At one time years ago, my husband and his family raised tobacco on our farm. That’s a long ago memory, but we now let a neighbor use one of our old barns to hang and cure his burley tobacco – or ‘bacca as a lot call it. 😉 This morning as I was driving back from checking on…

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  CLICK BELOW TO LISTEN: As I white-knuckle gripped the tractor wheel crawling down the muddy trail from a hay field (in the worst of places) to haul bales to the trailer for loading, I thought how farming really isn’t for the faint of heart. And then I laughed, because I’m the most faint of heart…

  LISTEN BY CLICKING BELOW: If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it (or at least thought it) a thousand times. This motherhood gig is hard. It’s tiring and trying. It’s long days and sometimes longer nights. It’s worry-filled as much as it’s wonder-ful. There are times when the weight of it comes to bear. And there…

There is always more to do on the farm than there are hours in the day to do it. Something broken needing fixing. Something hungry needing feeding. Something growing needing mowing. Something tattered needing mending. And sometimes that includes family time that has a way of falling to the bottom of the list. Right now we…

I wrote these words last fall over here, but I needed them today and I want them in this space…maybe someone else needs them, too. Listen By Clicking Below: It’s harvest time on the farm – and it’s been a long time coming. The preparation has seemed to be as never-ending as the ninety degree…

Listen by clicking below (ignoring my scratchy, still-cold-fighting voice)… I’m pretty sure my face is plastered right next to the definition of oxymoron in Webster’s. If not, it should be. And somedays it would be found next to the word minus the “oxy.” I own that. I wrote this little “oxymoronic” bio on my site a…

At our house, bedtime is a religious experience. As in it can often cause me to lose my religion. I guess I should have seen the warning signs before becoming a parent, because I remember my own parents having to stealth-crawl out of my bedroom when I was a child. I didn’t want them to…

By the time Friday night rolls around, my brain is usually as fried as my body after a week of trying to figure out what to cook for the same people at the same time every day. Thus enters #fridaynightpizzanight. Whoever invented it should be given a Nobel Prize. Or at least a “noble prize” from…