Three Dogs Seed Farm

08/26/2025

08/24/2025

Willie of the 7 Pots, a photoshoot.

08/12/2025

Friends, we're gathering tonight to chat about seed saving -- it is the season! Feel free to join us at 6:30 for a conversation and some hands-on examples. We'll be talking about seedkeeping for wet- and dry-seeded veggies, flowers, and native plants and I'll be sharing some of the tools of the trade and resources for home growers and seedkeepers.

SEED SAVING WORKSHOP! Tuesday, August 12th, 2025 from 6:30-7:30 at Bruce Township Hall Pavilion.

Check out this event hosted by Dani Fegan from 3 Dogs Seed Farm to learn about preparing and saving seeds for future planting. This event is free to the public and will be packed full of valuable information!

For any questions contact Mike McCarthy at 906-635-1278 or [email protected]

08/11/2025

SEED SAVING WORKSHOP! Tuesday, August 12th, 2025 from 6:30-7:30 at Bruce Township Hall Pavilion.

Check out this event hosted by Dani Fegan from 3 Dogs Seed Farm to learn about preparing and saving seeds for future planting. This event is free to the public and will be packed full of valuable information!

For any questions contact Mike McCarthy at 906-635-1278 or [email protected]

07/09/2025

Sunshine Cherry are early contenders for most vigorous tomatoes in the , but Magic Bullet is right there with them. Both were grown from and are originally from . hooks are up, but don’t have the wickets in from , yet.

07/06/2025

Made it to the guttation part of the day. Can relate to these hydathode-bearing pals, even if we’re getting rid of water for different reasons. I think it’s beautiful.

07/01/2025

Last of the June evening skies.

# smallfarm

06/27/2025

https://youtu.be/4l_OXGh0z4U

Bayer, the parent company of Monsanto, has settled over 114,000 lawsuits from people who allege they developed non-Hodgkin lymphoma after using glyphosate-ba...

05/26/2025

prep day.
AmaRosa Fingerling, Dark Red Norland, Caribou, and Huckleberry Gold are also getting a couple days to callus before being placed sub-surface.

05/26/2025

“…
and thank you to the man all night long
hosing a mist on his early-bloomed
peach tree so that the hard frost
not waste the crop, the ice
in his beard and the ghosts
lifting from him when the warming sun
told him sleep now; thank you
the ancestor who loved you
before she knew you
by smuggling seeds into her braid for the long
journey, who loved you
before he knew you by putting
a walnut tree in the ground, who loved you
before she knew you by not slaughtering
the land; thank you
who did not bulldoze the ancient grove
of dates and olives,
who sailed his keys into the ocean
and walked softly home; who did not fire, who did not
plunge the head into the toilet, who said stop,
don’t do that; who lifted some broken
someone up; who volunteered
the way a plant birthed of the reseeding plant
is called a volunteer, like the plum tree
that marched beside the raised bed
in my garden, like the arugula that marched
itself between the blueberries,
nary a bayonet, nary an army, nary a nation,
which usage of the word volunteer
familiar to gardeners the wide world
made my pal shout “Oh!” and dance
and plunge his knuckles
into the lush soil before gobbling two strawberries
and digging a song from his guitar
made of wood from a tree someone planted, thank you;

thank you zinnia, and gooseberry, rudbeckia
and pawpaw, Ashmead’s kernel, cockscomb
and scarlet runner, feverfew and lemonbalm;
thank you knitbone and sweetgrass and sunchoke
and false indigo whose petals stammered apart
by bumblebees good lord please give me a minute...
and moonglow and catkin and crookneck
and painted tongue and seedpod and johnny jump-up;
thank you what in us rackets glad
what gladrackets us;

and thank you, too, this knuckleheaded heart, this pelican heart,
this gap-toothed heart flinging open its gaudy maw
to the sky, oh clumsy, oh bumblef**ked,
oh giddy, oh dumbstruck,
oh rickshaw, oh goat twisting
its head at me from my peach tree’s highest branch,
balanced impossibly gobbling the last fruit,
its tongue working like an engine,
a lone sweet drop tumbling by some miracle
into my mouth like the smell of someone I’ve loved;
…”

-Ross Gay, from Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude

05/25/2025

The holiday feels early this year and I’ve felt late. The frost on my tent this morning is a small admonishment and also a gentle reminder— Don’t rush. It’s okay. Tender plants don’t like ice. Maybe I’m in time.

I slowed down this morning and was greeted by the sun and fog on the Fox. Magnolia, Black-and-white, and Black-throated green warblers. A veery and a vireo. Parulas and pileateds. Waterthrush as the sun came up and the whip-poor-will tucked in. This would be enough.

I don’t have much to return for their song, but the leathery, sweet leaves in my hand from seasons passed remind me that we do what we can.

Wishing you all slow mornings and birdsong.

05/22/2025

Little calves are bouncing around, trying to feed off the wrong end of mom. For a few minutes the sky was on fire.