Notes from the pasture: goat escapes, small harvests, and the ordinary days that make up life at The Missing Triplet.
The Farm Doesn't Care About Your Ring Light
October 28, 2026
Back in February, I wrote about why I stopped being a YouTuber — the rooster that crowed louder than my notifications, the three years I didn't notice I'd stopped recording. This post is the other half of that: what I'd say to her now, if I could stand in the barn aisle and talk to the girl with the ring light.
First: the lighting out here is terrible, and nobody cares. The sun doesn't check your golden hour. The barn aisle gets one bulb, and some days I'm not sure it flickers on purpose. The guinea fowl lose their minds at sunrise like the sky is falling, and not one of them has ever asked for a better angle.
Second: makeup on the farm is a frustration, not a requirement. Being natural feels better anyway, and there's no point putting anything on — farm sweat is a whole new kind of sweat, and it takes whatever I put on right back off. It doesn't bead politely, either. Farm sweat shows up with hay in it and stays through the entire chore list.
I'd tell her I know how many takes she did. One more take. One more edit. Caption, thumbnail, post, refresh. Out here there are no takes. There's just Tuesday. The goats don't wait for you to be ready, the rooster doesn't wait for good light, and the hose you left on the ground gets pecked full of holes while you're busy framing a shot.
I'd tell her the comment section was never the point. I checked it first thing in the morning for years. Now the first thing I check is who's limping, who's out of water, and who's plotting an escape. Nobody claps. The animals don't leave comments. But when Petey wags his tail like a monkey's the second he sees me, that's a review. Five stars.
I'd tell her that being watched and being needed are not the same thing. Only one of them fills you up.
The math changed, too. I used to count views. Now I count eggs, hay bales, and how many times the vet had to come back for the same two grumpy cats. It turns out a smaller number can still be a better one.
And here's the part I'd say quietly, because it took me the longest to learn: she thought the camera was how she showed people who she was. But you can be known by a million strangers and still feel unseen. These animals don't know my channel. They know my boots, my voice, and whether I showed up at six.
She used to say she had faith in her pocket. She still does. It just stopped being a prop and started being the thing holding me up.
The farm doesn't care about your ring light. It doesn't care about your metrics, your aesthetic, or whether today was content. It just wants you to show up — muddy, unfiltered, no retakes. The light is worse out here. The story is better. And some mornings, if you're out early enough, God handles the lighting for free.
We Tried Church Alternatives
October 11, 2026
I wish I could tell you we stopped going to church because we had some thoughtful plan for doing things differently.
We didn’t. Life was hard, our marriage was hurting, and I was trying to find comfort somewhere in the middle of it all. Preferably without having to explain why I was crying.
The past few years in our marriage have been hard in ways I’m still figuring out how to talk about. God wasn’t at the center of our marriage, and I could feel that absence throughout our house. It wasn’t just between my husband and me. The hurt followed me into everything, and my health suffered drastically, too.
I wanted comfort. Solace. A little peace in the middle of a storm that didn’t seem interested in moving along.
And sometimes, all I had was the kitchen floor.
I’ve written before about screaming at God down there. I wasn’t putting together a beautiful prayer. I was hurting, and I needed Him to hear me. There were also times I cried out loud in the valley. The kitchen floor and the valley became my prayer war rooms.
Not exactly the setup I would have chosen. But apparently, I didn’t need to get myself together before I could talk to God. Which was good, because getting myself together was not going particularly well.
In the meantime, we tried other ways to keep faith in our lives.
We watched Superbook. We watched The Bible Project on YouTube. I followed other Christian farmers, people whose lives included both faith and the everyday work of caring for animals and growing things.
None of that meant our marriage suddenly got easier. A video wasn’t going to undo years of hurt. But those were ways we could keep turning toward God when we weren’t going to church.
I needed that. Not another thing to do perfectly. Not another reason to feel like I was falling short. Just somewhere to turn when I felt overwhelmed by my own life.
Calling them “church alternatives” makes it sound a little more organized than it was. Like we researched our options and made a nice little chart.
Really, we were trying to find our way.
We’re now in the process of joining a new church. I’m hopeful about that, but I don’t want to write this as though we’ve reached the happy ending and everything is settled. We haven’t.
I’m also hoping to start Bible study with my husband again. That’s still a hope, not something I can check off a list. I want God at the center of our marriage again, and I want us to make room for Him together.
For now, this is where we are: finding a church, watching and learning at home, and trying to keep turning toward God in the middle of the hard stuff.
I don’t have a tidy lesson to leave you with. I’m still living this part.
But I can tell you that some of my most honest prayers happened on a kitchen floor, or out in the valley, crying loud enough that I didn’t have to pretend I was fine.
