Welcome to the Farm, Molly and Marigold!

Sunday was one of those long, memorable farm days that lingers with me long after the dust settles.

We brought home a new cow and heifer — Molly and Marigold.

Molly is a 7–8 year old Jersey cow, gentle and friendly. She came from a family, where she’d been part of a homestead. Life is shifting for them now, and they needed to move into town, so Molly and her year-old heifer came to us.

Molly is due to have her next calf in February, which means she’s currently dry (not being milked). She’ll have time to settle in, rest, and get her bearings before that next chapter begins.

Marigold is her heifer — just a year old — and a Jersey/Dexter cross. Dexters are a smaller breed, so Marigold will never be very big. She’s still growing, still watching, still learning what it means to be part of a herd.

Getting them here was no small thing.

It was a 3½ hour drive one way, and closer to 5 hours coming home, with a stop for food and slower travel once the ladies were on the trailer. Matt drove the whole way — including straight through busy metro traffic — something I know I could never have done. On the way back, the cows were a little jumpy, which can cause the trailer to sway and even drift slightly out of the lane. It’s nerve-wracking, even when you know it’s normal with livestock.

I was, admittedly, a terrible backseat driver.

Matt handled it quietly, with patience and grace, never snapping, never rising to my anxious commentary. I thanked him later for putting up with my backseat driving — all so I could have more cows. He just smiled and kissed me.

Praise the Lord, the trailer never swerved when another vehicle was right beside us. We got home safely, and I don’t take that lightly.

Watching Molly step off the trailer and meet the herd stirred an old memory for me — the day we brought home our first cow, Bessie, twelve years ago.

Back then, I had been quietly tucking money away, little by little, for a cow. Matt didn’t know. I found Bessie on Craigslist and asked if we could get her. He said yes — if we had the money. He truly didn’t think we did, and to be honest, he didn’t really want a cow at the time. He was pretty surprised when I told him I already had it saved.

So here we are, all these years later. Still adding cows. Still trusting the slow work of stewardship. Still walking this life together.

As Molly joined the herd, you may notice Milka, our black cow, testing her a bit — a head bump here, a push there. This is not meanness or cruelty. It’s simply how cows establish herd hierarchy. It looks dramatic to us, but it’s not painful or harmful. It’s communication, boundaries, and sorting — and it settles with time.

Today, Molly and Marigold are resting, watching, learning the rhythms of a new place. The herd is adjusting. The farm feels fuller.

We’re grateful to welcome them — and grateful you’re here to share in it with us.

The moment they stepped off the trailer felt worth sharing: