Firesign Family Farm

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Firesign Family Farm We are a small, family run farm using traditional methods of sustainable, pastured livestock production. Visits are by appointment only; please no drop-ins.

Our main focus is raw dairy with both Normande X Jersey cows and Alpine goats. Located in beautiful southeast Michigan, Firesign Family Farm is dedicated to raising livestock in an ethical, natural environment using organic farming methods and without growth hormones, pesticides or prophylactic antibiotics. Through our classes and consultations we are also dedicated to passing on our knowledge and expertise, giving you the opportunity to experience the joys, obligations, and gratification associated with life on a small family farm. It's a lifestyle of peace, joy, hard work and infinite reward. Join us! All visits are by appointment only.

**Firesign Family Farm is proud to be wheelchair accessible and welcomes groups and individuals with special needs!**

10/12/2026

Just in case you’re wondering what to do with a space under stairs, well here’s an option. Build a frame, cement the tub area, wire in some outlets, drywall and paint, include a drain out the back wall into the septic system, and Voila! you have yourself a multi-purpose environment with so many possibilities. This particular one has housed a young alligator, brooded chicks (drained of course), overwintered Emerson (also while dry), grown herbs, and, when live inhabitants were unavailable, served as a catch all for all manner of stuff.

It was in an all manner of stuff mode when we set out last week to refurbish it for Leonardo’s winter home; you may recall bringing him in before cold weather arrives has been on The List for awhile. And here you see the tank in its infancy. Leonardo was brought in Saturday and we just caught his goldfish buddies and brought them in yesterday. Turtles are not nearly as susceptible to water changes, especially in pH, as are fish so we gave the tub a few days to acclimate before fetching them. Adding gravel, plants, and some outdoor tank water sped up the process. Plus the tank, though replenished with rainwater, was originally filled, and topped during the drought, from the same well that filled most of this new spot. So all was good.

We expect the water hyacinths will flourish, the algae will expand, and we will add another floating log when we find a good one. Maybe more plants. And if you’re ever here you can say Hi to Leonardo; he likes the attention.

If you buy eggs from a neighbor at a little stand on the corner.If you get a quarter beef from the guy who has a small h...
10/11/2026

If you buy eggs from a neighbor at a little stand on the corner.
If you get a quarter beef from the guy who has a small herd on his 10 acres.
If you like the idea of small town Farmer’s Markets.
If you support the youth at the 4-H Fair showing their livestock.
If you stand behind the right to choose what you eat, how it’s produced, and knowing it comes from a local source and is not trucked half way across the country. Know that you can shake the hand that grew it, help put clothes on the back of their children and enable mortgage payments. If you’d rather see green fields dotted with sheep and cows than more houses crammed in where once a farm flourished.
If you’re against being at the mercy of local governments deciding what conformity should look like when it comes to a rural heritage.
If any of these, and many more examples of agricultural land use, apply to you then YOU have a stake in understanding Michigan’s Right to Farm Act and you might be interested in attending this seminar being held at the location noted on the shared poster.
If you’ve never held a pitchfork, never driven a tractor, never risen at dawn to milk cows or feed the lambs, never toiled in the cold winter wind, blazing summer sun, chilly spring rain, never worked from sunup to sundown planting the fields, baling the hay, picking the apples, shepherding the pastured poultry and yet - YOU EAT FRESH, LOCAL FOOD- then, just then, you might want to attend this gathering and learn what it takes for so many of the folks who feed you to be protected from regulations that strive to replace their small farms with another HOA.

Because as much as all of us farmers have at stake, you are vulnerable too. I’ll be there, Pete will be there, and we know all there is to know about the Michigan Right to Farm Act. but we’ll be there to put a few more faces on the players list, show support for Kris’ effort to educate, and cheer on the fight to keep land use decisions in the hands of those who only want to serve you. Put food on your table. Preserve your view of bucolic countryside. If none of this matters to you then I salute your right to turn a blind eye to the struggle being faced by small farmers in our township and many others across the state. Help yourself to another salad from Cyclospora Acres and one more Big Mac.

And if you can’t make it, but care, you can help by joining the Farm to Consumer Legal Defense Fund whose information can be found at farmtoconsumer.org. They are who will rattle the sword when being armed with knowledge is just not enough.

