We spent years in tech — good years, mostly — but the alarms, the commutes, and the always-on “new normal” added up. This farm is what we’re building instead: one family, a quarter acre, and a written plan.
For years our days ran on alarms, commutes, and screens — the hustle and bustle that has quietly become the new normal. Somewhere in there we realized the moments we actually remembered were small: a good tomato, a slow Saturday morning, dirt under fingernails.
So we’re building a farm around that idea. A quarter acre of beds, worked by hand, before dawn and after dinner. A small stand at a Saturday market. Small batches of honey. Nothing rushed, nothing grown at a scale where we’d stop noticing it. The farm is veteran-owned and family-run — built from a written plan, step by step, no shortcuts.
Why “small things”“Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin.”
— Zechariah 4:10, the verse the farm is named for
Year one is a quarter acre of intensive beds, planted in succession so something good is always coming out of the ground from May to the first frost. Salad greens cut the morning you buy them. Tomatoes picked ripe, not early. Garlic cured the old way. Three hives arrive with the first beds, and honey follows when the bees say so.
We’re not chasing scale. There will be three ways to buy from us, with one Saturday at the heart of it: CSA shares, the farmers market, and a few restaurant accounts. If the farm grows, it will grow slowly — at the pace of one family that wants to keep noticing every plant. That’s the promise behind the name.