Animals, Electric Fences, and Maple Syrup

Week one at Taft Hill Farm

Greetings from Vermont!

It’s gonna be a long one, so grab a snack and your beverage(s) of choice and let’s dive on in.

How did this all come to be?

When I started freelancing last year, I knew I wanted to find a way to carve out space for periods of personal enrichment. Mini sabbaticals if you will. I figured there were bound to be stretches of time where work wasn’t coming in and rather than spend that time lying around anxious about not working (something I’ve also spent plenty of time doing), I wanted to invest that energy back into myself and my passions.

Enter WWOOF: Worldwide Opportunities on Organic Farms. The organization links visitors with organic farmers, promotes an educational and cultural exchange and builds a global community conscious of ecological farming practices. Visitors receive education, accommodations, and meals as they live and help on the farm.

I had first heard of WWOOF when I was in college and was reminded of it when a friend and former coworker WWOOFed on a farm a couple years ago while taking her own sabbatical from working. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.

After an evening of searching on the website for farms in the Northeast, I happened upon a farm where the owner was also a glassblowing artist and their page said there was also an opportunity to assist in the glass studio. No. F**king. Way. I’m sold.

After a handful of messages exchanged through the site, a questionnaire filled out, and an hour long zoom call, it was official. I was coming to Taft Hill Farm on April 1st. No April Fools here.

Tuesday, April 1st

I arrive at the farm somewhat delirious after my 5 hour, traffic filled drive from New York and am greeted by the owners, Robert and Kathy Dugrenier as well as their farm manager, Robert Jr. (not Robert’s son, just a funny coincidence), who will be my point person for farm work. We make introductions and start getting to know each other over a dinner of make-your-own tacos and wine poured in hand blown glasses that Robert made. Beneath my tired facade is the giddiness of a kid arriving at summer camp. After dinner, I’m escorted to the tiny home, my personal residence for the month. Robert informs me that his son built it as a music studio when he was 16. I’m impressed by the former teen’s craftsmanship and cross my fingers that it proves to be sturdy.

Here are some photos of the tiny house, or as I like to call it, MTV Cribs: Farm Life.

Wednesday, April 2nd

Wake up at 7am, morning chores start at 8:15. Robert Jr. introduces me to all the animals as we go. There’s the llama named Benjamin and his alpaca buddy, Levi-Elliot. They get some grain feed and a few flakes of hay. Next up are the 25 chickens, a variety of breeds in an array of colors. We release them from the coop, refill their water, feed them a seed mixture, and go into the coop to collect eggs that have been laid. Right next door to the chickens are 12 shetland sheep who get a refresh on their water as well as a full bale of hay that we divide up and distribute around their space. Finally, we make our way over to the cows with three and a half bales of hay in tow. The 7 cows are Randall Lineback cattle, a critically rare Vermont heritage breed. Their enclosure has an electric fence line surrounding it, something I’m confident won’t be a problem for me at any point in time.

And that’s morning chores. These happen every day, so I won’t mention them for future days, unless something of note happens.

With morning chores finished, I head over to Robert’s studio where him and his assistant are making large seashells, which you can get a closer look at here. After watching a couple shells be made and getting an idea of the process, I jump in and begin making punties, helping apply color, torching areas of the glass that need to stay hot, applying pressurized air to areas of the glass that need to be cooler. All 3 of us are working in tandem and pumping out these shells.

Glassblowing is truly a team sport. It’s mesmerizing getting to watch the process up close. And extremely satisfying when I hear Robert say the words “good heat” when I bring over a punty that I heated in the furnace for just the right amount of time.

Thursday, April 3rd

A cold, mucky, rainy morning on the farm. I feel like my boots are going to get sucked off my feet by the mud below. Luckily I got the knee high muck boots and they’re stronger than the wet earth.

Robert Jr. gives me a tour of the greenhouse and all of the vegetable seeds that have been/will be planted. It’s the very beginning of the season, so the seeds are germinating, beginning to get their first leaves (cotyledons), and are incredibly delicate. He checks the current temperature and humidity in the greenhouse and looks to see where the temperature will be later in the day. The plants are babies and they need to be babied to ensure their survival.

We continue the tour of the farm. Entering the garage, there’s a brooder where chicks will be raised. In another room is an incubator with eggs. He holds one of the eggs up to his phone flashlight, a process called candling, and I can see veins growing inside. There are freezers full of extra vegetables from last season, wool that has been turned into dryer balls, jars of relish made from produce grown on the farm. I’m like a sponge absorbing all the information, trying to make sure I can hold it all.

In the evening, I close the chicken coop, counting 25 chickens before I close the doors for the night. Then I head back to the tiny house and watch Princess Mononoke.

Friday, April 4th

It’s a maple sap collection day. Most of the property’s 300+ maple trees are tied into the main line that runs directly to the holding tank at the sugar shack. The rest of the trees have taps that feed into a bucket under each tree. We drive Robert Jr.’s truck around the property to collect sap from the buckets and bring them down to the sugar shack. It’s the end of sugaring season, so the trees aren’t producing as much sap, but collectively we gather about 15 gallons. Down at the sugar shack, we label bottles and get organized for a class happening the following morning.

Afterwards, we make our way to the greenhouse, where the inside temperature is 88 degrees. Hello, summer! I get an intro to watering the plants and then peek outside where I see all the cows laying together in a sunny spot in the field. Cute <3.

Friday nights are pizza night at the West Townshend Country Store, a nonprofit community center started by Robert 15 years ago. The community comes together to enjoy wood-fired pizzas prepared and cooked by volunteers. I’m in the kitchen on sauce duty, which I could do all day long. At the end of the night, all us volunteers get to put in our own pizza orders once we’ve nailed our saucing and topping techniques.

Saturday, April 5th

Today is the day. Electric fence: 1. Me: 0.

In an attempt to brush hay off the fence, my gloved hand grazes the electric wire, sending a shock through my whole body. Who needs coffee when you have electricity, am I right?

Yes, I’m ok, mom!

After morning chores, Robert Jr. and I head to the sugar shack where he teaches a sugaring class for a group of 8 people, including me and an Airbnb experiences photographer. Over the course of a couple hours, the maple sap boils from an initial 3% sugar concentration to a final 67%, making its way through multiple tanks as it concentrates further. We taste test four different grades of maple syrup: golden (delicate), amber (rich), dark (robust), and very dark (strong). A small pot of the final syrup is boiled and poured on top of snow to create maple candies turning all of us grown adults into delighted children. The final syrup is bottled in hand blown glass bottles made by Robert.

Sunday, April 6th

Morning mantra: I will not get shocked by the electric fence. And thankfully, I don’t.

Robert Jr. and I head to Robert’s glass studio to remove taps from the maple trees, rinse out sap buckets, and collect more hay to bring to the farm. Robert Jr. tosses bales of hay from a storage container into the bed of the pickup truck while I stack and climb on the bales to fit in as many as I can. Scaling the bales of hay, I feel like a kid again.

As we drive the hay back to the farm, three bales fly off the truck, bouncing on the road as we soar onward. “Someone’s getting some free hay today,” says Robert Jr.

Monday, April 7th

It’s my first day off. I stop for a bagel sandwich in the morning at The Vermont Country Deli, spend the day driving around Brattleboro exploring shops in town, and then make my way to nearby trails for a dose of nature. On one of the trails I find crystals and shed a few tears. On rainy days when the sky is crying, I like to cry too. You know, in solidarity. I get dinner at High Thai and lose my mind over the fried spinach rangoons.

It’s been a beautiful first week here.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. It means the world to me.

I’ll be back next week with the latest from the farm.

Stay fresh.