Forrest Foster is a farmer in Hardwick, Vermont. It’s an organic dairy farm, seventy cows total and about forty milking at any given time. I spent an afternoon following Forrest around the barn, his sugarshack, we took a long ride in his tractor, out past his deer camp. He took me to the place where he cuts cedar and hemlock boughs for deer in the winter, and dispatches his old animals to feed the bear and the deer and the coyotes and the ravens.
Forrest would rather trade services than exchange money. He’ll give you meat if you can’t afford it, and he’ll expect you’ll do some chores in exchange. What I love about Forrest Foster is that he’s always practical and always generous, and these things are always the same thing.