If you were standing on our deck with me yesterday evening you would have seen this first hand and the “awe inspiring” q...
10/10/2026

If you were standing on our deck with me yesterday evening you would have seen this first hand and the “awe inspiring” quotient would have been higher than seeing it here in pictures. But the good thing about the pictures is you can imagine this to be the almost gone finality of any decent Visitors from Outer Space movie just before the universe sucks the spaceship back into another dimension. What I was intending to capture on film - do you still call it film? - was the sun’s backlighting of the Pampas grass seedheads into a rosy glow. What I was thinking about are the last few “gotta do” items to tend this weekend before the temperatures enter the staying chilly zone. Which, if the long range forecasters are to be believed, begins with Monday night’s rain. Until the vision before me captured my thoughts.

I am curious what you would have been thinking about if you happened to be standing with me on the deck yesterday. And do you believe in visitors from other dimensions, otherly realms of distant solar systems? When I gaze on such grandeur I am filled with a sense of belonging to a reality that extends so very much further than what our known existence explains. I wonder what is beyond the silvery opening into eternity, I marvel at the solid tangibility of the grass beneath my feet, and I release myself to embrace the in between.

Only 8 turkeys left for reserving for this year’s harvest so if you want one from us I suggest you speak up soon. They’r...
10/08/2026

Only 8 turkeys left for reserving for this year’s harvest so if you want one from us I suggest you speak up soon. They’re 6.50 per pound and will average 23 lbs; all the smaller ones are spoken for but there may be some even bigger. We keep these birds penned overnight and through the early morning hours then let them loose to roam the barnyard and gardens all afternoon. They eat quite a bit of vegetation during this loose time and are fed non-GMO scratch grains - corn, oats, and barley - in the morning and as a lure to come back into the pen. This method produces a bird with flavor and juicyness unattainable by confinement raising on heavy soy based commercial feeds. And of course much better for your own health. Anyway, only 8 remaining so text me soon at 734 449 0247 if interested.

Augustus, pictured here in repose with his sister Sophia and big brother Samson, frequently employs his innate herding skills when it’s time to re-pen the turkeys. At just 5 months old he already evinces the steadfast loyalty and calm demeanor of a working farm dog. For the most part he shadows me around the barnyard when I’m choring, comes willingly when called, and stays out of the way when the cows are coming and going. Couldn’t ask for a better pup.

And you can’t ask for a better bird on your holiday table than one raised here by us. And the calendar is clicking by fast.

10/07/2026

We did get a decent frost night before last but it didn’t hurt anything. The few ornamentals and potted herbs that could have been impacted are up by the house where the building’s thermal mass mitigated the cold. But we are well aware the time has come to take steps to deal with anything that cannot take the cold. Looking at the long range forecast we have until Monday until the Norfolk pine, split leaf Schefflera, rosemary, lavender, and tropical Hibiscus need to be brought indoors. The lavender should have been in the ground as it’s hardy; it will get tucked into the hoophouse and planted out properly next Spring. We will also bring in Emerson, Leonardo, and the goldfish this coming Monday. The End is Near.

The frost did hit most of the remaining squash vines growing in the curve garden so we gathered all that fruit yesterday. Literally hundreds of pounds of sweet, vitamin laden nutrition can be grown in a modest square footage of super rich soil so , boy oh boy, do we have squash! It will be happy here in the barn until hard freeze by which time we hope to have sold a fair amount of it, and of course consumed some (sausage stuffed squash for this Euchre night ladies). The remainder will keep a very long time in the freezer room of the barn on the wire rack shelves. Anything that threatens to rot will be immediately cooked or fed to the livestock. I like to have small tubs of frozen squash available anyway as it’s a quick, easy addition to any soups, stews, or composites (think leftover stirfries) that may be on the menu. Adds a nice thickening body to a sauce.

Thelma Sanders, Sweet Meat, Butternut, and Delicata. Plus those few long, warty, orange striped yellow strangers I think are a cross pollinated volunteer gourd. Probably not edible but we’ll cook one up to see.

An occasional photo of someone’s extensive cast iron cookware collection, all perfectly seasoned and arranged decorative...
10/06/2026

An occasional photo of someone’s extensive cast iron cookware collection, all perfectly seasoned and arranged decoratively on a wall behind their woodstove, will come to my attention. I’ll think, hmmm, maybe I should find someplace to hang my few pieces so they can be enjoyed as works of art beyond just the culinary masterpieces they produce. But then I think of having to wipe them down for dust, dog hair, spiders, and stinkbugs every time I want to use one and think, nah, they’re better off in the cupboard.

