Today at Briden Farm – Monday, July 27, 2026

Some mornings simply come a little slower than others.

By about 9:30 this morning I’d been awake for more than two hours, yet I still hadn’t really gotten moving. After the past couple of weeks—and especially the last couple of days—I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. Between making hay, worrying about Roscoe after he was struck by a passing truck, and the emotional weight that life sometimes brings, I was simply tired.

I always feel a little guilty when I get a slow start to the day. There’s a voice somewhere inside that says I should already be out accomplishing something. But another part of me knows that pacing myself is just as important. The chores will get done. Perhaps just at a slower pace today.

The morning chores here at home were completed as usual. The birds, chicks, chickens, Muscovies, Maple and Brooke, the pigs, and everyone else were fed and watered before I headed toward the barn.

One job still waiting is moving the pigs to fresh pasture. Normally they rotate about every two weeks, but with everything that’s happened recently they’ve stayed a little longer than planned. The girls continue to respect the electric fence well, and the piglets—born around May 13th—are now about two and a half months old and growing quickly.

By late afternoon, around five o’clock, there was really only one chore left for the day: closing up the chickens at dusk.

After checking the sheep, making sure they had fresh water and a little feed, I noticed they still had excellent pasture in front of them. Rather than walking back through their paddock, I chose to return by the road.

Partly, it was because I was simply tired. The road offered surer footing than the uneven pasture and avoided climbing the hill in the hot sunshine.

But there was another reason too.

Had I walked through the pasture, the sheep would almost certainly have gathered around me again. Nursing ewes are easy to spoil with a little extra grain, and while I enjoy keeping them friendly and easy to handle, today they really didn’t need another feeding. Sometimes the best thing a shepherd can do is simply keep walking.

Back at the house, I strained the morning’s goat milk into a bottle, finished the last few chores as evening settled in, and finally turned my thoughts toward supper.

Sometimes the simplest meals are the most satisfying.

Tonight’s meal was a Briden Farm heritage-raised pork steak, seasoned with Watkins Steak Seasoning and cooked in a well-seasoned cast iron skillet. Once the pork was done, thick wedges of russet potato went into the same pan to soak up every bit of flavour left behind. A little tea was added to deglaze the skillet, followed by a splash of water as it slowly reduced. Near the end came a little rosemary and salt, leaving the potatoes somewhere between pan-fried and gently simmered. A touch of HP Sauce on the side finished the meal.

It wasn’t fancy. 

It was hearty, full of flavour, and the kind of supper that might have been equally at home on a Nova Scotia farm—or perhaps in a country hotel or saloon a century and a half ago.

Looking back over the day, I realized it hadn’t been a day filled with exciting events or major accomplishments.

Instead, it was a reminder that even farmers have days when body and mind ask them to slow down.

The animals were cared for.

The chores got done.

A good meal was shared with the day.

And tomorrow…

The farm will be waiting once again.