Inventory, Kittens, and Garlic Bread: Just Another Day at Trauma Farms

The sun hasn’t even kissed the sky yet, but our day began at 4 a.m.—back to our usual rhythm. It’s dark, quiet, and peaceful, the kind of stillness that holds space for reflection. I threw on some clothes and got right to my first task of the day: my morning tarot draw.

Lately, I’ve been using the Memento Mori oracle deck. There’s something about its energy that grounds me before the chaos begins. Today, I pulled the Scissors card. It resonated immediately—cutting away the old, the clutter, the stagnant. A symbol of fresh beginnings. A quiet affirmation that today marks the start of rebuilding, renewing, and reshaping the energy here at home.

cut, remove, free something. create a shape. new independence. be precise. fresh start.

After my draw, I moved into the next rhythm of the morning: preparing the girls’ schoolwork. I started with Aria’s clipboard, getting everything sorted and tucked neatly away before turning to Sephy’s. It looks like today will be a good blend of hands-on and creative learning.

We’ll be logging the growth of our peach tree — a little ritual we’ve all come to enjoy as we watch it slowly stretch toward the sky. Then it’s on to a “multiplication by 1” game, a shape-matching activity, finishing up our cardinal packet, and making another early reader book. Little bits of magic woven into routine.

folders and clipboards all ready for the day

Next came the sourdough—same comforting routine as always. Feeding the starter has become a grounding part of my mornings, like a quiet conversation with something ancient and alive. But I did notice the discard jar in the fridge is getting a little too full, so I’ll be putting together a list of recipes for Charlie shortly.

Snacks, breads, breakfast bakes—things we can prep now and tuck away for later. It's always satisfying to turn something that might go to waste into nourishment for the days ahead.

As the sun began to rise, it was time to tend to the animals—at least the ones I could manage this morning. One of the roosters was already crowing, calling out to the golden sky like a proper herald of the day. By then, I had also restarted the task of counting inventory, something that’s been dragging along bit by bit this week.

After the turtle had been fed, I turned to the dogs—starting with Harley and working my way through each of them until Alister was taken care of last. I took small breaks here and there, but still managed to get what looked like the full inventory counted. By 7:30 a.m., all the dogs had been walked and I had moved on to prepping bins for the farm stand.

chickens eating their scratch grains

By 8:00, Jezebel had a fresh gallon of milk replacer mixed up and chilling in the fridge, and I offered her her morning bottle. She’s developed a bit of a preference—she likes her milk after it’s had time to sit and cool, so I wasn’t surprised when she turned down this morning’s fresh mix. She’ll come back to it later, I’m sure.

Next up were the chickens, happily pecking away as I gave them their morning scratch grains. I left the water for Dameion to handle once he was up—he always comes through to refresh all the outdoor waters. After that, I took a special trip to deliver breakfast to Bushka. The rest of the colony cats are fed a bit further down the property, but not her—Bushka doesn’t like to share, and she’s made that clear.

By 8:30, the goats had been moved out to graze in the playground area, which meant only a few tasks were left for Dameion: water, hay, and taking care of little Harley.

goats grazing in the playground

Next came time to make breakfast and prep cups for the girls. Cereal felt like the right call today—they’d all been up past 1 a.m., and I could already tell we were in for a slower, crankier start. By 8:40, breakfast was served and they were eating, though not exactly cheerfully. Poor Lily looked absolutely wiped, her sleepy eyes barely staying open between bites.

Still, we kept moving forward. By 9:10, all three girls were fed, dressed, hair brushed, teeth cleaned, morning gummies handed out, and sent off to tidy their room. A little grumbling, sure—but progress nonetheless.

By 9:20, Charlie was up and the bed was made—life slowly returning to the house for the day. By 10:00, Dameion had woken up and was given his usual round of morning tasks: hay, water, feeding the colony cats, giving Trapper his breakfast, walking little Harley, and handling the afternoon dog walk later on.

By the time nap rolled around, the girls had already drawn their peach trees, finished their multiplication game, worked through shape flashcards, and played a quick round of memory. Jezebel had taken her second bottle, and the dogs had started their afternoon walk. I even managed to send two totes up to the stand so we could get it partially open for the day.

Stand

By the time nap was over, the stand had been fully stocked and the remaining inventory was packed up and ready to head back into storage. Charlie had finished making dinner and was already elbow-deep in his baking for the day, filling the house with the warm, familiar smells we all love. The dogs had been taken out for their second walk, and Jezebel had happily taken another bottle—much more content now that it had been properly chilled.

By the end of the day, everything had been inventoried and tucked back into its place. The stand was closed, and the last of the evening chores were coming to a close. Dameion had spotted the kittens again—Athena had moved them after he got too close to their original nest, but thankfully he was able to track them down safely. He also gathered up the four 5-gallon buckets we’ll need to start the alcohol for the next round of tinctures.

All the dogs had been out, Jezebel hadn’t missed a single bottle, and the house was filled with the sweet, cozy smell of fresh graham crackers cooling on the counter.

After the girls were down for the night, we took a moment to head down to Mom and Dad’s to check in and drop off the inventoried stock into storage. But before we even made it to the Jeep, we ran into our neighbor walking alongside a younger gentleman, who we later found out was one of the Burrel boys. To our surprise, he asked if we’d consider selling Adonis. We didn’t even let him get to the offer—our answer was a firm and immediate no. That boy is family.

We chatted for a few minutes and agreed to set up a time for Adonis to be castrated—another $150 we’ll need to factor into the books. There was some light talk of future training, but that’ll have to wait until the surgery is behind us.

After they left, we finally made it down to Mom and Dad’s and checked in with them while Dameion took the stock down into storage. Once everything was settled, we took a short ride down the back road to unwind—and that’s when we spotted the tiniest kitten on the side of the road. We tried to catch it before it darted into the woods, but it was too quick. When we looped back, it had reappeared, but once again, it slipped away before we could get close. We’re planning to head back tomorrow with an extra pair of hands and a little more patience, hoping we can bring the little thing to safety.

Back home, we flipped on the TV and finally started winding down, letting the day settle behind us—full of the unexpected, but held together with the same steady rhythm of care and purpose that guides us each day.