HeyJaredOwl Hill Homestead
A shepherdess, sourdough mama, and shutterbug seeking to document a well lived life on our New England croft.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 5
- Latest publication
- Sep 24, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 23, 2026
Latest issues
Making Progress and Fighting the Imposter (opens the original)
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Our fair season ended with a delightful washout. In a last-minute pivot, the kids and I ditched the plan to do a big fair next month in favor of attending the smallest, and most authentic fair we’ve yet to attend. The focus was primarily on agriculture and 4H projects, which were conveniently housed in one large and very comfortable barn. Our rabbits were next door to our sheep pens, and we stayed dry despite the rain that settled in overnight Saturday and continued throughout Sunday. We had a w
When a Project Brings Rest (opens the original)
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We are packing for our final 4H fair of the season, and alongside the camping and livestock necessities like tents, buckets, and harnesses, I’m making sure to pack a Mama necessity: a knitting project. I’m almost afraid to jinx it, but this weekend will be the closest thing to a vacation I get. I’ll only have my two older kids, and they are solely responsible for their animal projects. My job is to feed them, take photos, and be on hand in case of emergency. Which means I get to sit, cast on a n
Autumn Whispers on the Homestead (opens the original)
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We’ve entered my season: the ‘ber months. I get more excited about cozy sweaters and wrapping my hands around a hot drink than swimsuits and ice clinking in a glass poolside. Maybe it’s because I was born in September (is there any correlation between birth month and favorite season?). Maybe it’s because I’m a New England girl and the leaves put on a show every autumn. Maybe it’s because the window between finishing a knit project and wearing it is much smaller.While I entertain the invitation t
Shifting Seasons (opens the original)
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It's Official, We're Official (opens the original)
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Our family was emptying a truck bed of wood chips when the mail truck pulled into our driveway. The kids greeted the driver merrily as I took the envelope and thanked her, ready to tuck it to the side and finish the job at hand. A glance at the sender made me freeze, then slowly tear the flap open.A little over a week ago, I was sitting at my computer, my head in my hands. Registration paperwork was spread before me and I was battling perfectionism and its best friend, procrastination. As a new
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