When They Come

Sunday morning sunshine feels different than any other light.  It’s more robust, more golden, more open, somehow.  And right now, the farm is fairly glowing with it. If I’d ever been to Ireland and stood overlooking a range of hills in the early morning,...

The Chronicles of a Worried “Mama”

It’s cold here today. Really cold, and last night it was in the 20s. In anticipation of last night’s hard freeze, Philip and I spent an hour lowering the heat lamps in the brooder, and he humored me as I convinced myself that putting thin pieces of...