Farm Soul

Ever since we bought this old farm, I’ve wondered about its “Heart and Soul.”

I’ve looked and I’ve listened.

I’ve wanted to find it so we can be true to it. The farm was in the same family for 150 years before we had the honor of becoming the new stewards and care-givers. The house provided shelter and warmth for many generations of children; the land provided food and income. We want to do it right. We want to honor its heart and its soul. I think we’ve done that with the house; now it’s time to figure it out with the land.

Oh, this?

This is my crazy angel baby.

There is no reason whatsoever for his photo here.

I just took this pic and when I uploaded it and saw all that soft fuzzy neck fur, I thought you might want to kiss him. Yes, go ahead. It’s as soft as it looks. kiss, kiss, kiss.

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The Snow Lady

Out of the bosom of the Air,

Out of the cloud-

folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

Over the harvest-

fields forsaken,

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

and then I smile.

Yes! I build a fire. I make soup and bread and cookies and hot chocolate and I smile. Because I AM the snow lady.

If you’ve hung out with me for any period of time, you know how much I LOVE winter weather and snow. And, usually, after I make that particular proclamation someone will casually ask me, “Now how many winters have you spent with snow?” And I stammer and say, “Many… but they have all been inside my head.”

You see, outside of my head, in reality, that number is zero.


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