Frith Field Farms

02/25/2026

A dream for Frith Field Farms...

https://www.facebook.com/share/1Axa51xVur/?mibextid=wwXIfr

At 70 years old, Robyn Yerian from Texas made a decision that would change dozens of lives.
She took about $150,000 of her retirement savings and built something special: a women-centered tiny home community called The Bird's Nest.
The story begins in 2016 when Robyn, living in Dallas, watched an episode of "Tiny House Nation." She was facing retirement and realized she needed to drastically cut her living expenses. The tiny home lifestyle caught her attention.
In 2017, she moved into someone else's tiny home village in Decatur, Texas, paying $450 a month for her lot. She lived there in her own tiny home, learning how the model worked.
But Robyn started reading articles about making passive income in retirement. A friend who worked in finance encouraged her to buy land she could someday rent out.
The idea grew into something bigger.
In 2022, Robyn withdrew $35,000 from her 401(k) and bought five acres of land near Cumby, Texas—a small town about 60 miles northeast of Dallas.
The land had no electricity. No running water. It needed excavation and a new septic system.
Robyn invested another $100,000 developing the property. She created 14 concrete pads—each 10 by 30 feet—with full hookups: electricity, water, septic. Just like an RV park, but designed as something more.
In 2022, she moved her tiny home from Decatur to Cumby.
Initially, she opened the community to anyone over 55. She called it The Bird's Nest.
But then something unexpected happened.
Robyn hosted a workshop teaching women how to use power tools to maintain their tiny homes. About 20 women attended.
One night, they all sat around the fire pit together.
The conversation turned to what this place could become. Someone floated the idea: What if this was a women-only community?
The women loved it.
"It was all by accident," Robyn later said. "I didn't start out wanting to empower women—it evolved."
She quickly realized something important: "Eighty-five to 90% of the people living in tiny homes are retired women on a budget, on a fixed income. And so I knew the audience would be big."
The Bird's Nest became an all-women community.
Today, 11 women call it home. They range in age from 33 to 78, though most are between 60 and 80 years old. They come from all different backgrounds, from all across the country. Some are single. Some divorced. Some widowed.
They each rent their concrete pad for $450 a month.
On that pad, they can park their RV or build their own tiny home. The rent includes water, access to a storm shelter, and shared amenities like a community center, a pool, a fire pit, and what they call "the party pad" where residents gather for cookouts.
The entire community sits on 2.5 acres (Robyn kept the rest of the five acres undeveloped). It's completely fenced and gated. Every resident has a clicker to open the gate.
Each woman has her own space—her own deck, her own garden with flowers and landscaping. Privacy and independence.
But they also have each other.
"We drive each other to doctor's appointments if needed," Robyn explains. "We look in on each other if someone has the flu or surgery. We are each other's therapists and sounding board."
They cook and eat meals together. They meet most evenings for cocktails to catch up about their day. They have book club. They garden together. They help each other with home repairs, sharing tools like a community shovel.
They have nine dogs between them who run happily through the yards.
One resident, Cheryl, had a knee replacement about two months after moving in. "Everybody pitched in and helped," she says. "Not everybody has to have the same thing, and I think that's another good thing about The Bird's Nest."
The women come from diverse backgrounds. Their politics, sexualities, ages, religions—they span the spectrum. Some have been married and divorced; others have never married.
But they all share a commitment to one another and to the community's guiding principles: mental wellness, non-judgment, connection, and helping hands.
There aren't many formal rules. But there's one unofficial rule that Robyn does enforce: "No drama."
As the community's website puts it: "This community is female owned, developed and operated. It is dedicated to women empowering women along their journey. We encourage, help, console and laugh with each other. There is no 'you're doing it wrong' or 'that won't work' here."
Many women contacted Robyn needing somewhere safe to go—to escape abusive situations, or because they were recently divorced and needed affordable housing.
Robyn tells every person who comes: "I'm never going to raise the rent, and I mean it. I've even offered reduced prices to a couple of women that were in bad financial situations. I believe that's how you build a community—showing others they can count on you and you on them."
Getting into The Bird's Nest is competitive.
Currently, there's one opening available. And Robyn says she has about 500 people who want that last spot.
The vetting process is rigorous but informal. Prospective residents must call Robyn first for a phone conversation. Then they're invited to Texas to spend a few days at The Bird's Nest, meeting Robyn and all the current residents in person.
"Many of my tenants flew in for the process," Robyn notes.
The visit isn't just about seeing the place. It's about finding the right fit. People living at The Bird's Nest must be self-sufficient enough to stand on their own, but eager to support the other members of the community.
"We all run the community together," Robyn says. "I don't make the rules—it is their home too."
The women describe the atmosphere as "a college dorm for older people."
For Robyn, the goal goes beyond just providing affordable housing.
"My goal is really to keep people out of nursing homes," she told The New York Times.
And the model seems designed to do exactly that.
"If someone gets to the point where they can't move around too much, we're ready to jump in and help to a certain extent," Robyn explains. "We have home health care here that can come out like three times a week. We're going to do whatever we can to enable people to stay here as long as they possibly can."
Women can live comfortably at The Bird's Nest on a modest income—perhaps $20,000 to $30,000 a year.
Robyn had a simple dream. She wanted women to grow older with dignity, not loneliness.
"I didn't quite realize how many women are struggling in retirement," she says. "So now, I am always thinking of ways I can encourage women."
The need is clear.
According to government data, 43% of women over 75 live alone. Twenty-seven percent of women ages 65 to 74 live alone.
The majority—80%—of people who live alone after age 65 are divorced or widowed.
Around 10% of Americans age 65 and older live below the official poverty line. Using the Supplemental Poverty Measure, which accounts for medical expenses and other factors, that number rises to 14%.
Women are disproportionately affected. The poverty rate for older women is 10.1% to 11.2%, compared to 7.6% to 9% for men.
According to AARP data, 64% of American women ages 50 to 64 who are not retired and not married have less than $50,000 in retirement savings. A Goldman Sachs report found that 28% of retired women have less than $50,000 in savings.
Women's Social Security payouts are, on average, 20% less than men's.
For women facing retirement with limited resources, isolation, and the prospect of living alone, communities like The Bird's Nest offer both financial relief and social connection.
The residents of The Bird's Nest don't seem to want to fly far from home. They've found something precious: independence without loneliness, affordability without sacrifice, companionship without losing autonomy.
"This is our final home," one resident says. "We won't be going back. We hope to keep each other company for as long as we can."
Robyn hopes others will replicate the model.
"I have encouraged others to just go for it," she says. "Quit saving that little bit of money and invest in a community. You will not get rich doing this, but it is a nice little cushion, and the sense of community is everything."
As America's population ages—with the number of people 65 and older projected to grow from 58 million in 2022 to 82 million by 2050—the need for affordable, community-based housing will only intensify.
Poverty and loneliness are both linked to shorter lifespans. Communities like The Bird's Nest offer a solution: mutual aid, shared resources, genuine connection.
At The Bird's Nest, women learn power tools to maintain their homes. They share meals around the fire pit. They celebrate birthdays together. They drive each other to appointments. They look after each other during illness.
They've created something that's becoming increasingly rare: a place where people know each other, support each other, and age together with dignity.
Robyn Yerian took $150,000 and transformed it into something money alone could never buy: a community where women who might otherwise face old age alone instead face it together.
Sometimes the best investment is not money.
It is connection, courage, and care.

