Thank you so much for coming out and spending your morning with Emma and me in that library kitchen. Watching a room full of women make real cheese from scratch — and actually taste the difference — is exactly why I wanted to teach this class. You all were wonderful and we had the best time.

Thank you for being so kind to Emma, its been fun to watch her grow and I hope she is learning early how to serve women. She’s been my right hand in the kitchen since she was a tiny baby hanging around my cheese vat.

This post is because I want you to have everything you need right here in one place. Recipes, supply sources, sanitation tips, all of it.

Let’s talk cheese.

First things first — sanitation

This is the unglamorous part that nobody talks about enough. Clean equipment is the difference between beautiful cheese and a failed batch. Here’s my favorite method:

Put all your equipment inside your largest pot — colander, ladle, thermometer, knife, any molds. Add a couple inches of water, put the lid on, bring it to a boil and let it steam for ten minutes. Turn it off, leave the lid on until you’re ready to use everything. The pot itself is now sanitized too — pour out the water and you’re ready to go.

That’s it. No chemicals. No special products. Just steam.

The most important thing we talked about is…..MILK.

The milk is everything. Not your technique. Not your equipment. The milk.

Buy the best whole milk you can find. Fresh and local if possible. And never — ever — use ultra-pasteurized milk. Look for the word pasteurized on the label. If it says ultra-pasteurized or UHT put it back and find another brand. It will not curdle properly and you will be very sad.

If your wanting to milk your own animals are start a milking Co. like i have PLEASE reach out!! I would love to help you learn all about dairy animals, feeding and milk handling to get the BEST milk to start off with. Message through instagram or email me at nicoleelfarm@icloud.com

What we made Monday:

We made ricotta from scratch — start to finish together. We also worked on a batch of feta already in progress so you could see what set curds look like and how we cut them. We also tastde my homemade chèvre alongside everything else and had fun compareing all three side by side.

Same milk. Three completely different cheeses. That’s the magic of milk.

The FIVE things that we used to make cheese:

Acid — heat plus acid equals ricotta. Simple, fast, no waiting. This is where we’re starting Monday.

Culture — living bacteria that acidify the milk, develop flavor, and help it set properly. Think sourdough starter. Without the right culture you get unpredictable results. With it you get consistent delicious cheese every time. The culture I use is Flora Danica — a mesophilic blend that works at moderate temperatures around 86-90°F. Perfect for chèvre and feta.

Rennet — a coagulating enzyme that causes milk proteins to clump together into a solid curd. Extraordinarily potent — just 2-4 drops sets an entire gallon of milk. Always dilute in cool non-chlorinated water before adding. Chlorine deactivates rennet completely.

Calcium chloride — an optional addition most useful when working with store bought pasteurized milk. Pasteurization weakens the calcium structure of milk which can make curds soft and difficult to set properly. A small amount of calcium chloride — no more than 1/4 teaspoon per gallon diluted in cool non-chlorinated water — restores that calcium and helps your curds set firm and clean. If you’re using fresh raw milk straight from a healthy animal you generally don’t need it.

Lipase — a natural enzyme that breaks down fat molecules in milk releasing fatty acids that create a sharp pungent tangy flavor. Most commonly added to cow’s milk cheese to mimic the stronger flavor of traditional sheep or goat milk feta. Goat’s milk already contains significantly higher levels of naturally occurring lipase — adding it would be like adding hot sauce to something already perfectly spiced. If you’re making feta from cow’s milk a small amount of lipase gives you that distinctive sharp flavor. If you’re using goat’s milk — skip it entirely. The flavor you want is already built into the milk itself.

Where to get supplies:

New England Cheesemaking Supply — cheesemaking.com
This is my go-to. Cultures, rennet, cheesecloth, butter muslin, molds, thermometers — everything in one place. Their beginner kits are genuinely good value.

Cultures for Health — culturesforhealth.com
Great source for starter cultures specifically. Good beginner resources too.

Your grocery store
Everything you need for ricotta is already there — whole milk, white vinegar, , salt. Start here before you buy anything special.

NOTE: dont buy cheesecloth from HEB or Walmart,the weave is much too big, use a cotton muslin fabric or a cheese specific cloth from a cheese supply.

Amazon
Thermometers, colanders, butter muslin. Search “cheese making supplies” and you’ll find everything else.

The recipes:

All three recipes — ricotta, chèvre, and feta — are right below this post. Print them out. Put them in your kitchen. Make something real this week while it’s still fresh.

One last thing

I am so glad you came and I cannot wait to hear about all the cheese success— you can absolutely make it at home.

Thank you again for coming. You made our Monday.

Nicole and Emma — Eden’s Lilly Farm — La Feria, Texas

follow me @INSTAGRAM!

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Btor One Page September 26 Recipes Cheese Ricotta Chevre Feta

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Morning comes slower now. The first light of October stretches pale across the grove and the air carries the scent of basil and damp soil. From the barn comes the quiet shuffle of our baby donkey, already part of the rhythm here though he’s still learning his work.

The goats—those old friends of mine—are heavy with October kids, waddling like little pumpkins. We bred the Nigerian Dwarfs late so I can share-milk through the cooler months, while the donkeys begin their training for the quiet work ahead—hauling feed and helping in the orchard. The chickens have shifted too: after a year of broody surprises we ended up with far too many roosters, so we thinned the flock for the freezer and—after a twilight rodeo of chasing, gathering, and snatching sleepy hens from their roosts—moved the girls into their snug fall-and-winter coop, where the eggs are easier to find and the garden is safe from all their scratching.

The garden itself stands with one foot in summer and the other in fall—old heirloom squash and patty pans glowing like late-summer lanterns, okra still stretching toward the fading heat, cucumbers filling the pickle jars, basil perfuming the air. In the seed trays, winter waits: cabbage, broccoli, onions. Soon we’ll scatter clover and ryegrass for the animals, and I’ll wait a bit before turning them onto the sorghum—after a frost it needs time to sweeten and settle before it’s safe for grazing.

This month I keep thinking about transitions—how the homestead moves from one season to the next not with abrupt endings but with quiet, steady layers of work and wonder. Some shifts are about gardens and animals, yes—but others are deeper, reshaping the heart of the farm itself.

That’s the story I share in this month’s Wheelhouse: From Goats to Donkeys + A Homesteader’s Shift in Seasons. It’s about saying goodbye to the daily rhythm of the dairy that shaped me, and learning to embrace the quiet, sustainable strength of donkeys. It’s about how God uses even these changes—sometimes painful, sometimes tender—to remind me that my worth isn’t in gallons of milk or rows of fruit, but in being His.

“It was never just milking goats. It was 4:30 a.m. alarms and barn births in the hush before sunrise; buckets of warm milk lowered into icy brine; the discipline of showing up every single day whether I felt like it or not. That kind of work gets into your bones—in the best and hardest ways—and somewhere along the way consistency became its own art.”✨

📌 Tip: Each photo or section in this email is clickable — open them up to dive deeper into that part of the story. At the end of each section, you’ll find this month’s subscriber-only printables. For September, that means recipe cards and a kombucha guide ready to tuck into your binder.

Writing, photographing, and creating printables takes time — but it’s the work I love. Subscriptions help cover the costs and keep these stories coming. If you’d like to support it, you can subscribe for free or choose a paid option.

From Goats to Donkeys + A Homesteader’s Shift in Seasons (Wheelhouse)

From Goats to Donkeys
Farming is never static; it moves with the seasons, our energy, and the lessons we gather along the way. This month’s Wheelhouse is about shifting rhythms — from goats that have carried us for years to donkeys who now step into new roles, and from a season of constant output into one of rest, recalibration, and fresh vision. It’s a reminder that homesteading isn’t just about animals or gardens — it’s about listening to the land, our families, and God’s timing in the work we’re given.

✨ Click here to read the full story: From Goats to Donkeys + A Homesteader’s Shift in Seasons.✍️

Accounts We Love to Follow: @madenewfarmstead

This month we have an article on why quail are a gateway homesteading animal to start with! If you’ve ever wondered how quail can fit into homestead life, @madenewfarmstead is a gem to follow. Their feed is full of practical wisdom — from raising small flocks and managing homestead rhythms, to sharing glimpses of the beauty (and reality) of farm life. What I love most is how they take something that can feel complicated and make it simple and doable.

Whether you’re dreaming of adding quail to your backyard or just want to be encouraged by another family living this rooted, from-scratch life, you’ll find both inspiration and community here.

Spotlight: Lisa Bass / Farmhouse on Boone

Who she is:
Lisa Bass is the creative force behind Farmhouse on Boone. She’s a mom of 8 children, a homeschooler, and a passionate advocate of simple, hands-on living. Her work centers on sourdough baking, from-scratch cooking, sewing, homesteading, and restoring their farmhouse. Farmhouse on Boone

What she shares:

• Whole-food & sourdough recipes — her blog is packed with breads, fermented foods, and real food staples.

