Our second season on the farm unfolded very differently to the first.
Where the early months were defined by repair and preparation, this season brought movement, life, and the first real signs of what this place could become. Things were beginning to grow.
Welcoming Nicholas
We welcomed our second son, Nicholas, in October.

Life slowed and expanded all at once. Days were shaped around feeds, sleep, and quiet hours, while the farm continued its steady demands in the background. We watched countless sunrises with a newborn wrapped close, and just as many sunsets as the day softened into evening.
Those early weeks felt suspended in time while we adjusted to life as a family of four.
Building Momentum
Much of the season was spent building, literally.
We continued fencing, learning quickly that no matter how thorough you think you’ve been, livestock will always find the weakest point. Not long after introducing sheep, they discovered a hole we’d missed and disappeared down the road. It was a lesson learned early: fences matter, and animals will always test your systems.
In March, we had a huge bulldozer arrive to reshape the landscaping around the house and prepare for what would become our house paddock. Seeing the land transformed in a matter of days was equal parts thrilling and intimidating. It was the first time we could clearly imagine how the spaces around us might eventually function.
We also had a dam put in which would be used for the house paddock and for stock, this would be our largest water source on the property.
Shaping the Land
Rock walls went up. Electric fencing went in. We planted driveway trees and countless others across the property — knowing full well that we wouldn’t be the ones to enjoy their shade for many years.
Each change made the farm feel a little more intentional, a little more settled. Slowly, the chaos of raw land began to give way to structure.
Finding Joy in the In-Between
Amid the work, there were moments that reminded us why we chose this life.
Swimming in the creek on warm days. Watching our children explore the land with curiosity and confidence. Standing quietly as the sun rose or set, marking time in a way that felt gentler than before.

We watched the New Year’s fireworks from our own backyard a moment that felt both celebratory and grounding. Not because everything was finished, but because we were exactly where we were meant to be.
Learning What It Means to Farm
This second season taught us the realities of livestock ownership, the responsibility, the unpredictability, and the constant need to stay observant. It also taught us that progress on a farm is rarely linear.
Some days felt productive. Others felt like maintenance or recovery. All of them mattered.
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