02/24/2026

Send HELP! 🤣😂🤣

02/24/2026

02/23/2026

It's Great!

02/23/2026

🤣😂🤣

02/23/2026

Absolutely zero marine mammals, that regularly travel tens of hundreds of miles a day in the wild, should ever be imprisoned in a pool. EVER! CAPISCE???

During an authorized aquarium capture operation, a team netted a mother dolphin who was still traveling with her young calf. Staff believed the calf was mature enough to survive independently, but observers noted the mother showed visible distress after the separation. Reports described her refusing food and displaying restless behavior in captivity.

One night, the dolphin reportedly leapt over a high enclosure barrier and returned to the open sea. For weeks, her fate remained unknown. Later sightings from coastal observers suggested she had reunited with her calf, swimming together in open waters miles away from the original capture site.

The story drew widespread public attention and renewed discussion around marine wildlife management and capture practices. Advocacy groups emphasized the emotional bonds within dolphin pods and the importance of conservation-focused approaches. The incident became a powerful example of maternal instinct and the strong social connections found in marine mammals.

Source: Marine wildlife reports and conservation group coverage of the incident.

02/23/2026

Another full day at the farm! 5 babies disbudded, some Mom's let out of pens with babies to go explore, worked diligently with Relentless to get her up and doing physical therapy and enjoyed another hard days work. I'm grateful, tired and fulfilled. Happy Sunday everyone!

02/23/2026

Day 6 and my Love is happy and relaxing.

02/23/2026

Day 6, standing and swinging like a champ!❤️

Relentless!

02/23/2026

And she was swinging!