• Handmade & home projects — sewing tutorials, DIY home ideas, and cozy living tips.

• Homestead life & family rhythm — glimpses into daily life, faith, homeschooling, and building a legacy.

• Podcast & YouTube presence — she hosts Simple Farmhouse Life, sharing longer conversations, behind-the-scenes, and encouragement.

Why I love them:
Lisa’s voice feels real. She doesn’t just show the finished projects — she shares the mistakes, the learning, and the daily grind of balancing creativity, family, and growth. If you’ve ever wanted to see how someone actually builds a life on the land (while raising a big family), her feed is gold.

Where to follow:

• Instagram: @farmhouseonboone Instagram

• Blog: farmhouseonboone.com Farmhouse on Boone

• Podcast: Simple Farmhouse Life podcast

• YouTube: Farmhouse on Boone

Before You Go
Don’t forget — this month’s printables (recipe cards, canning guide, chick guide that you can use for quail) are waiting for you in the subscriber section of each article.

If today’s newsletter encouraged you, would you do me a favor? Share it with a friend who might love a little farm-fresh encouragement in their inbox, too.

And if you’d like to help keep this work going, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Your support helps me carve out the time to write, teach, and share more of the rhythms that root our family — and I’m so grateful for each of you who make this space possible.

✨ [Click to Upgrade to Here]

October Recipes – Valley Heritage Meets Sourdough

1. Calabacitas Guisado con Queso
   Squash, peppers, onions, and tomatoes simmered together, finished with melted cheese.

2. Corn & Goat Cheese Empanadas
   Flaky pastry hand pies filled with roasted corn and tangy goat cheese.

3. Sourdough Tortillas
   Soft, tangy tortillas that stretch your starter into everyday meals.

4. Sourdough Pumpkin Waffles
   Fall breakfast magic — light, crisp waffles with a sourdough tang and pumpkin warmth.

   CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE RECIPES PAGE!

Jelly-making is an old form of food preservation. Long before freezers or canning jars, cooks boiled down fruit with honey or sugar until it thickened, then sealed it in clay pots or glass with a layer of wax. It wasn’t only about flavor — it was about survival. Those jars held onto the calories, minerals, and vitamins of summer fruit so they could be eaten during the winter, when fresh food was scarce. Jelly added brightness to plain meats or grains, yes, but more importantly it stretched nutrition across the lean months.

And that hasn’t changed. Jelly isn’t just about sugar and fruit. It’s about gathering what would otherwise be fleeting — the last figs, the windfall citrus, the handful of peppers that won’t ripen further. Instead of loss, we get preservation. Instead of waste, we get jars that not only brighten breakfasts in January or turn a plain biscuit into something memorable, but also carry forward the nourishment that keeps our families strong. What once sustained our great-grandmothers through hard winters can still sustain us today — a practical, beautiful way of making the most of what the land gives.

Jelly, Jam, Preserves & Marmalade — What’s the Difference?

People often use the words interchangeably, but each has its own place in the kitchen:

• Jelly – Made from clear fruit juice. Smooth and translucent, like apple or grape jelly.

• Jam – Made with crushed or mashed fruit. Thick, with bits of fruit throughout (think strawberry jam).

• Preserves – Fruit cooked down with sugar until soft and spreadable, but still with chunks of fruit. This is what I often make quickly on the stove with odds and ends — a “fridge preserve” eaten within the week.

• Marmalade – Citrus-based, made with juice and thin slices of peel, giving it a bittersweet balance. Grapefruit or orange marmalade is classic.

All four share the same heart: stretching a season, saving nutrition, and making the harvest last.

Everyday Preserves in Our Kitchen

Not every jar needs to be sealed for the cellar. The best and freshest fruit and herbs should be saved for jars that will be sealed for the cellar or pantry. Though around here, I also love to save odds and ends — a handful of soft berries, a mealy apple, or fruit that’s just a little too ripe to eat fresh. While I’m cooking dinner, I’ll toss those scraps into a pan with a few spoonfuls of sugar or honey and let them simmer low and slow on the back of the stove. By the time supper’s ready, I have a quick fridge preserve that we’ll use during the week.

It spreads beautifully on English muffins, waffles, or toast. The girls stir a spoonful into sparkling water with a squeeze of lemon for a homemade soda. And sometimes I even flavor kombucha with it. These quick-use preserves aren’t about long-term storage — they’re about honoring every last bit of fruit and making sure nothing goes to waste and adding flavor to everyday!

Resources & Flavors for October

Here are a few combinations that work beautifully this time of year:

• Fig & Citrus Jelly – figs simmered with orange or grapefruit juice.

• Pepper Jelly – jalapeños blended with apple juice for a sweet-heat spread.

• Grapefruit Marmalade – juice + thinly sliced peel for brightness.

• Fridge Preserves – any fruit scraps, cooked down with sugar or honey, for quick use.

::::::WARNING:::::

Ratios of sugar/honey fruit and spices is not important if you plan to set it in the fridge and eat immediately or freeze to eat immediatly when you thaw it out. BUT IF YOU WANT SHELF STABLE… your acid ( lemon juice), Sugar and fruit ratios are IMPORTANT to kill bacteria for shelf life, so look for canning approved recipes.

Here is a basic rules to follow… but I will add specific links for you below if you want them!

Nicole’s Quick End-of-the-Week Jelly 🍯

When you’ve got odds and ends of fruit that are too soft to eat but not moldy:

1. Chop or mash fruit (apples, berries, citrus, even peppers).

2. Add a splash of water + a spoonful of sugar or honey. Maybe a bit of citrus.

3. Simmer on low while you cook dinner until it thickens.

4. Store in the fridge, use within the week.

Use on toast, waffles, muffins, or stir into sparkling water for a homemade fruit soda or in your kombuchas.

Recipes and how to cards and ebooks Below!

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Kombucha, but make it bubbly... and boozy.
If you’ve already dipped your toes into the world of regular kombucha, then brewing hard kombucha is just the next natural step. Think of it like sourdough’s mischievous older cousin—it’s still alive, still full of good bacteria, but it’s got a little more kick. Perfect for porch sipping on a summer evening or as a fun, fizzy gift from your home kitchen.

In this guide, I’ll show you exactly how we make hard kombucha with champagne yeast—a simple second-fermentation method that takes your homemade booch from tea-time tonic to party-ready sparkle.

🫖 First Things First: You Need a Base Brew

Before you can make hard kombucha, you need plain, unflavored kombucha that’s already gone through its first fermentation (F1).

👉 Here’s my guide on how to make kombucha from scratch if you need it.

Once it’s tangy and balanced—somewhere between sweet tea and vinegar—you’re ready to kick things up a notch.

🧪 What You’ll Need

For a 1-gallon batch:

• 1 gallon finished kombucha (first fermentation, SCOBY removed)

• 1 cup white cane sugar

• 1 cup water

• ¾ tsp champagne yeast (like EC-1118 or Lalvin)

• A clean gallon jar or jug

• An airlock lid OR a loosely screwed mason jar lid

• Swing-top bottles or beer bottles for bottling

• Optional: fruit juice or herbs for flavoring

🥄 Step-by-Step: How to Make Hard Kombucha

1. Activate the Yeast

Start by making a yeast slurry:
In a small pot, warm 1 cup of water just enough to dissolve 1 cup of sugar. Let it cool down to around 90–100°F (no hotter or you’ll kill the yeast). Stir in your ¾ tsp of champagne yeast and let it sit for 10–15 minutes until it’s foamy and alive-looking.

This is your fermentation booster.

2. Combine With Your Brew

In your clean gallon jar, pour in your finished kombucha (SCOBY removed). Then, stir in the yeast slurry.

Don’t use your starter tea or SCOBY here—this is where the alcohol starts rising, and they’re not invited to this party. 😉

3. Cover & Ferment (Anaerobic Style)

Seal your jar with an airlock lid OR a mason jar lid loosely screwed on. You want gas to escape, but not oxygen getting in.

Let this sit in a warm spot (around 75–85°F) for 7 to 14 days.

You’ll know it’s working when it smells a little more yeasty, gets slightly bubbly, and the color shifts a bit lighter. The longer you ferment, the drier and boozier it’ll become.

4. Bottle & Flavor (Optional)

Once you’re happy with the fermentation:

• Pour into swing-top bottles or pressure-safe mason jars.

• Optional: Add a splash of fruit juice, herbs, or whole fruit to each bottle.

