When the Farm Cavalry Rolls In

Historically, I expect soldiers in battle felt even more elation than I did on Saturday morning . . . but my emotions were best summed up by the phrase, “And then the cavalry rolled in.”  Except there were no horses, just weedeaters, chain saws, and 5...

Sunset Flowers

A perfect valley. Nestled between two ridge lines.  As if a glacier had once lived there.  That’s where we are getting our flowers for the wedding. Last night, Philip and I drove out to Blue Heron Farm to meet with Bev Lacy, the flower farmer.  She strolled over...

Not Yet a Year, And Yet . . .

It has not yet been a year that I’ve lived here.  Not yet a year of waking up in the farmhouse’s largest room.  Not yet a year of living with only one drawer in the kitchen. Not yet a year of Meander waking in the night and having to check for a skunk...

Look What I Found – Surprises in the Work

One bed. Of the three, just one. That was my task – to weed that one bed.  I started with the easiest – a third full of gourds just now going green, climbing the fence, threatening to make it to the chicken coop by the time their stems dry in September’s last warm...