I found a poem that Mom and I wrote a few years ago.
FINDING HOME
Home isn’t just a place or a location.
It’s a feeling, a memory, a sound, sometimes a smell.
It can be someone you know …
I found a poem that Mom and I wrote a few years ago.
FINDING HOME
Home isn’t just a place or a location.
It’s a feeling, a memory, a sound, sometimes a smell.
It can be someone you know …
An’ all us children, when the supper things was done, we ran to the story tree to dream who we’d become.
I have something to admit. I’m a picky eater. But it isn’t junk food I crave, it’s things that aren’t …
Okay, I went along with how to avoid blemishes. Timeless advice really—exercise, preferably outdoors, in addition to treating your organs kindly (they have to filter gunk you eat just like an oil filter in a car), but …
In addition to new momma Maizy, who is providing us with fresh milk, we have even more new arrivals to the farm. Emma and Bo Jangles, or Em and Bo (mother and son), are Jerseys who arrived at the farm yesterday looking as dapper and adorable as ever.
Mom is a dark fawn Jersey. Bo will most likely darken with age. What a stout little buckaroo!