Quimby Farm is nestled among the rolling hills of the Hudson Valley. The barn, over a century old, overlooks the lush acreage of the heritage farm, beloved for its berries, grapes and beef. The business, run by the Quimby family for 85 years and counting, is modest but self-sustaining; a way of life might be a better way of describing the work of running Quimby Farm.

Currently, it’s being run by its third generation, who are discovering how farming the family land can become a life’s passion.

For most of its history, Quimby Farm was run by Howard Quimby, who worked the land until the end of his life. Growing up, he and his brothers all worked on the farm, but no one loved it as much as Howard. So it was he and his wife Phoebe who took over operations as they raised a family of their own. He never seemed to see himself aging out of farming.

In his later years, it wasn’t clear what would become of the place after him. Howard never pressured any of his daughters to take over the farm. While farming was his calling, he knew it may not be theirs. But after his death, when it came down to it, they didn’t have the heart to let it go.

Diana and her husband Shawn, who learned the ropes by helping his father-in-law, describes himself as an “accidental farmer.” At the time, their two daughters were in college, but now Abigail and Emily have both found their way back.

“We feel so lucky to have something we want to come back to,” Emily said. Not everyone is delighted to work closely with their parents, but the folks of Quimby Farm are happy to be exceptions.

“The four of us hold down the fort,” said Abigail. “The family is the soul of our farm.”

Keeping their business close quarters is part of their success. The farm is a small-scale endeavor that is part of the family income but is relieved of the pressure to cover everyone’s bases.

“We’ve kept it smaller by design,” Abigail said. During grape season, they might hire a few extra hands, but the operation is designed for the four of them. Though they deliver to some regulars locally, most of their sales come from the weekly Marlborough Farmers Market, selling whatever’s fresh alongside Diana’s homemade jams. Each season has its own focus, from blackberries to grapes, and then for the rest of the year it’s all about beef.

Abigail started working with their cows in high school, when she and her dad would bottle-feed calves – a tradition that continues. Since the number of cows rarely exceeds 20, they can really focus on fine tuning their process.

“Our whole thing with the beef is sustainability,” she said, a strategy that hinges on close collaboration with neighboring operations. Their cows, usually a mix of Brown Swiss and Guernsey, come from Stormfield Swiss Farm, a dairy across the river.

“Since they’re a dairy farm, they’d normally send the bulls to auction,” Abby explained. “We’re taking animals that are a burden on dairy farms and might be auctioned to a not-so-great place.”

Whatever might have become of them otherwise, there’s no question that Quimby cows are happy cows. In addition to the lush pasture and hay from the property, the Quimbys get creative when it comes to feed. The cows get vegetable scraps of every variety and distillers’ grain and crushed cider apples from a local brewery. When Halloween rolls around, the cows have as much reason to get excited as the kids.

“We find local farmers with pumpkins that don’t sell – the cows love them,” Abigail said. “And our farm friends love it. If you have a pumpkin you carved, you can drop it on the farm.”

Their conviction that happy cows make the best beef is confirmed by their loyal local following. The prices reflect the quality of care but are kept low enough so their community can afford it. “We believe in eating local,” Abigail added.

Their customers are mostly long-term Marlboro residents, though they sell plenty to the part-timers that go between Hudson Valley and New York City. There was never a temptation to upscale at the expense of their community. As Diana puts it, “it’s not always about the money – it’s about being happy.”

The farm is a fixture for many Marlboro residents, and Howard is a local legend. One customer recalled how Howard would take his family in a horse-drawn sleigh when the roads were snowed over. Others remember him showing them farm life as children.

“There isn’t a single farmers market when people don’t come up and say ‘Oh, I remember your grandpa,’” Abigail said, and she’s right there with them. Walking in Howard’s footsteps is one of her favorite parts of the job. “There’s so much nostalgia, looking everywhere and knowing that’s where my grandpa has been.”

Emily, who more recently joined her sister in farm operations, agrees. The sisters love to see how their farm is enmeshed with their customers’ lives. During grape season, coming to pick grapes is a longstanding tradition for many.

“We have customers who have been coming up to pick for the last 60 years, and now it’s the next generation,” Emily said. “It’s that human connection and the community part – we feel so appreciated, and appreciative to want to be in the place we grew up.”

Emily admitted that when she was younger, she didn’t always appreciate summers on the farm. After college she struck out on her own and tried life out West for a while, but she found she was a farm girl wherever she went.

“I was doing gardening and nutrition in California, and my dad said ‘You have a family farm – why not do that work here?’” She saw his point, and is glad to have done exactly that. “I know how lucky we are to get to spend every day outside, connected to nature in a way most people aren’t. It gives you a different respect for food and the workers – the world turning.”

Both sisters are grateful to have partners who support the family addiction. Farming doesn’t have an off-button. “We have late nights, early mornings, no days off in summers and cows that need what they need when they need it,” said Abigail.

And then there’s the unpredictability of nature itself, as Emily pointed out. “You are at the mercy of Mother Nature, especially with the changing world that we’re in now – it’s a gamble. Our 80-year-old farm has no [special] infrastructure. When it hasn’t rained, there’s nothing we can do. We just have to pray that things are going to work out.”

So far, they seem to be. Nature may be wily, but the Quimbys have each other, and plenty more besides. Quimby Farms is too embedded in Marlboro to be left to fend for itself.

As Abigail said, “We have a support network. These people care about us. Our community wants us to keep doing what we’re doing.”

Learn more at quimbyfarmmarlboro.com.