I was looking for comfort in the storm. I still am.
Ten Temu Finds That Survived the Farm (and Three That Didn't)
September 26, 2026
Buying something for the farm is one thing. Finding out whether it can survive the farm is another.
Sometimes the chickens get involved. Sometimes I buy something for ducks and discover it's only for chickens. Sometimes my husband tells me not to buy something, and then has the nerve to be right.
So here's my honest haul: ten things I bought from Temu that made it, and three that didn't. Links included — partly so you can see I'm not making any of this up, and partly so you can make better choices than I did.
What survived
1. Galvanized Raised Garden Bed Kit. Amazing and sturdy, and much larger than I expected. They survived heavy winds and rain just fine, and honestly, they look amazing in the garden.
2. Coconut Palm Fiber Pot Brush with Wooden Handle. I actually use these to clean out and sweep rabbit poop from my lionhead bunnies' cages when it gets on the floor and a large broom is too big to reach. Farming is glamorous.
3. Rabbit Cage Feet Mats. All of my meat rabbits use these and love them. The one catch: they need to be stable and secured in the cage, or the rabbit will push them right out when kicking or getting excited.
4. Portable Sink & Fish Cleaning Table. I bought this for processing my meat rabbits, and it came with everything I didn't even think I needed. It weighs less than a typical folding table, so I can move it around the room without asking for help, and the price meant I saved quite a bit by checking Temu first.
5. Solar Mushroom Lights (15-pack). These have survived by the skin of their teeth. They aren't very sturdy, but they're sturdy enough to withstand the outdoor elements. I wrapped them around the base of my outdoor rabbit hutch, which currently houses four quail, and it looks absolutely adorable. The battery only lasts half the night, but so do I, sometimes.
6. Electric Wood Chipper Shredder. My husband told me not to purchase this, but I couldn't resist the deal. Come to find out, it's too small for what we need: it only handles twigs and small branches — the max cutting diameter is 1.75 inches, which is twig territory, not log territory. Husband was right (for once), because what we really need is a chipper that can shred and mulch logs so I can eventually make my own bedding.
7. Six-Piece Poultry Feeder and Waterer Set. These were an absolute menace when I first got them. I had over 200 birds (majority babies) at one point and needed a lot of waterers without breaking the bank or making several mini trips to Tractor Supply. They're flimsy, but surprisingly none have broken in the four months I've owned them. They are frustrating until you learn which top fits which bottom — without spilling water down your arm at the same time.
8. Outdoor Egg Storage Carrier. Very helpful and sturdy when our chickens go above and beyond laying eggs. I have several egg holders for our fridge, but this is the only one that goes outside for egg collection — and I get to avoid that squeaky, ungodly sound that comes from styrofoam egg holders.
9. 2.64-Gallon Poultry Waterer with 10 Cups and Legs. A lifesaver, but only when you have extra waterers for the rest of the flock. It keeps water available all day, though I do refill it every night. It's pretty sturdy and well made, and the water cups are interchangeable, so if one doesn't work, you can swap in a different brand.
10. Flexible Garden Hose Kit. I love this hose so much that I bought two more. They're way more flexible than a standard garden hose, they look nicer in the different colors, and they don't hold onto dust or chicken poop like the typical hose does. I did make the mistake of leaving one on the ground at our outdoor horse wash station, and on a hot day my chickens pecked a few holes in it — not deeply enough to damage it. Lesson learned, money well spent.
1. Natural Nesting Pads. These are amazing for your nesting boxes, and you get more than you expect. But my chickens hated them and scratched them to the point they flew right out of the nesting boxes. I found them on the coop floor every single morning.
2. Adjustable Long-Handle Litter Scoop. I realized I needed a much larger and longer one that I don't have to bend over to use constantly. This was entirely too small to really do anything. I suppose it would work for cleaning ledges in your coop, but it doesn't seem worth it.
3. Chicken Leg Splints. Very well made, and I got a lot more than I was expecting. They also seem like something my husband could make with his 3D printer, albeit slowly. But my chickens don't like them, and I haven't figured out how to actually use them. Note: they're only for chickens, even though I needed them for my ducks. Smh. Rookie mistake. This one's sold out with no similar item right now, so no link — possibly Temu protecting you from my mistakes.
Would I Buy Farm Supplies from Temu Again?
Yes. There are things on this list I genuinely love. The garden beds, processing table, egg carrier, and hoses have all been good purchases for me.
But I'm learning to look past the deal and ask whether something actually fits the job I need it to do.
And to read the measurements.
And the species.
Possibly to listen to my husband about wood chippers. I'm still processing that one.
