Sunrise and Slop Buckets: The Unfiltered Reality of the Morning Grind. From the first crow of the rooster to the final bale of hay, come behind the scenes of a morning where the coffee is strong but the livestock is stronger. Experience the literal heavy lifting that happens before the rest of the world wakes up.
The Pre-Dawn Symphony: Why 5:00 AM is the Real Prime Time
While most of the world is currently enjoying the “deep sleep” phase of their night, my day has already hit second gear. There’s a specific kind of silence that exists on a farm at 5:00 AM—it’s not a quiet silence; it’s a heavy, expectant silence. It’s the sound of twenty different animals holding their breath, waiting for the distinct click of the back door and the jingle of the barn keys. That sound is the starter pistol for the morning chores, and once it goes off, there is no hitting the snooze button.
I’ve uploaded the full vlog to YouTube because a sixty-second clip just can’t capture the sheer volume of “stuff” that has to happen before I can even think about breakfast. You see the highlights on the feed, but the vlog is where you see the mud, the missed steps, and the face-to-face negotiations with a goat who has decided that my shoelaces are the finest delicacy on the planet.
The Order of Operations
Morning chores are a high-stakes puzzle. If you feed the chickens before you check the water troughs, you’ve wasted steps. If you forget to lock the grain bin before you open the gate, you’ve started a riot. Every morning is a test of my “Order of Operations.” It’s basically physical mathematics, but instead of numbers, I’m calculating the trajectory of a hungry pig and the weight-bearing capacity of a plastic bucket.
In the vlog, you’ll see the “chore shuffle.” It’s that rhythmic, slightly delirious walk I do between the hay loft and the stalls. It’s not graceful. I’m wearing three layers of mismatched flannel, a hat that I’m pretty sure a bird tried to nest in yesterday, and boots that have seen things no person should have to see. But there’s a meditation in the movement. There’s a sense of purpose in knowing that these lives literally depend on my ability to show up, even when the thermometer is telling me to go back to bed.
The Comedy of the Coops
If you want to see true chaos, watch the segment where I let the birds out. Chickens have no concept of “personal space” or “waiting your turn.” It’s a feathered stampede every single morning. I’ve tried to narrate these moments with some dignity, but it’s hard to look professional when you’re being swarmed by thirty hens who think your ankles are secretly made of cracked corn.
The vlog captures the parts I usually edit out—the moments where I trip over a hidden rock, the times I have to chase a runaway calf in my pajamas, and the internal monologue I have with myself about why I didn’t just choose a career in accounting. It’s raw, it’s dusty, and it’s the most honest work I’ve ever done.
Why We Do It
By the time the sun is actually up and the “normal” world is starting their commute, I’m finished. I’m covered in a fine layer of hay dust, my hands are cold, and I smell like a barnyard—and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s a profound satisfaction in seeing every animal fed, watered, and settled.
So, head over to the channel to see the full, unglamorous, hilarious truth of what “morning chores” actually looks like. It’s not just a job; it’s the heartbeat of the farm.
