Donate To Hays Manor
Most small farms today don’t pay for themselves. The old idea — a few cows in the field, a garden out back, and somehow the land covers the bills — doesn’t line up with reality anymore. According to the USDA, nearly 90% of small farms rely on off-farm income to keep the lights on.
At Hays Manor, we knew that reality going in. We’re only in year three of building our farmstead, and it hasn’t paid for itself yet. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. What we have is a vision, and the belief — backed by numbers, partnerships, and patience — that one day it can. And even if it never balances out to the penny, the dream itself has already been worth it. The time spent at markets, the books we’ve written, the culture we’ve passed along — those things pay in ways money never could.
This is our story of how we’re building toward that vision — and how you might shape your own.
Every farm that lasts begins with a dream. But not every dream is equal. If your vision is only “raise some cattle” or “plant some crops,” the reality of expenses will hit hard. You need a dream that stretches beyond the field — one tied to who you are, where you come from, and what you want to leave behind.
For us, that dream was about family and culture. We wanted a place where our seven sons and their children could gather. We wanted bees buzzing in the fields, Highlands grazing in shaded pastures, a meadery that carried our legacy and heritage, food pulled straight from the farm, falcons and hawks in the air, and books on shelves that told our story.
That dream has been our compass. Every decision — from what land to buy to what animals to raise — was checked against it. Would this bring us closer to building a farmstead of family and culture? If the answer was no, we didn’t chase it.
We don’t know yet if this dream will one day “pay for itself” in strict financial terms. But we do know this: it has already paid in the richness of life, in the stories we share, and in the heritage we’re building for the next generation.
Once you know your dream, the next step is finding land that can hold it. Too many people chase acreage without thinking about what those acres actually give them. We chose seven acres — not for size, but for fit.
The property was mostly forested. To some, that was a weakness. To us, it was shade for cattle, forage for goats, and a landscape that matched our climate. The trees weren’t in the way — they were an asset.
The key feature was the spring. I can still picture the first time I saw it, bubbling clear on a cold day in the fall. That water became the heart of our meadery, the lifeblood of our livestock, and the assurance that the land could support our dream.
We haven’t turned that water into bottled income yet, and maybe we never will. But having it means we can brew, clean, and raise animals without the fear of running dry. That security is part of how we believe this farm will one day sustain itself.
Patience is one of the most valuable resources a farmer can have. We knew from the beginning that Hays Manor had to grow in stages.
In the first year, we didn’t even start the meadery. We tested the spring, built barns and fences, and waited for our first honey harvest. Only when those foundations were set did we move forward.
That patience gave us breathing room. It let us learn the land, make small mistakes, and avoid big ones. It also gave us time to grow into our vision, instead of rushing ahead of it.
Now, in year three, we’re still building in stages. The meadery is running, the barn is half finished, and the greenhouse is scheduled to go up in the spring. The livestock are growing, but pigs are still in the future. We’re not there yet — but each step brings us closer.
📊 Did You Know? U.S. honey prices averaged $2.54 per pound in 2023 (USDA NASS). Mead batches can easily require several hundred pounds, making strong sourcing partnerships vital.
Cattle are central to many farms, but not all cattle are equal. We chose Highland cattle because they offered both heritage and economics.
Where a standard beef calf might fetch $800–$1,200, a Highland calf can sell for $2,000–$3,000. Registered breeding cows can reach $5,000–$15,000. For a small farm, those differences matter. One sale can fund a fence, a barn addition, or a batch of mead.
But the Highlands also carried our culture. Their shaggy coats and long horns made them part of the story we wanted to tell. When people see them here, they see more than cows — they see a farm tied to Scottish heritage.
Of course, Highlands weren’t bred for Texas summers. We had to plan for that, designing one pasture in full sun and another in shade. That balance is what keeps them healthy here.
Will Highland cattle alone make the farm profitable? No. But they’re one piece of a system that, together, we believe can.
Standard beef calf: ~$800–$1,200
Highland calf: $2,000–$3,000 (often higher for registered stock)
Breeding cow: $5,000–$15,000
For a small farm, every head has to matter. Highlands gave us both cultural value and a better financial return.