• Seal them up and let them sit at room temperature for another 2–3 days to build carbonation.

• Then refrigerate and enjoy!

Be careful not to over-ferment in the bottle—check one after 48 hours. You don’t want a geyser when you pop the top.

🍷 How Strong Is It?

This hard kombucha will typically clock in around 4–7% ABV, depending on how much sugar you added and how long it fermented. Want it stronger? Add more sugar during the yeast step and let it go longer—but always bottle with caution.

If you’re curious, you can use a hydrometer to test sugar levels before and after fermenting to calculate alcohol content more accurately.

🌿 Favorite Flavors to Try

Once you get the hang of it, the flavor combos are the fun part. A few of our go-to’s:

• 🍑 Peach + Ginger

• 🍓 Strawberry + Basil

• 🫐 Blueberry + Lemon Zest

• 🌸 Hibiscus + Lime

• 🍍 Pineapple + Jalapeño (just a sliver!)

You can add these to the second fermentation bottles for fizz and flavor—or infuse later by straining into a pitcher before serving.

💛 Why I Love Hard Kombucha

Making hard kombucha feels like a little rebellion—like putting on red lipstick to muck the barn. It’s still good for your gut, still made with care, but has a little edge to it. And in a world full of sugary cocktails and overpriced seltzers, there’s something wildly satisfying about pouring a chilled glass of something you made yourself.

Plus, it’s cheap, fun, and just the tiniest bit fancy.

🧺 Bonus Tips From the Farmhouse:

• Don’t go too wild with fruit in the bottle—it can cause pressure explosions. A little goes a long way.

• Label your bottles with the date and flavor. You will forget. Ask me how I know.

• You can reuse the dregs of your hard kombucha as a new starter—but it’s best to keep a separate SCOBY for your regular batches.

• Taste often and take notes. Your “perfect” brew might take some trial runs.

Links:https://homebrewersassociation.org/beer-food/how-to-make-hard-kombucha/

The mornings finally feel different. Not cool exactly, but softer—like the sun is letting us breathe again. October is when I lean into the work that will carry us through winter, one bed and one tray at a time.

The broccoli and cabbage transplants I started in September are ready to move out. I set them under the filtered light of the mesquite trees so they can harden off slowly, watering them in with compost tea. I’ve learned they grow sturdier when they aren’t rushed.

Along the fence line, I sowed a scatter of clover and ryegrass—green feed for the goats and chickens come December. It feels good to know I’m sowing for the animals and not just us.

By the garden gate, my herb pots of cilantro, dill, and parsley are thriving. I snip a handful of cilantro in the morning for eggs, then leave the rest to soak up the gentle light.

At the end of each week, I walk the rows with a basket, pulling the weeds that creep back and laying down another layer of mulch over kale, collards, and chard. It’s a simple rhythm—sow, transplant, water, mulch, repeat—but it’s what turns this season from bare beds into a garden that will feed us all winter.

What We’re Planting This October

Root Crops (direct sow):

• Beets — keep sowing for a continuous crop.

• Carrots — stagger sowings for harvests that carry you through winter.

• Radishes — quick and reliable, perfect for salads and grazing.

• Turnips — greens and roots both thrive in cool fall conditions.

Leafy Greens:

• Kale & Collards — hardy staples for the winter table.

• Spinach — October is the sweet spot for tender leaves.

• Swiss Chard — colorful, resilient greens that last well into winter.

Brassicas (seed or transplants):

• Broccoli, Cabbage, Cauliflower, Brussels Sprouts — start a second round in trays for an extended harvest window or tuck transplants into waiting beds.

Legumes:

• Fava Beans — thrive in cool weather and enrich the soil.

• Sugar Snap Peas — climb a trellis and give sweet, crisp pods into winter.

Lettuce:

• Looseleaf and head lettuces — plant successions every 2–3 weeks for a steady harvest.

Herbs:

• Cilantro, Parsley, Dill — sow now for bright green bunches through the cooler months.

• Chervil and Chives — delicate herbs that love fall’s gentler light.

Alliums:

• Garlic — plant cloves now for next summer’s harvest.

• Onion Sets — choose short-day varieties suited to our southern latitude.

• Shallots — small but flavorful, and excellent for winter cooking.

Why Plant Now?

October is the hinge of the year. The summer garden is waning, but the soil is still warm enough to push seeds into quick germination. By tucking in roots, brassicas, and leafy greens now, you secure harvests for the cold months when the days are short and the pantry feels bare.

In trays this month:

• Brassicas (broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts) — for staggered planting.

• Swiss chard — quick germination keeps greens rolling in.

• Herbs (cilantro, parsley, dill) — trays give better germination control than open beds.

October Animal Food: Planting Green for Winter

By October, the last of the cowpeas are being grazed down and the summer pastures look thin. The rains have eased, and the animals are hungry for something green. This is when fall sowing really pays off. Ryegrass and clovers start sprouting in the cooler nights, and small grains like oats and rye take root, promising a steady winter pantry.

Sowing in October:

• Small grains (oats, rye, triticale): fast to establish, reliable for bulk cattle feed.

• Annual ryegrass: quick green forage that goats, sheep, and poultry love.

• Clover mixes (crimson, arrowleaf, vetch): add protein to pastures and fix nitrogen in the soil.

• Forage brassicas (turnips, hybrid mixes): leafy energy and root crops for pigs, goats, and sheep.

Harvest/Feeding in October:

• Cowpeas: still holding from late summer, great forage for goats and pigs.

• Early ryegrass & clovers: just tall enough to clip or lightly graze for goats and poultry.

• Crop residues (corn stalks, sunflower stems, garden pull-outs): supplement pigs and cattle as fields transition.

Who It Feeds:

• Cattle: shifting from cowpeas to oats and ryegrass.

• Goats & Sheep: relish tender brassica leaves and young clovers.

• Pigs: thrive on brassica roots, sunflower stalks, and garden scraps.

• Chickens: scratch happily through ryegrass, clover sprouts, and leftover seed heads.

There’s a reason this dish has lived in so many Valley kitchens for generations. Calabacitas is humble, made from what the garden gives: squash, tomatoes, peppers, onions. Yet when you let those flavors mingle in a skillet and finish it with cheese, it turns into something far more than the sum of its parts. On our farm, it’s the kind of quick meal I can stir together after chores, using the squash that won’t keep long and the peppers I roasted on Sunday for the week. It’s comfort food, but it’s also a way of honoring the harvest.

🌽 Corn & Goat Cheese Empanadas

Hand pies always feel like a treat — something special you tuck into a lunch basket or serve warm on a cool evening. These empanadas bridge our life beautifully: corn, a staple of the borderlands, folded around the tang of our own goat cheese. They’re flaky, portable, and filling — the kind of food that works for field lunches, busy homeschool days, or a gathering of friends. Making them is a little project, but one worth doing with the kids at the counter, pressing the dough circles and sealing edges with a fork.

🌾 Sourdough Tortillas

Tortillas are a daily bread here in South Texas — not something reserved for holidays, but the base of everyday meals. Replacing store-bought with sourdough tortillas has been one of the most satisfying swaps in my kitchen. They’re soft, tangy, and deeply nourishing. These are the tortillas that wrap leftover roast into tacos, turn beans into a full meal, or get buttered hot from the pan and eaten straight off the stove while everyone waits for dinner. We make them in a huge batch on a prep day and freeze them for busy work days, or days homeschool drug on for more hours than I hoped.

🎃 Sourdough Pumpkin Waffles

When the mornings start to cool, even just slightly here in the Valley, I crave warm spices and hearty breakfasts. These sourdough pumpkin waffles taste like fall on a plate — golden, crisp on the outside, fluffy inside, with just enough tang from the starter to balance the pumpkin. They’re easy enough for a weekday but special enough for Saturday brunch. The kids love them with whipped cream, while I sneak mine with butter and a drizzle of honey from the pantry. It’s a recipe that makes the kitchen smell like October, even if the air outside still feels like summer. Also something I double and freeze for those crazy Sunday mornings!

Click these links for the in depth blog posts I use OR download the simpler recipe cards below!

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I didn’t realize how much of my identity was wrapped up in the dairy until I started saying goodbye to it. I am still saying goodbye three years later.

It was never just milking goats. It was 4:30 a.m. alarms and barn births in the hush before sunrise; buckets of warm milk lowered into icy brine; the discipline of showing up every single day whether I felt like it or not. I began as a free spirit, but the dairy taught me to love routine, to see beauty in repetition. That kind of work gets into your bones—in the best and hardest ways—and somewhere along the way consistency became its own art. Together we built something with our hands and backs that fed thirty or forty families, week after week, year after year. Boy did I love that!

