A hay crop, a carburetor, a two-month truck saga, homemade gin, and one very full summer at the farm.
The best-laid plans
It has been a busy month at Barn in the Sticks. You start looking at the weekend plan on Monday, get your supplies by Wednesday — and by Friday, everything changes. That’s farming. That’s old houses. That’s just how it goes out here.
This time it was the lawn that kicked things off. With all the rain we’ve had, the grass wasn’t waiting around for a convenient Saturday. I finally carved out time to mow — and five minutes in, the drive belt fell off the Ariens 60 XL. Spent a couple hours getting under a zero-turn mower in the summer heat putting it back together. Not a glamorous job. Not a fun job. But the lawn looks great and that’s what matters.
🌧️ The rain said, “you’re welcome.” The belt said nothing. Belts aren’t talkers.
Hay season & a carburetor on the kitchen island
The Farmall 400 carburetor before the rebuild — decades of grime, springs, and character
I’ve got about 5 acres of hay that I cut every year and put up in small square bales — old school, heavy, and honestly great exercise in the summer heat. My Farmall 400 is the heart of that operation, and this spring it needed a carburetor rebuild. So I did what any reasonable person does when it’s raining outside: I spread the rebuild kit out on the kitchen island and got to work.
There is nothing quite like cranking over a tractor after a rebuild and hearing it catch and run. My dad gave me that 400, and every time it fires up it feels like the right kind of win. Next on the list: get the belt replaced on the John Deere haybine and we’ll be cutting hay before long.
🚜 Rebuilt a carburetor on the same counter where I make sourdough. The tractor and the bread both rise when conditions are right. I’m basically a fermentation expert at this point.
The two-month truck saga
Yes, that’s the entire steering column. No, it wasn’t supposed to look like that.
And then there’s the farm truck. My 1999 F150 had the transmission cable break — and the first task was just figuring out why. Turns out I’d pushed the stuck cable a little too hard and snapped the tube inside the dash. To replace both the transmission cable and the shift tube, you basically have to dismantle the dash and drop the steering wheel. This is the part where it became a project.
It broke in my daughter’s driveway. So I’d drive out there, realize I didn’t have the right tool, drive home, get the tool, drive back out. Repeat that for two months. It sounds funny now. It was less funny at the time. But the truck is finally back home and ready for hay season. Two months of back-and-forth for a cable. Old trucks teach patience whether you want the lesson or not.
🔧 Why did it take two months to fix the transmission cable? Because wisdom and the right socket set arrived on different days.
Bread, smoke, and spare moments
Left: pork butt doing exactly what it’s supposed to do. Right: bake sale prep — jalapeño cheddar and country white sourdough, fresh out of the cast iron.
In the spare moments between all of that, I’ve been cooking on the smoker when time allows and baking bread for a local bake sale. The bread — jalapeño cheddar and country white sourdough — went fast. There’s something satisfying about pulling a dozen loaves off the rack knowing people are going to enjoy them. That’s the Barn in the Sticks spirit right there: make something good, share it.
Also been chipping away at the bathroom remodel in the 180-year-old farmhouse. Old houses have opinions, and this one gives up ground slowly and on its own schedule.
You have to make time for fun
The copper stills at Dancing Goat Distillery’s Gin Academy — and the finished product. Two bottles. One winner. (It’s mine.)
Nikki bought me a trip to Dancing Goat Distillery in Cambridge, where we made our own gin. Each person picks their botanicals, builds their recipe, and distills their own bottle right at those beautiful copper stills. It’s not a competition. They were very clear about that. We all know whose turned out better.
🌿 They said it wasn’t a contest. My gin disagreed.
J. Henry & a glimpse of what’s coming
Left: the J. Henry bourbon flight on an actual barrel stave board. Right: a Wisconsin Old Fashioned — because when in Wisconsin.
Live music on the lawn at J. Henry & Sons in Dane, Wisconsin — good bourbon, good people, good afternoon.
This hand-painted Hamm’s Beer sign stopped me cold at the craft fair. A gentleman who teaches in the season, and does woodworking and painting in the off-season made this!- Well done!
This past weekend we made it out to J. Henry & Sons Distillery in Dane, Wisconsin. Wonderful bourbon, live music on the lawn, and a craft fair full of makers selling their work. I walked through those booths and felt something click. Tables, shelves, hand-painted signs, bread — that’s exactly the direction Barn in the Sticks is heading. Seeing work like that Hamm’s sign makes you want to get back in the shop.
That’s the goal. That’s what all the belts and cables and carburetors are working toward.
🥃 J. Henry bourbon + craft fair inspiration = a very dangerous combination for the to-do list.
Like I started with — it has been a busy start to summer at Barn in the Sticks. More to come. Thanks for following along.
Enjoy your summer!
Chad & Dexter
Great content! Keep up the good work!