Raw goods rarely pay the bills. You have to turn them into something more. For us, that anchor was mead.
Mead gave us a way to take honey and fruit and transform them into something people could share — a drink rooted in heritage and story. By the time we launched Vinland Meads, we weren’t experimenting. Clyde had already perfected recipes through years of brewing, drawing on knowledge his grandfather had passed down. That tradition gave us both confidence and a foundation to scale.
And scale we did. We didn’t start small. We began with three 110-gallon tanks — a total of 330 gallons per run. Each batch at that size can swallow more than 600 pounds of honey. With our own hives producing only 60–80 pounds a year, it was immediately clear we couldn’t supply the meadery on Hays Manor alone.
That’s why we built partnerships with other Texas beekeepers who raise honey the way we do — raw, unfiltered, true to the land. It kept the mead authentic while giving us the supply we needed.
We believe mead will one day be the cornerstone of making Hays Manor sustainable. Today, it’s still building momentum. But every bottle poured at a festival or farmers market brings us closer.
No farm survives on one product. We’ve learned to use every piece of the dream.
Our greenhouse will grows herbs and botanicals. They don’t just flavor mead; they flavor meals. Quail, chickens, goats, and soon pigs give us eggs, meat, and variety for farm-to-table food. Farmers markets and festivals give us face-to-face connection, and days like the Ben Wheeler Hog Fest have proven that community events can rival months of sales.
Even byproducts matter. From the wax of our hives, we built Heathen Beard Company, turning waste into balm and oil. That’s another income stream, another tie-in to the bees, another way to keep the farm afloat.
Have these ventures paid for the farm yet? Not yet. But together they form the patchwork that makes us believe they will.
📊 Did You Know? Direct-to-consumer sales (farmers markets, CSAs, etc.) account for only 3% of total U.S. farm sales — but for small farms, that percentage is often their lifeline.
Some of the most valuable things we do don’t bring in money directly. Falconry demonstrations. Children’s books. Cultural storytelling. These aren’t “revenue streams” — but they are what people remember.
When kids see a hawk up close, they don’t forget. When families read about Alana Faye the Highland calf, they connect to our farm in a way no brochure could. Those cultural pieces carry our story further than marketing ever could.
Culture also adds weight to our products. Mead tastes better when it’s tied to heritage. Food feels richer when it’s part of a story. Beard balm becomes more than a product when it comes from your own bees.
We believe culture is one of the strongest ways to make a farm pay for itself — not in dollars, but in loyalty, memory, and story. And those are the things that sustain a farm through hard seasons.
Above all, Hays Manor is about family. Every hive, every pasture, every bottle of mead ties to our family, cousins, aunts and uncles, and back to our seven sons and the grandchildren we hope to see playing here.
We built this place for them — a home to return to, a farmstead where chickens run in the yard and heritage is something lived, not just told. That’s why every decision we make filters through family.
The farm hasn’t paid for itself yet. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t. But even now, it has already paid in the memories we’re making. It has paid in time spent at markets, in stories we’ve written, in hawks flown, in books read written.
If the ledger never balances perfectly, that won’t make the dream a failure. Because the real goal isn’t just income — it’s legacy.
📊 Did You Know? Only 30% of family farms survive into the second generation, and just 12% into the third. The difference often comes down to legacy planning and family involvement.
If you want your farm to pay for itself, don’t expect it to look like the farms of old. Don’t expect cattle and crops alone to cover the bills.
Instead, build in stages. Anchor yourself in value-added products. Diversify into multiple income streams. Partner with others. Lean into your culture. And above all, keep family at the center.
That’s what we’re doing at Hays Manor. Will it ever truly pay for itself? That’s our belief, and the numbers show it can. But even if it doesn’t, the dream has already been worth it — in the work, the story, and the heritage we’re passing on.
That’s our vision of the new farmstead. And it’s one worth raising a horn to.
That’s how we will make a farm pay for itself.
Clyde & Sarah Hays, Hays Manor, Murchison Texas - 2025