I know there are folks who cook in nothing but cast iron, use theirs year around. But I’m a seasonal cast iron user and also tend to only use it when cooking for us. When cooking for a crowd, which is frequent, I prefer to rely on my stainless steel pots and pans so I don’t need to fret about the clean-up afterwards. And it’s a bad idea to stick a cast iron pan full of leftovers into the refrigerator where the moisture of the food and high humidity of the appliance can wreak havoc on the finish. And we rely heavily on leftovers so I don’t need to cook up a new meal every night after working all day.

Jason is sending his crew of J’s Tree Trimming and Removal Service lads next week to prune back the giant Silver maple that is looming over the house and blocking some of the critical air flow of the wood stove chimney. None too soon as the season for having a fire at least overnight has arrived. And that’s when cooking with cast iron enters the amusement stage; build a small fire in the wood stove and cook directly over the flames in the box. Once dinner is done the fire can be ramped up for overnight comfort in the October chill. Scrape the leftovers into a fridge worthy bowl, wipe out the pan, then put it away in the cupboard. Away from the dust, hair and bugs.

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it - - -” or words to that effect as an echo from the very old Mission Imposs...
10/05/2026

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it - - -” or words to that effect as an echo from the very old Mission Impossible TV show, have, only of late, become a qualifier to my daily plans while skimming the list of garden specific things needing done. I have only myself to answer to, there is no international crisis to avert, so I have more leeway in choosing to follow through on many of the self-imposed tasks at hand to complete before winter shuts it all down. And, having chosen to hit it hard these past few days, this old body is groaning at the thought of another day of hard labor. At least at this early hour; I expect I’ll loosen up as the morning progresses and by the time we’re through with chores and morning customers I’ll be ready to tackle more “winter’s coming” activities. Like planting next year’s garlic.

First I have to decide where to put it. I’m leaning heavily towards re-purposing a very large and now leaky water tank that would work quite well plus add yet another raised bed planter to the garden. But this tank’s use will require it to be hauled from its current grave in the east pasture to the garden, enhanced drainage whacked in its bottom with the old, dull axe whose only job is to whack drainage in old leaky tanks and tubs, then filled with compost. The last part will be the easiest as this will entail but a few trips from the compost pile with the tractor. Then the dirt needs to be packed down some so picture this if you can - a sore, hobbly old lady climbing into a very large, leaky, compost filled water trough and stomping around to pack dirt. I will position the tractor bucket just so to provide a hand hold balance assist. I know this works; I’ve done it before. Seems somewhat daunting right now at this early hour having only recently hauled achingly out of bed but, even as we speak, I can feel the coffee working its magic, and visualizing the steps is beginning to sound like fun. What seemed like Mission Impossible just a few minutes ago is rapidly becoming the plan for the day.

10/04/2026

The choir is singing in church this morning and I dreamed through the night that I forgot to go. Not that they wouldn’t do just fine without me but it is a commitment I’ve made and involvement I enjoy. I’ve been singing in the Webster UCC choir for 40 years and plan to continue to do so as long as they’ll have me. I’ll be one of those old, old ladies, hobbling to the front with my walker to screech out the high notes, fingernails on the chalkboard, while the congregation grimaces with tolerant fortitude.

I was practicing my hobbling after picking the last of the peppers - four milk crates full - pulling up the plants, then pulling up all the black plastic to allow for the turkey release you see in the video. The pile of plastic, white on the bottom by the way, is covering the pile of pepper plants that contain large quantities of toxic alkaloids that the dumb turkeys do not know better than to eat. A few nibbles here and there won’t harm them but I didn’t want to risk one consuming enough to do damage. My first husband, Alan, and I went to visit his cousin Jane and her husband, Tom, on their little farm many years ago. They met us on the outskirts of Indianapolis and escorted us the rest of the way (pre-dated GPS by decades); upon arrival at their little farm we all discovered their small turkey flock had found the kitchen door that had somehow been left open, gone in and hopped up on the counters, and eaten all the cayenne pepper plants, fruit and all, that were hanging from the rafters in the small, rustic farmhouse kitchen to dry, and croaked. Dead turkeys and turkey crap everywhere. One of those events you just never forget, build epic stories around, and file away in your “If I Ever Raise Turkeys” folder.