When we moved to the orchard, we sold the dairy buildings, but many of the goats came with me—old friends I had watched their mothers delivering and wiped their new faces clean, I watched them nurse for the first time, some born weaker I bottle-fed through midnight hours. I’ve milked them through heatwaves and rare cold snaps, watched them kid in the quiet hours, and poured years of love and labor into their care. Some have been with us nearly a decade.

But the land—and our lives—are changing. Three full years of CSA harvests are now behind us. Drought, deep freezes, and age have taken their toll on the orchard; many trees are gone. We’re pausing, taking a breath, choosing to replant slowly and with the long view in mind. Meanwhile there is no fruit to sell and no dairy to carry to market. And with that shift come the quiet questions:

“What animals do we truly need?”
“What brings us joy?”
“What serves the land instead of draining it?”
“How do we feed our family and still have energy left to serve our community?”

Even as the milk pails grow lighter, the dream remains: a farm that feeds us now—and is ready to feed the next generation. That dream has meant letting go. We have already said goodbye to many goats, and now October brings the hardest step yet: letting go of more. We’ll keep only the 4-H animals and a few that are dearest to us, but the choosing has been painful. My days and our feed bills are already full, and love alone can’t stretch them farther. And in that very limitation, the Lord is asking us to hold even these dear ones with open hands.

Into that quiet space something new has taken root: donkeys. We chose them not only as companions but as a more sustainable answer to the real cost of farming. They thrive on simple pasture, ask for little beyond hay and shade, and give back quiet strength—hauling citrus crates, pulling a cart, carrying loads a tractor once managed without a drop of fuel or the expense of grain. Their slow, sure work is the kind of economy our farm needs now, and their steady presence softens the ache of saying goodbye to so many goats.

This is the rhythm I hope my children—and their children—will inherit: a homestead that feeds today and is planted for tomorrow. I picture homes tucked between future trees, cousins riding donkeys through the citrus rows, goat kids leaping in the shade, all helping with harvests they have known since they could walk. More than anything, I pray that as the land feeds their bodies, their souls will be rooted in Christ—that they will find their truest life in Him and let their work be worship, never their identity.

“The pails may be lighter, but the calling is deeper.”

The goats taught me to love the daily rhythm of milking and mothering; the donkeys now show me how to carry that rhythm forward with quiet strength and patience. And through each slow shift the Lord keeps reminding me that my worth isn’t measured in gallons of milk or rows of fruit, but in being His.

THE RISE OF THE EQUINE

Next month I’ll share the longer story of how Firecracker the pony and our donkeys found their new purpose in the orchard.

You don’t need a big barn or perfect timing to start your homestead dreams. Sometimes, all it takes is a tiny egg and a tiny bird to remind you that you can do this. Start small, grow slow, and build the life you’ve been longing for—one quiet step at a time.
#QuailFirst #HomesteadingJourney #StartWhereYouAre

The Gateway to the Gateway (or Why You Might Start With Quail Instead of Chicks)

If you’re dreaming of homegrown eggs but don’t have land yet... girl, I have news. You can start now. No coop. No acreage. No waiting on “someday.”

Everyone talks about baby chicks being the gateway animal. And I get it. That soft fluff? The tiny peeps? The way they fall asleep mid-step like toddlers in a car seat? Irresistible.

But can I let you in on a secret?

Before there were chicks… there were quail.

Yes, quail. The gateway to the gateway. The animal you start with before you even think you’re ready. We grew so many when the boys where small.

We’ve had them in the bathroom, on the porch, in a converted rabbit hutch, and I’ve even seen folks keep them in their kid’s bedroom. Not saying that’s ideal… but listen, if the dream is strong and the space is small, you make it work.

Unlike chicks, quail don’t take up much room. They don’t need an outdoor coop. And Coturnix quail? They’re tidy, surprisingly quiet, and start laying at just 6–8 weeks old. Six to eight weeks! That’s barely two months, and you’ve got your first egg.

And not just eggs—they give you meat too. All the males can be harvested at 8 weeks. So if you’re trying to learn how to raise food, how to butcher respectfully, how to do the whole homestead thing in miniature… quail are your crash course.

I’m not knocking chicks—they’re what hooked me. Chicks taught me everything from biosecurity to predator-proofing, and how to think like a chicken. But they also came with a bigger learning curve: brooder setups, more cleaning, more noise, much more time ( 6 months instead of 6 weeks till laying age), much bigger losses when the racoons broke in, and eventually, the need for land and a proper coop.

Quail, though? Quail meet you where you are.

They’ll teach you the rhythms: daily feed and water, cleaning trays, gathering eggs. They’ll show your kids the cycle of life—how fast it moves, how sweet it is. And if it’s not the right season? If something shifts and you need to take a break? Well… they’ll still bless your table. That’s the truth.

And that part—that full-circle beauty—has taught me more than I expected.

So if your heart is leaning toward this life… don’t wait.

Start with quail. And when that day comes that you finally bring home chicks or goats or a garden full of greens… you’ll already have your feet under you.

Let quail be your practice run. You’ll learn the rhythms of feeding, watering, cleaning, and gathering eggs—all on a small scale.

Why Quail Make Sense for Small-Space Homesteaders:

• Apartment-friendly

• Tiny eggs, fast production

• Mature quickly (6–8 weeks!)

• Quieter than chickens

• Minimal smell and mess

• Easy to clean and manage

• Can be a good into into butchery

• Quick protien source.

  Plus, they give you real food. Yes, those cute speckled eggs are edible, delicious, and packed with nutrients. In many cultures, quail eggs are prized for their health benefits.

Thinking of getting started? More details below!

You don’t need a big barn or perfect timing to start your homestead dreams. Sometimes, all it takes is a tiny egg in a tiny bird to remind you that you can do this. Start small, grow slow, and build the life you’ve been longing for—one quiet quail at a time.
#QuailFirst #HomesteadingJourney #StartWhereYouAre

Below you will find links and resources on where to find your quail, and a downloadeable quail pros and cons list!

BTOR October 24 Pros And Cons Of Quail On The Homestead

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It wasn’t just recreation — it was restoration. The kind of healing you don’t notice at first but feel settling into your body over time. I read on a rock while my feet trailed in the current. I floated weightless until my mind quieted. The children swam, played, and shouted their joy into the open sky. And together, we lived by the rhythm of the water — something no clock, chore, or list could dictate.

But seasons turn, as they always do. September is here and fall pressing in with its own tempo. Gardens waiting for cool-weather plantings. Goats swelling with kids. Lessons to weave into days, even though much of our schooling happens in summer. Endless projects lined up like impatient guests: bedrooms to finish, adobe planters to build, a barn kitchen to imagine.

The river, once daily, became a memory I carried in my skin — the feeling of water, sun, and stillness. And I found myself asking: how do I carry that home? What does it look like to keep a ritual of rest and possibly water alive when the current isn’t at my doorstep?

That’s when the pigs come to mind. Their pen has a leak that turned into something else—a shallow pond that somehow holds water, thanks to their endless wallowing. Old-timers used to say pigs could seal a pond with their own bodies, packing mud into clay until it became watertight. I’ve seen it now with my own eyes. Ugly as it is, there’s something about it that sparks my imagination.

What if? What if I fenced it off, planted its edges, left it to see what it might become? What if this muddy accident could grow into something that gave us a taste of what the river gave me this summer? I wouldn’t swim there, not yet, but maybe it’s a beginning. Maybe it’s proof that rest and water and sun can be invited closer to home, even on a farm where the list of “have to’s” never ends.

I keep picturing my children there, too. Not just bent over schoolwork or chores, but splashing, reading, sun-warmed and laughing, the way they were in the river. I want that for them as much as I want it for myself. A place where water washes the noise away, where the sun builds strength in our bones, where we all remember that rest is as necessary as work.

Maybe it will never happen. Maybe the pond will dry up or stay nothing more than a pig wallow. But the idea has already done its work in me. It has reminded me that not everything worth pursuing is efficient or practical. Some things are worth chasing simply because they sustain us. The river taught me that. And now, perhaps, the pigs are reminding me: rest can be made, even here, even at home.

Maybe you’ve wondered about this too — how to keep water close, how to make a ritual of rest when rivers or seasons change. I’ve started gathering ideas: old claw-foot tubs tucked into gardens, stock tanks shaded by oaks, tiny natural ponds that double as wildlife havens. If you’d like to wander with me through these possibilities, I’ve saved them here as a Pinterest thread of water dreams. Click through, add your own finds, and let’s see what grows.

Still—despite the heat—September kicks off a season of work and hope.