02/20/2026

Regenerative farmers steward the land allowing nature to thrive❤️

In 1972, a film crew found a woman living alone on a mountain farm with no electricity, no water, and no one who knew she existed. She'd been there for eleven years. She was 46 — but looked decades older.
Her name was Hannah Hauxwell.
She lived at Low Birk Hatt Farm — an 80-acre stone smallholding in Baldersdale, deep in the Pennine hills of northern England. One of the most remote, wind-battered, unforgiving places in the country.
No electricity. No running water. No telephone. No central heating. No indoor plumbing. Her water came from a stream two hundred yards away, carried in buckets. Her light came from oil lamps. Her heat came from a coal range.
She slept in an old army greatcoat to survive the winters.
Her entire income came from selling one cow each year at Barnard Castle market — roughly £250 to £280. At the time, the average salary in Britain was over £1,300. Hannah survived on less than a fifth of what most people earned.
Her diet was porridge, bread, and tea. Her bath was a cow pail. Her bread was delivered to a gate three fields away, and she walked through whatever weather awaited her to collect it.
And she had been living this way — completely alone — since 1961.
Hannah was born on August 1, 1926, in Baldersdale. Her parents, William and Lydia, bought Low Birk Hatt when she was three. But her father died when Hannah was just six years old, and her Uncle Tommy took over the running of the farm.
Hannah attended the local school until she was 14, then joined the family work. She never left.
When her mother died, followed by her uncle three years later, Hannah was 34 years old — unmarried, alone, and responsible for an isolated hill farm that barely produced enough to survive on.
She had no money to leave. No skills beyond farming. No connections outside the dale. So she stayed. And she worked. Year after year after year.
In summer 1972, a friend of a researcher at Yorkshire Television happened to encounter Hannah while walking in the Dales. Word reached producer Barry Cockcroft. He went to find her.
What he found stunned him.
A woman living in conditions that Britain assumed had vanished with the Victorian era — still existing, in total isolation, in 1972.
Cockcroft made a documentary. He called it Too Long a Winter.
It aired in early 1973. Britain's heart broke.
Viewers watched Hannah lead a cow through a blizzard in ragged clothing. They watched her break ice in water buckets. They heard her quiet, matter-of-fact voice describe her life without a trace of self-pity.
"In summer I live," she said. "And in winter I exist."
When asked what kept her going, she spoke about the view from her kitchen — the rolling dale stretching out beyond the iron gate. "It's one thing — if I haven't money in my pocket, it's one thing nobody can rob me of."
Yorkshire Television's phone lines were jammed for three days.
Hundreds of phone calls. Thousands of letters. Gifts, money, warm clothing from strangers who couldn't believe such poverty still existed in modern Britain. A local factory raised money to connect Low Birk Hatt to the electrical grid.
At age 46, Hannah Hauxwell saw electric light in her own home for the first time.
She was invited as a guest of honour to the Women of the Year gala at the London Savoy Hotel, where she met the Duchess of Gloucester. This woman who'd barely left her dale was suddenly standing in one of the most famous ballrooms in England.
But the farm was still there. The winters were still brutal. And Hannah was getting older.
By the late 1980s, her health was failing. The sub-zero winters she'd endured for decades were becoming impossible. In December 1988, at age 62, Hannah made the heartbreaking decision to sell Low Birk Hatt Farm.
"A big part of me, wherever I am, will be left here," she said.
The documentary crew returned one final time to film A Winter Too Many. It ended with Hannah and her remaining possessions leaving the farm in a removal lorry, towed by a tractor as the snow fell again.
She moved to a small cottage in the village of Cotherstone — five miles from the farm. It had central heating. Running water. An indoor bathroom.
Hannah admitted she was delighted with the bathroom. But she also confessed she never used the washing machine.
Some habits from a lifetime of self-reliance don't break easily.
Then something extraordinary happened. The woman who'd barely left her valley in 62 years began to travel.
In 1992, at age 65, Hannah Hauxwell left Britain for the first time. Cockcroft filmed her grand tour of Europe — France, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and Italy.
In Rome, she met the Pope.
The series was so popular that the following year, she traveled to America, filmed as Hannah: USA. In New York, she reportedly observed: "I thought they would be more civilised and know how to make tea properly."
Meanwhile, the farm she'd left behind produced one final gift.
Because Hannah had never used modern pesticides, never re-seeded her fields, and never applied artificial fertilizers, her meadows had quietly become one of the best-preserved wildflower habitats in the Pennines. Rare species flourished in the soil she'd worked by hand for decades.
Her land was designated a Site of Special Scientific Interest. It was renamed Hannah's Meadows, and is now managed by the Durham Wildlife Trust.
Her poverty had accidentally created an ecological treasure.
Hannah spent her later years in Cotherstone, living frugally — still mending her clothes by hand, still repairing her mattress rather than buying a new one, still listening to the news on the radio and talking passionately about world events.
She moved to a care home in Barnard Castle in 2016, and to a nursing home in West Auckland in 2017.
Hannah Hauxwell died on January 30, 2018. She was 91.
She was buried at Romaldkirk Cemetery, not far from Low Birk Hatt. Her gravestone is a modest boulder with a carved face looking out toward the Dales — often adorned with flowers from people who never met her but never forgot her.
Hannah didn't choose her life. She inherited it. She endured it because there was no alternative. And when the world finally found her, she accepted help with quiet grace — but never pretended it had been anything other than what it was.
Hard. Lonely. And somehow, still beautiful.
"It's one thing nobody can rob me of," she said about her view from the kitchen window.
The view is still there.
And so is Hannah's story — reminding us that dignity needs nothing but itself.

02/20/2026

Thursday and Relentless continues to improve. She was taking an ounce per feeding and there was you could hear her swallow was weak and took a while to go down. Now she is taking 3 ounces and those weird sounds are decreasing. She is more vocal and is stronger on her legs. Still so very hopeful.