This Week at Briden Farm
July 13–19, 2026
There are weeks on the farm that quietly come and go, and then there are weeks that remind you just how unpredictable—and rewarding—this life can be. This was certainly one of those.
The week began with the return of Beau. Sometimes, despite everyone’s best intentions, a puppy and a family simply aren’t the right match. An older couple brought him back, and while it was disappointing for them, it gave Beau another chance here at Briden Farm. Within hours he was reunited with Bear, River, Roscoe and his mother, Maple. Best of all, despite all the excitement, I hadn’t been bitten once. It felt like we were finally beginning to understand one another.
The days that followed settled back into the familiar rhythm of farm life. Lucy continued to keep us guessing as she carried her unborn kids well past the date many of us expected. Every morning brought another look toward the pasture, wondering if today would finally be the day. So far, she’s remained content to prove that goats don’t pay much attention to our calendars.
Patsy, on the other hand, continued providing fresh milk, allowing us to make another batch of homemade goat feta. There’s something deeply satisfying about taking milk collected only hours earlier and turning it into cheese that will soon find its way onto the supper table.
The sheep continued their rotational grazing, moving every four days onto fresh pasture. With each move the flock becomes calmer and more confident, and the young lambs are beginning to learn that following their mothers—and sometimes following me—usually leads to greener grass. Watching them grow more comfortable with each move is rewarding, and it reminds me that trust is built one small step at a time.
The farm also welcomed visitors this week. Friends stopped by to see the sheep and other animals, giving us another opportunity to share a little of what life at Briden Farm is all about. One of the greatest pleasures of farming isn’t simply raising livestock; it’s watching others discover the quiet joy that comes from spending time with them.
Like most weeks, there were plenty of ordinary chores that rarely make headlines. Chickens and ducks needed feeding. Rabbits and quail were cared for. The pigs continued their work turning over the soil while eagerly waiting for each meal. Water buckets were filled, fences checked, gates opened and closed, and countless little jobs quietly disappeared from the to-do list almost as quickly as they appeared.
One highlight of the week was Cherry Carnival Day. Although I wasn’t able to attend the festivities themselves, there was still a little taste of the celebration when friends returned with fresh cherries to share. It was a thoughtful reminder that community isn’t always about being present at an event; sometimes it comes home with those who were.
One evening I also enjoyed reconnecting with an old friend I hadn’t seen in several years. Conversations like that have a way of reminding us that while farms change, animals come and go, and seasons pass, friendships have a remarkable way of picking up right where they left off.
As the week drew to a close, another milestone quietly arrived. Bow, our young puppy, began asking to go outside rather than having accidents in the house. It may seem like a small achievement, but anyone who’s raised a puppy knows those little victories deserve celebrating.
Looking back, this wasn’t a week defined by one dramatic event. It was a week of rebuilding routines, strengthening trust, welcoming old friends, making cheese, caring for animals, and appreciating the simple blessings that often go unnoticed until we take the time to reflect.
Life at Briden Farm isn’t measured only by the big moments.
More often, it’s measured in fresh pasture, homemade cheese, puppy milestones, shared conversations, and the quiet satisfaction of ending each day knowing the animals are fed, the chores are finished, and tomorrow promises another adventure.
Until next week…
Brian Hurlburt
Briden Farm, Bear River, Nova Scotia