Work: we begin sowing in the fall garden Jake started reclaiming last month, coaxing little seeds to germinate—sometimes with a little irrigation, and sometimes after a few weeks in the colder walk-in fridge to give those lettuce plants (that don’t like to sweat) a head start. I begin milking again in earnest, pulling off the goat kids born in May who have been doing the milking chores for me all summer. I’m also hoping a few does I bred last spring will kid this month.

Hope: I welcome back habits I’ve let slip—starting with kombucha. A small, fizzy ritual that’s part gut-health, part stewardship, and part joy. There’s something about making things from scratch again that anchors me, no matter how hot or wild the days are.

And with milk flowing again, I can’t help but think of the many raw milk conversations I’ve had over the years—some people adoring it, others fearing it. I’ve spent years researching and experimenting to de-mystify it. Below, I’ve written my thoughts and findings into an article that I hope will give you a glimpse into milk’s history, how to keep it clean, why it matters, and a bit about how we do it here.

CLICK ON THE PHOTOS BELOW TO GO TO THE ARTICLES LINKED WITH EACH ONE

New on the Farm Journal
This summer, the river became my refuge. Every afternoon I slipped into its cool current with the kids — swimming, reading, floating, letting the sun and water wash the noise away. But seasons always turn, and as fall presses in with gardens, animals, and endless projects, I find myself asking: how do we carry that rhythm of water and rest home with us?

This week I’m sharing a story about pigs, ponds, and the possibility of building a place for sun + water here on the farm. It’s part reflection, part dreaming, and maybe the beginning of something bigger.

👉 Click here to read the full story

Rosemary Garlic Pork Roast with Squash & Onions (click to learn more!)

1. Rosemary Garlic Pork Roast and make a side of Squash & Onions

2. Instant Pot Beef & Black-Eyed Pea Stew

3. Venison Shepherd’s Pie with Rosemary Mash or sweet potatoes

4. Rosemary Sourdough Focaccia
   

📌 Tip: Each photo or section in this email is clickable — open them up to dive deeper into that part of the story. At the end of each section, you’ll find this month’s subscriber-only printables. For September, that means recipe cards and a kombucha guide ready to tuck into your binder.

Here in South Texas, white-winged dove hunting isn’t just a sport—it’s a heritage. Since the early 1930s, these migratory birds have poured through the skies of the Lower Rio Grande Valley in incredible numbers. Historical estimates put the population between 4 to 12 million birds before widespread habitat loss in the 1930s slashed their numbers to around 500,000. And yet, the tradition endured. Dove season still stands strong. You can see thousands streaming across the sky each fall, drawn by fields planted with them in mind.

It’s a tradition rooted not just in harvest, but in stewardship.

My grandfather, Blue Bradford, understood that connection. Each year, he planted sunflowers, dogrum (sorghum), and millet not just for looks or livestock, but for the birds. These plots became annual rest stops for the migrating doves, offering shelter and seed as they made their way south. My father followed in his footsteps, faithfully sowing his fields between April and June to time the ripening with the opening of the September season.

In recent years, my brother has joined the rhythm too. Together they now offer more than just a harvest- they offer an invitation. They open their fields to friends, neighbors, and sportsmen from across the state, welcoming them into this South Texas tradition.

To shoot among golden sunflower rows as the doves pass overhead is to feel something old and sacred. It’s land care. It’s communion with both the earth and the sky. And for many who join us, it becomes a memory that anchors their season year after year. For our family “Birdhunt” its one of our favorite holidays along with Thanksgiving, Christmas and the 4th of July

What’s more, this isn’t just anecdotal. According to Texas Parks & Wildlife, the white-winged dove population has rebounded strongly in recent years, reaching a record 12.8 million birds statewide—up 4% from last year and exceeding long-term averages. As the population increases, so does our collective harvest: nearly 607,000 white-wings were taken in Texas in 1999, and that number has only climbed.

That’s they keep planting. Because it isn’t just about shooting doves. It’s about participating in something that connects generations. It’s about shaping the land for wildlife. And it’s about inviting others to experience a piece of this South Texas life, where fields feed flocks, and flocks feed families.

If you want to join us this season, we’d love to welcome you into the rows. Bring your shotgun, your sunscreen, and your appetite for a real South Texas tradition.

Here’s what we’re sowing now — and a few things we’re holding back on.

In the Garden This Month

I sowed radishes and carrots in soft soil, tucked kale and Swiss chard transplants into rows with a layer of mulch, and started broccoli transplants under the trees in filtered light. A few herb pots — cilantro and dill — now sit by the garden gate, soaking up morning sun.

The work feels like a reset, a turning of the page. September isn’t the end of summer here — it’s the beginning of a whole new growing season for us here in the beautiful RGV.

What We’re Planting This September

Squash:

• SummerSquash

• Zucchini

• Winter Squash

Cucurbits:

• Cucumbers- 45 days till harvest

Root Crops (direct sow):

• Beets — sow now for tender roots by fall.
  Carrots — steady sowings provide staggered harvests.
  Radishes — quick growers, perfect for succession planting.

Leafy Greens:

• Kale & Collards — hearty greens that take off as nights cool.
  Swiss Chard — handles both heat and cool, a reliable choice.
  Mustard Greens & Turnips — quick greens and roots to round out fall meals.
  Spinach — germinates better as temps dip in late September/Oct.

Brassicas (seed or transplants):

• Broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, Chinese cabbage

Legumes:

• Southern Peas (black-eyed, snap peas) — last chance for warm-loving legumes.

• Peas (sweet)

• Edamame ( soybeans)

Lettuce:

• Leaf and head types (cool nights help prevent bolting), if it stays hot we sometimes trick our lettuce to germinate by sticking it into the walk in cooler or keep it in the house until its well started. Spinach.

Herbs:

• Herbs (Cilantro, Dill, Parsley) — prefer shorter days and cooler air.

Alliums:

• Onion sets, leeks ( in trays)

Why now? Our first frost usually doesn’t come until mid-December, which means September sowings get 2–3 months to settle and grow strong before winter.

September Transplants to Start. ( for your trays)

• Lettuce (leaf & head) — sow in trays for staggered harvests.

• Spinach — benefits from a cooler start in trays, then transplant once temps ease.

• Kale & Collards — strong transplant seedlings withstand fall pests better.

• Onion (bulbing types or bunching varieties) — start seeds in flats for January/February transplanting.

🚫 What Not to Plant Right Now

It’s tempting to plant everything once the calendar flips to September — but some things just won’t thrive if you rush them.

• Summer bulbs & tropical annuals (cannas, dahlias, mandevilla, petunias): better in spring.

• Bare-root fruit trees, roses, peonies: need dormancy, plant in winter or spring.

• Broadleaf evergreens (gardenia, hollies, boxwood): vulnerable to winter wind damage if planted now.

• Cold-sensitive shrubs (bougainvillea, crape myrtle, lavender): wait until spring after frost risk passes.

From Garden Rows to Grazing Fields

The garden isn’t the only place where the seasons guide our hands—our pastures and feed plots follow the same rhythm. While the beds fill with beets, carrots, and leafy greens, the fields turn toward clovers, oats, and ryegrass. These aren’t just cover crops; they’re the living pantry for goats, pigs, cattle, and chickens.

Just like we plan meals from the kitchen garden, we also plan the “menu” for our animals. Each seed sown means healthier livestock, better milk and meat, and less reliance on outside feed. It’s a circle: the soil feeds the plants, the plants feed the animals, and the animals—through their milk, meat, or manure—feed us back.

September Forage & Feed in the Rio Grande Valley

Right now, the animals are still fat and shiny, grazing the last of the sunflowers. Horses and cattle especially love them, and goats will happily nibble both leaves and stalks. But as the rains slow down, the grasses begin to die back, and even the sunflowers look tired. This is the natural rhythm of late summer in the Rio Grande Valley—what grew lush and wild through the rains gets grazed down quickly when the heat stays high and the moisture fades.

That’s where the fall feed plan comes in. September is the month when we shift from bonus grazing to intentional planting, laying down the forage that will carry us and our herds through the cooler months ahead.

Sowing for Fall

One of the best choices right now is cowpeas. They handle the lingering heat, shrug off drought, and stand up to grazing pressure. Even better, they fix nitrogen in the soil, which sets up the garden or pasture for healthier crops later on.

Other good sowing options in September include:

• Brassicas like collards, turnips, and daikon radish (the radish is especially suited for non-lactating animals).

• Sunn hemp and buckwheat, both fast-growing soil-builders.

• Forage sorghum and sorghum–sudangrass, which thrive in heat and give a heavy yield of bulk feed.

Sorghum for the Herd

Sorghum deserves its own spotlight. It’s a fast-growing forage that shines in September, producing plenty of feed for fattening cattle, supporting milkers, and even supplementing poultry.

