Once Upon a Farm Newsletter - December 2025

Author

Sam Once Upon a Farm
December 30, 2025

🌱 The Backyard Farm Update

Welcome back to another month at Once Upon a Farm! I hope you've all had a lovely Christmas and found a quiet moment to catch up on some reading. I deliberately held off on this month's newsletter until after the festivities, thinking you might actually have time to enjoy it now that the wrapping paper has been cleared away and the leftovers are under control.

Here in rural New Zealand, we're deep in summer, and the backyard is in full abundance mode. The garlic harvest is in—every single clove I planted back in May grew into a beautiful bulb, which feels like a small miracle. I've been growing my own seed garlic for over five years now, so I honestly couldn't tell you what varieties they are anymore. They've just become "my garlic," adapted to my soil and my conditions. There's something deeply satisfying about that. The garlic bed didn't stay empty for long—tomatoes that had been waiting patiently in their pots have finally gone in, reaching for the long summer days ahead.

The hens are having a classic summer. Egg numbers have dropped off as the heat kicks in, and broodiness is sweeping through the flock like a contagion. Everyone wants to sit in a nest box and glare at me when I collect eggs. I'm not letting anyone hatch at the moment—that will wait until autumn when conditions are better for raising chicks. For now, it's just a matter of gently discouraging the broodies and keeping everyone cool. On the harvest front, we're swimming in green beans, strawberries, blackberries, and zucchini—that lovely summer abundance that makes all the spring planting worthwhile.

🤔 Pottering Ponders

It strikes me every year around this time: the calendar says it's the end of the year, time for reflection and new beginnings. But for those of us in the Southern Hemisphere, January isn't a fresh start—it's the middle of everything. My growing season is at its peak. The tomatoes are just getting going. The real "new year" for my garden is June, when the frosts come and the earth rests.

The Gregorian calendar we all use was designed in and for the Northern Hemisphere, where December's short days and dormant fields naturally lend themselves to reflection and planning. The agricultural year and the calendar year align there in a way they simply don't down here. When my northern friends are poring over seed catalogues by the fire, I'm out watering at dawn and dusk, trying to keep everything alive through the dry weeks.

I've come to accept this disconnect rather than fight it. The calendar new year becomes a time to check in on long-term goals, while my true agricultural reset happens six months later. Perhaps there's something useful in having two "new years"—one for the bigger picture of life, and one for the garden specifically. It means I get to make fresh starts twice as often, which seems like a gift when you think about it that way.

What I do find worth reflecting on at this time of year is community. Whether you're planning your spring garden in the northern cold or trying to keep your tomatoes from scorching in the southern heat, we're all part of this global family of people who choose to grow things, raise animals, and participate in the ancient rhythm of cultivation. That feels worth celebrating, regardless of what hemisphere you're in.

🌍 What's in Season?

What's In Season? - December 2025

Northern Hemisphere - Winter

Planning & Preparing: This is your time for reflection and planning. Review what worked last season and what didn't. Order seeds early for the best selection. If the ground isn't frozen, now is a good time to spread compost on beds that will be planted in spring—the winter weather will help break it down.

Indoor Activities: Start thinking about seed starting setups if you're planning to start seeds indoors in late winter. Clean and repair tools. Sort through stored seeds and check viability. If you have chickens, this is a good month to deep-clean the coop during a mild spell.

Quick Pickle: Fire Cider Combine chopped onion, garlic, ginger, horseradish, and hot peppers in apple cider vinegar. Let it infuse for four weeks, strain, and add honey. A tablespoon daily is a traditional winter immune tonic.

Southern Hemisphere - Summer

Planting Now: Successive sowings of beans, lettuce (heat-tolerant varieties), and silverbeet will keep the harvest going. If you haven't already, get your main crop tomatoes in. You can still direct-sow cucumbers, corn, and pumpkins in warmer areas.

Harvesting: Green beans, zucchini, cucumbers, early tomatoes, berries, stone fruit. Keep on top of the zucchini—they go from perfect to marrow-sized overnight. Pick beans regularly to encourage more production.

Quick Preserve: Berry Freezer Jam Crush fresh berries with a bit of sugar and lemon juice. No cooking required—just portion into containers and freeze. Perfect for preserving that fresh summer flavour for winter porridge.

🔬 Science Spotlight

The Temperature Asymmetry: Why Chickens Handle Cold Better Than Heat

As summer heat affects my flock's laying and sends several hens broody, I've been thinking about how chickens regulate their temperature—and why they're so much better at handling cold than heat.

A chicken's normal body temperature sits around 40-42°C (104-107°F), which is significantly warmer than ours. This high internal temperature actually helps them in cold weather—the greater difference between their body and the air around them makes it easier to retain heat. They fluff their feathers to trap warm air against their bodies, essentially wearing a down duvet. A chicken can survive its body temperature dropping as low as 23°C (73°F) before reaching critical danger.

But heat is another story entirely. Because they're already running so warm, there's very little margin before things become dangerous. The upper lethal limit for chicken body temperature is only about 45-47°C (113-117°F)—just a few degrees above normal. And unlike us, chickens can't sweat. They have no sweat glands at all.

Instead, chickens rely on panting (technically called "gular flutter"), holding their wings away from their body, and pumping blood to their combs and wattles where it can cool before circulating back. This is why chickens with larger combs and wattles tend to be more heat-tolerant—they have more "radiator" surface area. It's also why my hens' combs get notably brighter red in summer—they're actively cooling themselves.

The thermoneutral zone for adult chickens—the temperature range where they don't have to work to regulate their body temperature—is roughly 18-24°C (65-75°F). Below this, they eat more and fluff up. Above it, they start panting, eat less, and egg production suffers. Above 40°C (105°F), you're in genuine danger territory.

This asymmetry explains why shade, ventilation, and fresh water matter so much more in summer than any amount of heating does in winter. A healthy adult chicken can handle surprisingly cold temperatures with minimal intervention, but heat stress can become life-threatening quickly.

Did You Know? Research has shown that chicks exposed to brief periods of high temperature during their first few days of life can develop improved heat tolerance that lasts into adulthood. This "thermal conditioning" appears to create lasting changes in how their hypothalamus regulates body temperature—a kind of early-life adaptation that helps them cope with heat stress later on.

📺 Last Month’s YouTube Spotlight

A Note of Thanks

As 2025 draws to a close, I wanted to take a moment to thank you all for being part of this community. Whether you've been watching the channel since the early days or just recently found your way here, your support means the world to me. Every comment, every share, every conversation about chickens and gardens and the way we choose to live—it all adds up to something that feels genuinely meaningful.

Here's to 2026, wherever in the world you're reading this, and whatever season you're stepping into. May your gardens grow, your flocks thrive, and your days be filled with the quiet satisfaction of working alongside nature rather than against it.

Until next month,

Sam