Our morning began as many Mondays often do; with heaps of dishes, dirty floors, and laundry scattered everywhere. A cow and goats to milk, breakfast to make, and chickens anxiously awaiting their freedom. As usual, Stewart heads out the door with the milk pail while I begin breakfast and coax the rest of the chore…
There is no denying the passing of time when one is a Mama. Days turn to years and years into a childhood and suddenly our firstborn is up to my chin. The girls used to love helping me carry slop out to the hogs. I say used to because the hogs have been gone for…
Mornings begin with Mabel, her big brown eyes pushing us out of slumber and into the barn to fill her feed box. I heat up water, take a few sips of coffee, grab Joshie, and hand Stewart the milking supplies as he heads out the door. We fill her feed box and give Stan some…
As is usually the case, I headed to the garden about an hour before dusk last night with my two littlest buddies. They thrive in dirt, on dirt, and with dirt so I no longer fight the barefooted tendencies, at least not in the garden. We picked black-eyed peas and watched bees pollinate the cucumbers…
