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Listening to my wife talk about dogs for hours.

Craft beer is dead. Like everything else it was bought out by big corporations, who wore its culture thin with exotic ingredients and ever higher alcohol content. Pick a regional mass market beer like Narragansett or Grain Belt as your go to and stop being so twee about it.

When you have been to the lumber yard and farm store before 9 am on a Saturday things are happening.

Not bad for an afternoon without plans or extra hands. Tomorrow I will cover it with wire and shade cloth and move the flock in.

Wiring took two of us most of the day. The chickens are not sure about summer camp, but do seem to be enjoying the extra space.

When they all want something on a Monday.

They will tell you we have no culture. Explain this then.

I have a chicken tractor. Now I need sheep lawnmowers and a goat to trim the verge.

Me: “God, give me purpose. What should I do?” Christ: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Me: “Oof.”

You are not a warrior-aristocrat, youngblood. You may never storm the halls of commerce or seize the levers of power. But you can meet a good women and raise some children and live the American Dream. No one will stop you.

Me and who else?

The easiest way to deal with spilling maple syrup in the pantry is for you to move.

Happy Independence Day, friends. God Bless America.

Yesterday on the Kancamagus Highway.

I love America. Every last bit of it.

Three Acres and a Cow.