This isn’t my wisteria, although I wish it did belong to me.  Lovely and fragrant, this dramatic display of blossoms disguises a signpost and some less than attractive cable supports for a telephone pole.  The vine clearly is well-tended and someone prunes it regularly. I hope to someday meet the gardener who tends this wisteria
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It’s a day to celebrate mothers and grandmothers and those who’ve simply mothered us even though they weren’t the ones who brought us into this world.  I think, too, that it’s a good day to recall the joys that come to those of us who play that role in one way or another. Here at the
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I can’t walk through the orchard without stopping once or twice to check a broken twig, a curled leaf or some other little thing I’ve noticed.  I like
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Sometimes when I’ve had a tough day, my daughter makes me a Rich Crusty Apple Pie to cheer me up. Pie makes most things better. If it’s been a really, really, REALLY tough day, she makes Dark Chocolate Volcano Cakes.   Sinfully rich, not too sweet, with a soft goey center, they’re incredibly delectable served warm
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With dozens of ducks running around, you’d think we’d be so over them. I thought I was over them, but this new hatchling changed my mind.

Have you ever seen anything so cute?

Finally, after weeks of being penned, the geese and their goslings have earned a few hours of limited yard duty.  They didn’t exactly go running out when the barn door swung open though.  Nope, Queen Ingrid  stretched out her neck, looked all around and checked for hazards. Once Ingrid decided the sunlit barnyard contained no imminent threats,
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Sometimes the view out the truck window seems a little off kilter. Other times, it’s so enticing I’m tempted to park the truck by the ditch, slip through the fence, and walk over the hill just to see what’s on the other side.   There could be more wildflowers, a picturesque lake, or . . .
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The nesting turkey hens occasionally fluff nesting materials over the eggs so they can slip out into the barnyard for a few minutes to stretch their legs, get a drink of water, maybe snack on some corn. One pretty young turkey hen, walking alone, attracts a lot of attention from the the gang of guys loitering
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Farm chores are messier on rainy days.  There’s the mud.  There’s the wet underbrush you have to run through and the rising creek you wade through while chasing escaped calves back through the hole in the fence.  You get soaked to the knees if you’re lucky, and to the waist if you’re not.  Eight or ten hours later,
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Old fences of hedge posts and rusted barbed wire mark some of the pasture boundaries here at the farm.  We have newer fences, too, some with metal posts and wire that’s maybe a decade old.  Others have been repaired and partly replaced as needed through the years, as is common on farms like this in
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