But there’s an important caution: once cool nights and frost arrive, sorghum can develop prussic acid, which is dangerous for ruminants like cattle, goats, and sheep. The good news is the risk is temporary and manageable with timing and variety choice.

• Choose Brown Midrib (BMR) sorghum–sudangrass hybrids for better digestibility and palatability.

• Remember: sudangrass varieties carry the lowest prussic acid risk, sorghum–sudangrass hybrids are moderate, and forage sorghums are highest.

We’ll dive deeper into how to manage sorghum safely during cold snaps in October’s newsletter.

Harvest & Feeding

While the new forages are just being sown, the animals are still enjoying the garden extras and what remains of the summer fields:

• Sunflowers (whole plants) are still being grazed down by horses and cattle.

• Okra, squash, and sweet potato vines make excellent add-ons—pigs will root through spent stalks, goats will strip leaves, and poultry will happily peck.

• Sweet potato greens and okra leaves are high-nutrient treats, and tossing a bundle over the fence keeps the herd interested and well-fed.

These garden scraps stretch the feed supply and make the transition between fading summer forage and fall plantings a little easier.

The Takeaway

September is a month of transition. The rains fade, the heat lingers, and the animals graze down what’s left of summer’s bounty. By sowing cowpeas, brassicas, sunn hemp, and sorghum now, you set the stage for strong grazing into fall and winter. Meanwhile, the garden continues to provide—okra, sweet potato vines, and sunflowers keep bellies full while the next round of forage takes root.

This month is all about building a bridge—feeding animals well today while planting the crops that will sustain them tomorrow.

But these days, raw milk stirs up strong feelings. Some folks swear by it. Others are scared of it—and honestly, that fear didn’t come from nowhere.

So let’s slow down and learn the history. Because once you know where the fear came from—what was really …

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1. Rosemary Garlic Pork Roast with Squash & Onions
   A pork loin rubbed with rosemary and garlic, roasted golden with a side of onions and sweet squash. Rustic, rich, and perfect for Sunday or a busy evening.

2. Instant Pot Beef & Black-Eyed Pea Stew

   We keep jars of dried peas in the pantry from Dad’s garden, and September is the perfect time to turn them into stew. With chunks of beef, rosemary, and tomato broth, this stew is cozy without heating up the cottage for hours. The Instant Pot does the work while you tend animals.

3. Venison Shepherd’s Pie with Rosemary Mash
   Deer from last season’s freezer stash finds a home. Ground venison cooked with onions, carrots, and peas, topped with rosemary-scented mashed squash or sweet potatoes. If your short on carrots or peas just add what ya got! Simple comfort food that fills the house with warmth.

4. Rosemary Sourdough Focaccia
   Sometimes the sourdough starter on the counter begs to be used, and I dont want to take the time to keep up with the folds and stretches. So i turn it into olive-oil-rich focaccia, dimpled with rosemary and sea salt. Crisp edges, soft crumb — perfect for tearing with soups or cheese.

   Click these links for the in depth blog posts I use OR download the simpler recipe cards below!

   1. Rosemary Garlic Pork Roast

   2. Instant Pot Beef + Black-Eyed Pea Stew

   3. Venison Shepherd’s Pie

   4. Rosemary Sourdough Focaccia

Edenslilly Recipes September 2025

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Recipes we make using things we grow!

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It’s so easy to let good habits slip when life’s moving fast. The dairy’s in full swing, the kitchen’s always humming, and when Jake gets home, we like to sit on the porch for fifteen quiet minutes—just the two of us, dust still on our boots, kids running wild, something cold in hand.

Lately, that’s looked like Topo Chico and lime, with or without the tequila to make a ranch water. (Let’s be honest… it started as occasional and crept into "every evening." Or two per evening...) It’s refreshing, it’s relaxing—but it’s also adding up.

💸 The Topo bill alone is getting out of hand. And if the kids get their hands on one? Forget it.
🥴 And my knee’s been acting up again. Maybe it’s the tequila. Maybe it’s just me getting older.
🥹 Either way… I knew it was time to pivot.

And then I remembered my old friend: KOMBUCHA.

I used to be so faithful to it. I’d brew by the gallon, flavor it with bits of fruit or leftover jam, and stash it in swing-top bottles like treasure. It felt like magic. Delicious, fizzy, beautiful and full of probiotics? What’s not to love?

Somewhere in the chaos of life, I let it go.

But now—with groceries up, supplements expensive, and our bodies still needing nourishment—I’m bringing it back!

This post is for the mommas still in town.
For the apartment kitchens and the tiny countertops.
For the ones trying to nourish on a budget, and maybe just craving a little moment of delight after a long day.

Because even in a second-floor apartment or a borrowed kitchen—you can make kombucha. You can nourish your gut, and have something pretty and fizzy in your hand that doesn’t come from a store shelf.

So here’s what I’ll do:
This week, I’m getting a batch going again.
And I’ll walk you through the whole process—from SCOBY to second ferment, and all the real-life notes in between.
No fluff, no perfection, just what works.

Let’s get our fizz back.
In our drinks, in our guts, and maybe in our joy too.

Want a starter guide? A printable recipe? A reel on flavoring? I’m happy to share it all. Printables are below.

And bonus? I found out it can even be made a little boozy — in case it isn’t actually the alcohol making my knee hurt... and so Jake can still enjoy a fun drink too. Next month I will write an article on THAT!

Incase saving money is your gig….

Let’s talk numbers for a minute, because it’s not just the gut health that’s winning here. Brewing kombucha at home costs me about $0.50 per 16 oz bottle—and that’s being generous with the fruit and sugar. Compare that to a Topo Chico, which runs $1.75 a bottle, or a ranch water, which (between the tequila, lime, and Topo) ends up around $3.50 per glass.

If I’m drinking one of those every evening (and let’s be honest… sometimes two), that’s about $12.25 a week for Topo—or $24.50 if Jake joins me. And if it’s ranch waters instead? We’re talking $24.50–$49 a week, depending on how many we pour, or if the kids want a Topo too. That adds up fast.

Meanwhile, with kombucha? I can brew a whole gallon for under $3, which gives me about eight 16 oz bottles—plenty for both of us to enjoy all week, with extras for the kids. Every jar I brew feels like I’m buying back health, savings, and a little bit of that daily ritual I love so much… without the sting to the knees or the budget.

So lets get to it!! ( scroll on down for directions below)

OR

Click the DOWNLOAD to get the Kombucha recipe Printable for your binder 8.5x11

NEXT MONTH I will incude an article on making BOOZY boocha. Its delish!

BTOR Kombucha Making Guide

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A Fizzy Refreshing Probiotic

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Homemade Kombucha: First Fermentation Guide

If you’ve ever wondered how to make your own kombucha, you’ll be glad to know it’s really just a process of turning sweet tea into something tangy, fizzy, and full of probiotics. Brewing happens in two parts: the first fermentation (F1)and the second fermentation (F2). Today we’ll cover the first step — making a one-gallon batch and getting it through its first ferment.

🌀 Fermentation in Two Phases

• First Fermentation (F1): Sweet tea ferments for 7–12 days with the help of starter tea and a SCOBY. At this stage, you end up with unflavored kombucha that isn’t yet fizzy.

• Second Fermentation (F2): After F1, you bottle the kombucha with fruit or other flavors. Sealed up for 2–4 days, it builds carbonation.

This guide will walk you through F1 only so you can brew a solid base to later flavor and bottle.

🌿 Ingredients for 1 Gallon

• 4 cups filtered water (to boil) + ~8 cups cool/cold water ( OR boil all of it and let cool if your using a tap water source)

• 2–3 tbsp loose-leaf black tea (I like English Breakfast)

• ¾ cup cane sugar (organic preferred)

• 1 SCOBY (Symbiotic Culture of Bacteria and Yeast)

• 2 cups starter tea (unflavored kombucha from a previous batch)

⚠️ Tip: If you don’t have 2 cups of starter tea, either cut the recipe in half or top it up with raw, unflavored store-bought kombucha. Never use vinegar as a substitute.

Materials You’ll Need

• French press or pot + strainer (to steep tea)

• 1-gallon glass jar

• Food thermometer ( eyeball it like I do!)

• Cotton cloth cover (coffee filter, clean shirt, or bandana)

• Rubber band

👩‍🍳 Step-by-Step: First Fermentation

1. Brew a strong tea concentrate.
Bring 4 cups of filtered water to a boil. Turn off the heat and steep your tea leaves for 15 minutes. I stir the loose tea right into the hot water. (Tea balls don’t give the leaves enough room to bloom, so use a strainer or French press.)

