, and followed. That’s one of the wonderful things about sheep. Experience isn’t just learned by individuals—it’s passed from one generation to the next.

Those lambs weren’t simply walking to a new pasture.

They were learning.

They were learning that a move means fresh grass, fresh browse, fresh herbs, and another beautiful “salad bar” waiting just over the hill.

Here at Briden Farm, we usually rotate the sheep onto fresh pasture every four days. It’s a system that gives the flock a continual supply of natural forage while allowing previously grazed areas the time they need to recover.

The sheep benefit.

The land benefits.

And year after year, both continue to improve.

As I watched the flock disappear down the trail, I couldn’t help but think back.

Briden Farm became ours on August 4, 2020. A couple of weeks later, on August 20th, our first three goats arrived. Strangely enough, I remember the day the goats moved onto the farm even better than the day we moved in ourselves.

Back then, there were no sheep.

There was no Bell Road Pasture.

There was no Mary’s Barn.

Just a dream, a willingness to work, and a lot of brush that needed clearing.

In the fall of 2024, we first expanded into the Bell Road property and began using Mary’s Barn. The goats were the pioneers, browsing through brush and saplings, slowly opening up the land. About a month later, the sheep followed.

Looking at photographs from those first days, and then looking at the pasture today, it’s hard to believe it’s the same place.

Not because we brought in bulldozers or excavators.

But because goats browsed.

Sheep grazed.

Nature responded.

And little by little, year after year, the land became healthier.

That’s the beauty of stewardship.

It’s not about forcing nature to do what we want.

It’s about working with it, patiently, and allowing it to become what it was meant to be.

By late afternoon, the flock had settled quietly beneath the trees of the Bell Road Pasture, contentedly grazing as though they’d been there all their lives.

The pigs had already been moved earlier in the day.

Water buckets had been filled.

The gates were closed.

For the first time in a while, I felt caught up.

When I finally headed into the house, supper was waiting.

A couple of days ago, I’d made a pot of macaroni using my Mom Enid’s wonderfully simple recipe.

Mom passed over twenty-two years ago.

Yet somehow, every time I make that macaroni, she’s still here.

With a steaming plate of Mom’s macaroni and my faithful old tea pot quietly brewing another pot of tea, it was the perfect ending to a long day’s work.

Sometimes the richest life isn’t measured by how much we own.

It’s measured by healthy pastures.

By animals that trust us.

By old family recipes that still warm both the body and the heart.

And by the quiet satisfaction that comes from knowing you’ve left the land just a little better than you found it.

After five years of building Briden Farm, one pasture, one fence, one animal, and one day at a time, I wouldn’t trade days like today for anything.

“This is what happens when you give animals a job, rotate them thoughtfully, and give the land time to recover.”

Until next time…

From all of us here at Briden Farm, thank you for following along on our journey. Have a wonderful evening, and may God bless. 🌿🐑🍵 

Brian

Briden Farm 

 

Today at Briden Farm: A Life Worth Sharing

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Something to Share

Thursday, July 30, 2026

Good evening from Briden Farm.

This morning began much as many mornings do, with breakfast, the dishes, and getting ready for the day ahead. The rain had settled in, promising to water the pastures while slowing things down a little.

Before long, my niece Marilyn stopped by.

She had gone to the feed store yesterday looking for feed for her hens, only to discover they were sold out. Knowing I’d purchased feed in bulk for the month, she knew where she could find enough to get her through until the store was restocked.

That’s one of the nice things about country life.

Neighbours—and family—have always helped one another.

Later in the morning, another niece, Michelle, and her husband John arrived to pick up some of our Briden Farm heritage pork. John and I actually grew up together, so every visit brings back a few memories along with plenty of conversation.

They stayed longer than I’d expected.

I’m glad they did.

We sat down with a cup of tea, talked about life, and before long we found ourselves making another batch of goat cheese together. It’s always enjoyable sharing something you’ve learned with someone who’s interested in learning it too.

Before they headed home, they offered me a ride over to the barn. Along the way we picked up the mail, and Michelle also brought along a couple of loaves of bread I’d asked her to pick up for me.