Eventually I’ll get around to neatly-ish folding the plastic sheets to be piled for next year’s use. They could actually sit as you see them just fine but I want to clear the area to dump barn bedding on all winter. My not so secret formula to extremely fertile soil and a productive garden. Where the plastic is piled is designated next season’s sweet corn patch in the rotation and corn is a heavy feeder. The pile of hidden pepper plants will be heaped elsewhere and burned along with the raspberry canes, asparagus fronds, and corn stalks. But that’s weeks down the road.

Today begins a serious take down of the garden, not that there won’t be plenty more nice days to rip and tear but becaus...
10/03/2026

Today begins a serious take down of the garden, not that there won’t be plenty more nice days to rip and tear but because I’m going to start running the turkey flock through the area. So, rather than do it later when it’s covered with turkey poo, I’ll roll up all the heavy black plastic mulch. Prior to doing that I have to pull the remainder of the pepper plants, make a nice pile of them and the spent tomato vines off of the plastic, stack the cage supports, and harvest anything I still want for ourselves. Green tomatoes for one last batch of salsa verde, both hot and sweet peppers, some eggplant, and maybe a few handfuls of green beans. Then I can let slip the feathered horde to work their helpful havoc, proverbially killing three birds with one stone - garden clean-up, free turkey food, and entertainment; you gotta laugh at the blundering antics of these lowly intelligent birds. And perhaps a fourth stone would be that all of this will spare me from having to organize my linen closet.

Though to be honest I have been finding excuses to avoid linen closet organization for all of my adult life. For starters, I do not have a linen closet. I have a linen cubby (per picture) and it’s small enough that I can ruffle through it looking for extra bedding for the three upstairs beds. The two downstairs bedrooms have drawers in dressers for their extra sheets and the main floor bathroom has a shelf for towels. The upstairs bathroom has a small basket on a shelf that needs no organizing as it only holds a few extra hand towels. And, as represented by the other shared photo, I also do not possess high heels, a coiffed hairdo, or even a shirtwaist dress (50s model or otherwise); can’t play the role without the proper costume. Instead I’ll be clad in grubby jeans and hoodie, my hair will be tousled and vegetated, and if it’s warm enough I’ll be barefoot. If not, sure won’t be heels in which I’ll be shod. But really, no one dresses like that anymore and I doubt very many of you are concerned with the perfectly organized linen closet whether you farm or not. We’ve come a long way, baby!

We don’t travel, we don’t eat out. We don’t shop the latest fashions nor drive a new car. But let the Webster Fall Festi...
10/02/2026

We don’t travel, we don’t eat out. We don’t shop the latest fashions nor drive a new car. But let the Webster Fall Festival’s rummage sale open its doors, entrust us with grandkids for the day, and the tight purse strings loosen and our version of wanton spending unfolds. This consists of no questions asked reaching into the pocket when one of the kids says, “Grandma I need more money. I found something really cool.” Five and ten dollar bills are handed forth, sometimes accompanied by personal attendance in response to, “you need to help me carry it.” Thus it was with Finn’s treasure that enthralled not only him but several other visitors to our Farm Animal display tent; post purchase he spent quite a bit of time examining the mechanics, figuring out the “how does it do its”, and practicing his typing skills on the few sheets of paper I’d brought in case I needed to make any notes. This purchase was declared to be his favorite part of the whole Festival, topping operating the Historic ground’s new hand pump, attending the One Room Schoolhouse sessions, and free feeding at the various food opportunities. All of which received Honorable Mention status when the day was discussed as we prepared for bed when all was said and done Saturday night.

We also talked about whose typewriter it used to be, a question we do not have an answer to. And what exciting, profound, or maybe simply mundane literary uses to which it may have been put. Did it write a great novel or a fun children’s book? Letters to loved ones, screes or pleas to politicians? School assignments, office assignments, or, as Finn proudly asserted with his, “Grandma we can use this to make your lists”, did it fill a niche once served by simple pen and paper. Replacing ancient technology as it has probably in turn been replaced by laptop keyboard or even voice dictation. If it was yours, if it was loved and well used, rest assured it has found new life, at least for awhile, in the hands of a fascinated 8 year old. We’re going to make lists together.

And note the gentleman in the background watching over Finn’s bent mop topped head. He declined the opportunity to take a turn but watched the children for quite awhile. Said he was remembering. That’s a most wonderful thing about this Festival. It not only makes memories but brings so many dormant ones to new life.

Address

7500 Trotters Lane
Whitmore Lake, MI
48189

Telephone

(734) 449-0247

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