She’s in Iceland, author Pam Houston, sharing pictures of Icelandic horses she’s ridden at high speeds through weather, including pelting ice. I am awed by her bravery because horses can…
Sometime in the middle of May, our hay field billows with grass and clover and dandelions. Bruce traipsed to the bottom of the field and sprayed thistles, what our county…
Back in the day, prophets wore animal skins, ate locusts and honey, stood by rivers, cried, “Repent!” These days, Donald Trump calls us to repentance. After all, hasn’t he risen…
In the days before we cut our hay I remembered how I used to run into our hayfields and flop down looking at the clouds and hay towering over me….
A couple weeks ago, the farm came alive with men at work. It’s not every week we have two different crews working our land at once. Beaux our hay guy,…
This whole “love your neighbor” business isn’t as easy as it looks, because it’s easy to hurt people’s feelings — even easier for our feelings to be hurt. I have…
One summer we harvested a gorgeous crop of grass hay. We counted 334 bales, a year’s supply but I told a friend I’d sell her some if there was extra….
Friday July 18, 2014 – Sunday July 20, 2014 It’s been a long summer waiting to drop our hay, waiting for four days straight of dry weather, and every week,…