I grew up on a dairy farm on the lower slopes of the imposing Dartmoor hills. Tucked away in a little hollow, our farm is gorgeous, or I think so anyway. 120 acres of sandy free draining soil, mostly grazing and silage fields, a few acres of maize and stubble turnips grown each year. Patches of woodland and scrub and a river frontage next to the Teign.

A blissful place for a child, oldest of three, to grow up. I was not yet old enough to understand all the other difficulties of sustaining a family farm over 4 generations. I got the best bits of it all. Grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins were all on the doorstep. I had almost absolute freedom to explore and build dens. Some memories are so vivid. I was a keen farmer as a child. I was always in the milking parlour with my father. I fetched the cows in and stole fresh peas from the garden. My Christmas list always comprised of miniaturised farm equipment and new cows.

I moved away for university, work, and life in general. I’m pleased to say that 7 years ago I moved back to the farm. I now live and work here with my Father. Having sold the cows, he couldn’t bear it and bought them back. He needed the help, and I secretly still harboured farming ambitions.

Some things are the same. I still get a sense of joy from so many things on the farm. A perfect morning checking stock. Mist in the valleys and awesome views. The lifelong comforting whoosh-click of the milking parlour. It is the perfect place to mull over the day’s events. You also have time to think about something that is troubling you there.

Some things have changed. It is more stressful now. The pressure is on to produce as much as possible. The goal is to do so as cheaply as possible to stay in business. It doesn’t feel like the way I want to farm. I have had to diversify to make it possible for me to be here- we can not pay two wages. We run a campsite and I do part time work with adults with learning disabilities here on the farm.

I will be growing my own farm business over the next year or two. This is because my father is starting to scale back. Dairying is not for me, not at scale anyway. I am only forty-one and my body already feels wrecked. Over the last 7 years, I have become increasingly interested in old-fashioned mixed farming. It’s like how our grandparents or even great-grandparents did it. I have often heard regenerative farming described this way and that struck a chord with me. As a small farm, we already follow many principles of regenerative farming. Still, I kept feeling like we could do more.

This year I was thrilled to secure a funded place. I will do an Agroecology Diploma at the Apricot Centre in Dartington. This opportunity will help to kickstart my regenerative farming plans. Suddenly, anything seems possible. My Christmas list is full of farm equipment and new cows again. And sheep. And goats, chickens, and pigs. And it makes me happy.

When I talk to friends about my job I am always pleasantly surprised to find they are so curious about farming. Also, slightly overwhelmed at the amount of questions about cows. So I thought I would share a little information about our farm. Check out my blog here. Follow my regenerative journey and get practical advice and tips. You can also get updates from the farm.