Ugh, I know. You've heard that phrase roughly 11.2 billion times in the last few months, but it is currently 5am and the cow is hollering to be milked and the kids are up and want to watch a movie and I have been up since 4 and I think we are out of coffee and have something like 9 pounds of cheese to process before I can even think about breakfast, so I am all out of the snazzy catchy clickable titles that all the email marketing folks tell me I should use.

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And as cliche as that title may be, it is a good summary of where we are at with things. We spent the first few months of lockdown in a sort of weird panicked state. With all of our events cancelled and postponed, flour sales taking over our lives and a rising sense of overwhelm as things around the farm started falling further and further behind, we simply took each day as it came - the highs and the lows and the unending chaos of having two business and 3 children running circles around us. Until one day recently we looked up and realised we were tentatively adjusting to whatever it is we find ourselves in.

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So many things have shifted for us, our priorities sharpened and clearer. We decided last month to sell the sheep. First the soays went to live their wild lives on a big estate and then 2 others are going next week. They simply won't stay in and I can't spend my life chasing them. We've used the funds and time to invest more in the garden, hiring Lauren from Herbal Homestead to help us develop a larger kitchen garden for when events are up and running again. Vegetables don't escape (except for the odd bolting lettuce).

With the arrival first of Emmylou and then of June, our goat herd has hit 4 lovely girls and we are getting 4 litres of goats milk a day for cheese and soap. This is in addition to the 4 litres of creamy Jersey milk Petunia continues to supply and we count ourselves milk rich and time poor - but I could think of worse things to be. A new pig has also joined us - Loretta the KuneKune is just about the sweetest thing ever - her little pot belly dragging on the ground as she snuffles around after us. She is technically a companion for BoyBoy, but I am not sure Kevin has got that message.

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And so we scratch bellies and cuddle babies and milk and make cheese and ship flour and kits and meat boxes and go swimming and try to remember to weed the garden and hope the goats stop eating the beans and wonder if Theo ever stops talking. We watch for news and guidance on events like ours being able to run and we hope that we all get through this, not just Ok, but some how better than we were before.

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And in doing a small part to make the world we want to see, 5% of our profits this month are going to Land in Our Names, a grassroots organisation working for land reparations for People of Colour in the UK. Regenerative farming isn't just about our few acres, but about the whole system and this is one way we can help.

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Keep well, folks.

Kat & Kevin