At the barn we checked on the sheep, goats, rabbits and quail, milked Patsy, and took a little extra time to introduce them to the animals that call Briden Farm home.

After the chores were finished, they dropped me back at the house, where the evening chores still waited.

The chickens, birdies, broodies and chicks, Maple and Brooke were all looked after before I wandered over to check on the pigs in their new woodland pasture.

Yesterday’s work had certainly been worthwhile.

With fresh ground beneath their feet and a rainy day to enjoy, they looked exactly as the old saying promises…

Happy as pigs in mud.

As the day came to a close, I spent some time in the kitchen preparing supper. The meal itself became a reminder of just how far Briden Farm has come over the past few years.

Our own heritage pork, slow cooked until it was falling from the bone.

Mashed potatoes made with today’s cultured cream experiment instead of butter.

And homemade goat cheese, seasoned with garlic, onion, oregano, salt and pepper.

The pork surprised me. I wouldn’t normally think of pork as having a deep, rich, earthy flavour, but that’s exactly how I’d describe it. It simply tasted… natural.

The cultured cream gave the potatoes a light tang and enough richness that I never missed the butter.

And the cheese…

Creamy, full of flavour, and quickly becoming one of my favourite things we make here on the farm.

Looking around the table tonight, it struck me that this wasn’t an extraordinary meal because it was fancy.

It was extraordinary because, little by little, Briden Farm is producing more of what appears on the plate.

Perhaps that’s one of the quiet rewards of homesteading.

Not perfection.

Not self-sufficiency in every sense.

But the satisfaction of sitting down at the end of the day and tasting the results of months—and sometimes years—of work.

Brian

Briden Farm 

Today at Briden Farm: What A Blur!

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Moms Macaroni

Wednesday, July 29, 2026

Some days leave you with a long list of accomplishments.

Other days simply leave you tired.

This one was almost a blur!

The morning began as most mornings do these days. Before heading outside, I spent some time at the computer taking care of Country Air Radio, posting the latest news, answering a few things online, and getting caught up before turning my attention to Briden Farm itself.

Then it was breakfast and the morning chores.

The chickens, broodies and their chicks, Maple, Brooke, and everyone else here at the house were fed and looked after before I finally headed out.

By around midday, it was time to check on the pigs and the roosters over by the sumac. River and Bow came along for the outing while Roscoe stayed home to rest. Fresh feed and water were delivered before we returned to the house.

Then came the biggest job of the day.

It was finally time to move the pigs.

Normally they rotate to fresh pasture about every two weeks, but life had other plans this time. Between making hay, caring for Roscoe after he was struck by a passing truck, and everything else that has filled the past few weeks, this move had been delayed longer than I would have liked.

Before the pigs could move, a new woodland paddock had to be prepared.

Out came the gas trimmer.

Hundreds of feet of fence line had to be opened through brush, saplings and summer growth before a single fence post could be driven. By the time the trimming was finished, roughly fifty step-in posts had been set about every two paces, two strands of electric wire were run around the entire paddock, the solar charger was moved into place, and everything was tested before opening the gate for the pigs.

Watching them discover fresh ground always makes the work worthwhile.

By the time I finally made it back to the house, it was nearly five o’clock.

Earlier in the day I’d been thinking I might stop home for some leftover macaroni around dinnertime.

Instead…

Supper was dinnertime.

Thankfully, there was still plenty in the refrigerator. Like so many homemade meals, it seemed even better on the second day than it had on the first.

After eating, I took a short break—perhaps half an hour or so—before heading back out once again.

This time River and Bow joined me while Roscoe stayed home for a well-earned rest.

The evening barn chores included feeding the rabbits, goats, sheep and quail, milking Patsy, checking everyone over, and making sure all was well before heading home for the night.

Looking back now, I honestly couldn’t tell you exactly where every hour of yesterday went.

Some days are like that.

You simply keep putting one foot in front of the other, moving from one job to the next until, almost without realizing it, the sun has set and the work is done.

They are long days.

Hot days.

Exhausting days.

But they’re also the kind of days when your head finally reaches the pillow, and sleep comes easily, knowing that every animal has been cared for and another day at Briden Farm has come to a satisfying close.

Brian
BridenFarm.com