2. Add sugar.
Stir in ¾ cup cane sugar until fully dissolved. Stick to cane sugar—honey, brown sugar, or substitutes won’t give the SCOBY the food it needs. Raw cane sugar or white cane sugar are what you need. I buy mine in bulk from Azure.

3. Transfer to your jar.
After steeping, strain out the leaves and pour the sweet tea into a 1-gallon glass jar.

4. Cool it down.
Add ~8 cups cool water to the jar. You want the liquid between 70–90°F before adding your SCOBY. Too hot = you’ll kill it; too cold = it might go dormant and invite mold. (in the summer my house is 80-85b so I am golden!)

5. Add SCOBY + starter tea.
Slip in your SCOBY and pour in 2 cups starter tea.

6. Cover and secure.
Top the jar with a cotton cloth and a rubber band. This allows airflow but keeps out dust and fruit flies. Or an airlock lid if your fancy.

7. Set aside to ferment.
Leave the jar at room temp (70–85°F) in a shady, well-ventilated spot for about 7–10 days. Don’t peek or shake it—let the SCOBY do its work.

8. Taste test.
Start sipping a spoonful at day 5. If it’s too sweet, let it keep going. I stick a sanitize glass straw in the side cover the top with my finger and pull up a nice taste. Most people like it between 7–9 days, when the sugars have mellowed and the tang has developed.

✨ Brewing kombucha is part science, part art. Once you’ve got the hang of F1, you’ll learn your own sweet spot for flavor. My batches usually land around 8 days before I’m ready to move them into bottles. BUT a once a week schedule works best for me so many times I go ahead and bottle at 7.

What’s Next?

Once your kombucha tastes right, you’re ready for F2: bottling it up with fruit, herbs, or juice for a couple of days to build fizz. That’s when it turns from a tart tea into a bubbly, flavored treat.

Homemade Kombucha: Second Fermentation Guide

Once you’ve made it through the first stage of kombucha brewing (F1), you’ve got a jar of tart, unflavored kombucha tea. The magic happens in second fermentation (F2) — when you bottle that base with fruit, herbs, or spices to create flavor and carbonation.

🌀 Fermentation in Two Phases (Quick Review)

• First Fermentation (F1): Sweet tea transforms into tangy kombucha with the help of a SCOBY and starter tea. This takes 7–12 days and leaves you with unflavored, mostly flat kombucha.

• Second Fermentation (F2): You add flavorings and seal the kombucha in bottles for 2–4 days at room temperature. This traps natural carbonation, making it bubbly.

🌿 Ingredients & Flavor Ideas

• 1 gallon brewed kombucha (from F1)

• Fruit (fresh or frozen) — berries, citrus slices, peaches, mango, pineapple

• Fruit juice — pomegranate, apple, grape

• Herbs & spices — ginger, mint, lavender, cinnamon, basil

✨ Use about 1–2 tbsp of fruit or 1–2 oz juice per 16 oz bottle. Too much sugar = overly explosive fizz.

🛠 Materials You’ll Need

• Flip-top glass bottles (16 oz is perfect)

• Funnel

• Fine mesh strainer (if using pulpy fruit)

• Labels (so you remember which flavor is which!) OR I use a chalk marker or a wax pencil from my dairy box.

👩‍🍳 Step-by-Step: Second Fermentation

1. Prep your bottles.
Clean, dry flip-top bottles work best since they can handle pressure. A funnel makes filling less messy.

2. Add flavorings.
Drop fruit, juice, herbs, or spices directly into the bottom of each bottle.

3. Pour in kombucha.
Use a funnel to fill bottles with kombucha, leaving about 1–2 inches of headspace at the top.

4. Seal tightly.
Flip-top bottles trap the natural gases created as the yeast munches on the sugars in your fruit/juice.

5. Ferment at room temp.
Let the bottles sit for 2–4 days in a shady spot (70–80°F). The longer they sit, the fizzier they’ll get.

6. Burp bottles daily.
Carefully open the top just enough to release pressure — especially important in warm weather or with high-sugar fruits. (Nobody wants a kombucha explosion!) Sometimes I burp 2x per day to keep an eye on it.

7. Taste test.
After 2–3 days, chill one bottle and give it a try. If it’s fizzy and flavorful enough, refrigerate the rest to slow fermentation.

💡 Flavor Combos to Try

• Strawberry + Basil

• Fig

• Peach + Vanilla

• Blueberry + Lavender

• Pineapple + Mint

• Apple + Cinnamon

🧊 Storing Your Finished Kombucha

• Always refrigerate after F2 to stop over-carbonation.

• Homemade kombucha keeps for 1–2 months in the fridge (if it lasts that long!). I do like to burp once a week to check pressure and make sure its not over carbonating.

✨ F2 is where your creativity shines. Every batch can be different depending on the fruit and herbs you use. Once you’ve nailed your favorite flavor combos, you’ll never look at store-bought kombucha the same way again.

August on a subtropical farm is a strange kind of beautiful. The heat lingers long past sundown, the air hums with cicadas, and everything feels a little worn around the edges—plants, animals, people too. It's the season where we slow down not because we want to, but because the land insists we do. I have long said our summer is the rest of the worlds winter. Our heat forces a rest like the snow forces a break in the norther parts of the USA.

We’ve spent the last three months bouncing between the barn, the Hill Country, and stacks of books as we caught up on homeschool. But now we’re finding our rhythm between feed buckets, citrus trees heavy with green fruit, and hopeful scribbles in the garden notebook—plotting what might actually grow once the heat breaks. The trees are more laden than we expected, thanks to a few well-timed rains that feel like pure grace after two years of drought and no water allotment.

Over the summer, we harvested our first really big crop of blackberries. We’re keeping an eye on the pomegranates, still trying to figure out their groove. And our fig tree—Figgy—and her daughter have absolutely outdone themselves. We’ve eaten our fill of sweet, sticky fruit, tucked jars of fig jam into the pantry, and still can’t believe how much bounty those two trees gave us.

We welcomed another litter of piglets this month— (you will meet them below) but these weren’t the squealing surprises of our early pig days. These were pasture-born, hay-tucked, mama-handled babies. Our sows knew just what to do—no fuss, no fanfare. Just healthy, chubby piglets growing under the steady care of a good mama. And let me tell you, it feels good to be at this stage.

We’ve dried off most of the goats, keeping only one of my favorite Mini Nubians and Emma’s two LaManchas in milk. An hour of summer milking—and running the machines—just felt like too much. So we left their kids on them, giving ourselves some breathing room—and in return, the kids took over the milking chores. It’s one of my favorite seasonal rhythms: share the milk, skip a few milkings, and have the ability to slip away for a couple days of rest or a Hill Country adventure.

The cows are on an unplanned sabbatical—turns out this round of breeding didn’t take. So they’re enjoying the slower days of summer while we make arrangements for a new bull... which really means Jake will be hauling a trailer soon.

I enjoyed the canned goodness I’d stored up through the growing season—tomato soup, canned venison, chicken pot pie base, broth, collards, and salsas. What a gift it was to open a jar and serve something beautiful in minutes, instead of cooking for two hours every evening. It felt like past-me had lovingly packed away grace for future-me to enjoy.

CLICK ON THE PHOTOS BELOW TO GO TO THE ARTICLES LINKED WITH EACH ONE

Dowloadable Printable At the End of this article. Breeding charts with dates to breed, preg check, and disbud, deworm, ect. ALL you need to do already calculated for you. + a timetable of when to do what in prep for breeding season to settle everyone the first time with a good litter size.

So that’s a little snapshot of our summer—sticky figs, barefoot kids, a few wild piglets, and a whole lot of learning to slow down.It wasn’t flashy, but it was full. And honestly? I needed it.I feel like I’m coming into August with clearer eyes, a full pantry, and a heart that’s ready for something new. Not bigger. Not busier. Just… more rooted.Below, I’ll introduce you to the newest chaos crew in the barn (the piglets, of course), and share a little more about the shift I’m making this fall. It’s one that’s been a long time coming.

Teach a Woman to Fish: Why I’m Shifting from Selling to Showing
I’m trading in transactions for transformation—because feeding you is good, but teaching you to feed yourself is better. Here's why I'm focusing on skills, not just products, and what that means for our farm, our community, and your kitchen. CLICK HERE TO READ!

6 Summer Recipes from Our Farm Kitchen

Because the figs were heavy on the branches in July , the cherry tomatos are always prolific and begin splitting if we don’t eat them fast enough, sweet potato vines thrive in the heat and it’s just too hot to turn on the oven unless it’s really worth it.

1. Sweet Potato Greens in Maple Butter
   The pigs wiped out the front garden patch... but the slips I tucked into tubs along the fence line? Thriving. These tender greens cook down like spinach with a heartier bite, and they shine when sautéed with butter and just a kiss of maple syrup.

