The Making of The Fox & Crow Farm: A Life Built by Hand

I wonder if people see the finished photos around our farm and they think it must have always looked this way. But what they don’t see are the years of collecting, building, tearing down, rebuilding, learning, failing, and trying again. They don’t see the long days that start before sunrise and end with dirt under our nails, or the quiet moments where you stand in the middle of a hundred acres and wonder if you’re crazy for believing you can build something that matters.

We started this farm with little more than a few old tools, a knack for salvaging things most people would throw away, and a belief that everything — from land to furniture to people — deserves a second chance. Over the years, we’ve become collectors not just of antiques, but of stories. We’ve learned that restoration isn’t just about wood and nails. It’s about preserving a way of life.

We’ve raised livestock, butchered humanely, salted hides to save them, and turned what others might call chores into rituals of gratitude. We built a farm store from scratch, designed a website, and somehow gathered a following of people who care about the same things we do — good work, honest hands, and the beauty of things made slow.

We joined the planning board to fight for the kind of rural life that too often gets pushed aside for convenience. We helped revive Barnstead’s Old Home Day because heritage only survives if someone’s willing to keep showing up for it. We started Boot Blankets and turned sewing into a small business. We made breads, rubs, brines, and salts that connect us to local farms and kitchens across the country. We built friendships and networks that stretch far beyond our fence line — a family of neighbors, customers, and fellow dreamers.

And then there are the horses. The wild mustangs who came into our lives and changed everything. Learning to gentle a wild horse teaches you more about yourself than any mirror ever could. They don’t respond to titles, or money, or words — only to truth. Those lessons shaped the way we live here. Honest communication. Trust earned slowly. Freedom honored daily.

We’ve built cabins from timber blown down in our own woods. We bought a family plot of red pine in Strafford and saved those trees from the pulp mill, transforming them into a log cabin that stands as a testament to what can happen when you refuse to let good things go to waste. Every nail, every beam, every tree has a story — just like every person who’s ever walked this land before us.

Along the way, I wrote a novel, published a devotional book, and am still chipping away at a children’s series and a cookbook — because words, like wood, can build something lasting too. Each project is another piece of the same puzzle: a life built from curiosity, courage, and an endless drive to preserve what’s real.

People sometimes ask how we do it all — the animals, the farm, the writing, the business, the community work. The truth is, we don’t always know. We just keep going. We follow the spark that says, try it anyway. We’ve learned that fulfillment doesn’t come from ease — it comes from effort. From building something with your own hands and being able to stand back at the end of the day and say, “I did that.”

The Fox & Crow Farm is more than a place. It’s a way of living. It’s a constant reminder that the most meaningful things in life take time, patience, and heart. Every project, every horse, every old piece of furniture, every seed planted — it all comes back to the same mission: to do good, learn deeply, share freely, and preserve what’s worth keeping.

We started this journey more than a decade ago, and somehow, it still feels like we’re just getting started.

🪶 The Fox & Crow Farm — Built by hand, guided by heart, and grounded in purpose.