From My Front Porch Swing

Every two or three weeks, I load up our car with six thirty-pound boxes of our organic blueberries and drive…

The other night as I read EAGER, a fantastic book about beavers, the whir of helicopter blades floated through my…

The daffodils are blooming across the farm, the Great Blue Herons are nesting in our far back pond where the…

The sugar shed is quiet. No steam billowing from the cupula, no roaring fire beneath the evaporator, and the scent…

During a conversation with a friend, she declared that pancakes were not a nutritious option for breakfast. While I would…

A west wind is blasting the snow across our fields and roaring through the trees around our house. This time…

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