2. Yogurt + Honey Fig Parfaits
   Our fig trees were loaded in June, and these parfaits are my favorite way to use them up. Creamy yogurt, ripe figs, a drizzle of honey… and a handful of homemade granola if you’ve got it. (Link to my go-to granola recipe coming next month!)

3. Purple Hull Pea and Okra Skillet
   We harvested peas in June and July from Dad’s garden, shelled and dried, and now they’re waiting in the fridge for skillet magic. While as you know okra just keeps cranking out in the summer heat until we realy run out of ideas for it!

4. Hill Country Peach Cobbler or Grilled Peaches (Bonus)
   I brought home a box of peaches from Fredericksburg, and we’re giving them two endings: grilled with cinnamon and butter for a smoky-sweet treat… or folded into a sourdough cobbler that makes your whole house smell like August should. (Yes, the recipe is coming!)

SCROLL BELOW to CLICK ON EACH RECIPE below FOR A BLOG LINK

OR
scroll farther down to the printables section (for my paid newsletter subscribers) for the printable recipe cards (for your recipe binder) or download to your phone! (also printable goat breeding timeline charts & breeding prep checklist printables)

1. Sweet Potato Greens in Maple Butter

2. Yogurt + Honey Fig Parfaits

3. Purple Hull Pea and okra Skillet

4. Hill Country Peach Cobbler or Grilled Peaches (Bonus)

BTOR-Goat School- Breeding Charts & CIDR Dates For Sep:oct 2025 A6

742KB ∙ PDF file

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Breed dates in September when to expect kids, when our good to blood test for pregnancy, and when to expect the next heat if they didnt take! As well as a kidding list of dates to be ready to disbud, deworm, wean ect.

Download

BTOR- Goat School -Breeding Prep

438KB ∙ PDF file

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A list of what to do to get your goats ready for breeding season!

Download

Edenslilly Recipes August 2025 Printable A6

400KB ∙ PDF file

Download

Download

I didn’t grow up with pigs. My roots are in crops and goats—onions in the field, milk in the pail, and chickens scratching through the garden. When Jake and I got married, we filled every spare inch of our life with gardens, fowl, and dairy goats. But at some point, as our homestead stretched and deepened, pigs just felt like the next right thing.

I researched like a woman possessed. Heritage breeds were a must (of course). I wanted flavor, sustainability, and hardiness.I researched like a woman possessed. Heritage breeds were a must (of course). I wanted flavor, sustainability, and hardiness. There where a few heritage breeds that seemed to work well.

Being at the end of the world isn’t exactly helpful when you’re trying to import quality livestock, but eventually I found an ad for Berkshire pigs. Perfect! I’d read rave reviews about the rich, succulent pork. I contacted the seller and arranged to pick up one or two bred sows.

Jake borrowed my dad’s trailer and headed out to make the hour-long drive. I waited in excitement for their arrival.

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I’ve spent more than the past decade doing what many folks only dream about—feeding my family from our land, raising animals, growing produce, and running a curbside grocery service that brought real, nourishing food to dozens of local families.

It didn’t start with a big plan or perfect timing. It started with a two-week-old baby strapped to my chest, a two-year-old holding my hand, and me in the barn—milking goats and launching a certified dairy. I had a vision to offer something that mattered. I was determined. And from that moment on, I would spend most of the next twelve years milking and feeding people.

For a long time, I believed the best way to serve my community was by feeding them directly. And for that season, it was beautiful. But it wasn’t easy.

I breastfed babies and tucked them into bed, then went out to milk goats by headlamp in the dark. I woke before the sun to milk again, then packed cheese in the creamery late into the night for weekend markets. I spent nap times pouring soap into molds and printing labels, always racing the clock. I trudged through mud on cold mornings and braved the heavy heat and drenching sweat in the thick of summer.

It was hard work—quiet, behind-the-scenes work. But it was worth it.

But lately, something in me has shifted.
I’m tired.

Not the kind of tired that goes away with a nap, but the kind that whispers, you have to choose—what matters most? My children are getting older. They’re not little anymore, and they need more of me (if you would have told me that when I had toddlers I would have politely laughed)—more time, more conversation, more presence—as they stretch toward adulthood. And I don’t want to miss that.

Maybe it’s the season I’m in. Maybe it’s the rising cost of everything. Maybe it’s watching young moms in tiny kitchens trying to stretch a grocery budget that just won’t bend far enough with no skills to know how to make it work. I see them. I remember being them. And I still believe growing food matters deeply.

But I’ve also learned—and am still learning—that when I’m worn out and spread thin, I can’t feed anyone well. Not my customers. Not even my own family. And if I don’t protect the margins, if I don’t slow down and honor this season of motherhood, I’ll burn out doing the very thing I was once called to.

Unless I had an army of help (which I don’t!), I simply can’t keep up that pace. I’m not called to race the clock anymore. I’m called to teach what I’ve learned… and to live it more fully.

So I’m shifting.
Not away from food, but toward a slower, wiser way of sharing it.
A way that feeds others through my words and experience, not just my hands.

Because here’s what I know now:
I’m not just called to grow food anymore.
I’m called to teach you how to grow it, too.

Why I’m Shifting Gears

This isn’t me stepping away from the work—it’s me stepping into it more intentionally.

I still love the soil, the animals, the messy, beautiful rhythm of homegrown life. I still believe in the power of nourishing meals and scratch-made food. But I’ve come to understand that my greatest impact in this season isn’t in packing another cheese box or racing to fill another market order. It’s in helping you do it for yourself.

Because the truth is, the world needs more women who know how to grow tomatoes, stretch a chicken and feed a family on purpose. The world needs more mothers who can preserve peaches, bake a loaf of sourdough, and raise chickens in the backyard or basil in a pot by the window. And if I can help make that less overwhelming—if I can show you that it’s possible even when life is loud and little ones are underfoot—then that’s the work worth doing.

So I’m not quitting. I’m refocusing.
Less about doing the work for others, and more about equipping others to do the work for themselves

.

What You’ll See From Me in This Season

This new season looks a little different. It’s less about me being your farmer—and more about being your guide. Less about putting food into your hands—and more about putting tools there instead.

Because if I’ve learned anything, it’s that when women are given skills, they rise. They build homes that nourish. They steward land with purpose. They pass on legacies.

So here’s what you can expect from me moving forward:

• 🥖 Hands-on classes – from gardening and sourdough to canning, home dairy, and cheese making

• 📥 Downloadable guides + simple resources – to help you start where you are, even if that’s a windowsill garden or a borrowed crock

• 📬 Monthly

  Substack posts – filled with practical help, honest stories, and the kind of encouragement that sticks

• 👩‍🌾 Behind-the-scenes glimpses – what’s working (and what’s not) in our own messy rhythm of homeschooling, homesteading, and feeding a family in real life

I’m still knee-deep in the mud and the milk, still figuring things out while I help kids with math and forget dinner on the stove. But now, I’m turning around and offering you a hand. Because if I can do this—with mismatched boots, a tiny kitchen, and zero spare time—you can too.

I don’t have all the answers. But I have the experience. I have the failures. I have the quiet wins. And I believe that when God gives us gifts, we’re meant to multiply them—not hoard them. I want to share what He’s taught me, so you can carry it into your own kitchen, backyard, or apartment balcony.

Ready to Begin? Let’s Do It Together.

You don’t have to figure this out on your own.
Check out my current list of classes and free resources right here:
👉 coming soon to my website!👈

Whether you’re here to revive a sourdough starter, start a first garden, or simply answer that little tug on your heart that says “There’s a better way to feed my family”—you are welcome here.

We’ll grow side by side.

Still, I hold onto the rhythm. The ritual of simmering bones and saving scraps. The feel of a broth pot gently steaming up the windows while supper’s dishes are still stacked. It might not feed us for days the way it once did—but it still matters. It still saves. It still nourishes.

And if I’m honest, the part I love most these days? It’s not the soup or stew. It’s that last step—taking the mushy leftovers and blending them into hearty, homemade dog food. Nothing wasted. Everyone fed.

Growing up, all those bones and bits were thrown away. We didn’t know what we were missing. But now I see just how much gets left on the table when we toss the scraps. Broth, stock, and dog food from a single chicken can stretch your dollar more than you'd think—easily saving $10–$20 every time. Multiply that over a month, and it’s like getting an extra grocery trip for free.

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As summer begins to wind down, many homesteaders start thinking about fall breeding season. But just because a doe can be bred doesn’t always mean she should be bred. This post will help you confidently assess your goats and decide who’s ready—and who needs more time.

✅ Signs a Doe Is Ready to Breed

These indicators mean your doe is likely physically and emotionally ready:

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