What Makes a Place Feel Like Home

We have been blessed with so many wonderful people who have supported us and our farming dreams over the years in Arkansas. Family. Friends. Feed suppliers. Processors. Mechanics. Customers. Years of connections and relationships that have meant everything to us through both the good times and the hard times.

So many good people have helped us pursue our dreams of better food, better animal care, and better stewardship of the land in our care. I have tremendous gratitude and appreciation for every one of them.

And that support continues. The encouragement surrounding our Arkansas farm is as strong as ever. In fact, one could argue we're beginning to give a little of it back by mentoring the next generation of farmers and helping support their dreams. It's a drop in the bucket compared to all we've received, but it feels like a step in the right direction.

And then there's what feels a little like a new beginning.

Cody and I checking on the cows early in the morning here in Montana.

Cody and I have more knowledge, more skills, more connections, and more confidence than when we started years ago. But we're still total newcomers in a very small community of fiercely independent, self-sufficient people in rural Montana.

And guess what? There are some amazing, generous, incredibly kind people here who barely know us and have already stepped up to help.

While Cody settles into a small camper on the ranch, Eliza is staying with a couple who live just six miles down the road. They've given her a safe, stable, and comfortable place to stay, and have already invited us over for dinner twice this week! And not just us, but the folks we're working alongside as well.

The people we're working with have also been incredibly generous with their knowledge and experience. In many ways, it all feels familiar, like the early days of living seasonally in the Airstream when we moved the Arkansas operation back in 2010.

None of this can be done alone. I'm always grateful for the skills and experience others share while working this land.

As I write this, I'm on a plane back to Arkansas. Back to our son, Sam. My parents. Cody's dad. The dogs. The farm crew. The neighbors. The friends. And I feel both glad and sad all at once. But mostly, I feel grateful.

Whether you're the boots on the ground in Arkansas or Montana, part of the processing crew, a delivery driver, a member of the Grass Roots customer support team, part of our production team, a customer, or someone whose support happens behind the scenes, thank you for being part of this community. It's everything.

Your Farmer,
Andrea

P.S. Community has a way of making big steps feel safer and new adventures feel possible. I'd love to hear about the people who've made a difference in your life. Has your community ever rallied around you during a challenging season or a new beginning? Comment and share your story with me.