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I live on a farm ... — blogging

Home again, home again, jiggity jig jig

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When I was a child, my family lived on a dead-end gravel road off of Independence Highway, some miles outside of Charlotte, North Carolina.  Our little street was situated by a stand of woods that I spent many, many happy hours in playing alone in the trees and running barefoot on a thick woodland carpet of pine needles and brown leaves.  Our house was a two-story red brick on about a half an acre of land (as best I can recall).  We had a stand of pines running at an angle in our backyard where my mother had a clothes...

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Decisions, decisions

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I am still in California, getting my belongings organizerd for shipment: hardwork,, long hours, and today it got up to about a hundred degrees in LA. Smog burned my eyes. Traffic crowded the streets. However, the city moved along pretty smoothly, and regardless of the crowded streets and high degrees, I am accomplishing quite a bit each day. There are many decisions to be made about what to keep and what not to keep. If I were moving within the LA area, I'd keep everything I had in storage. It was already the clarified version of my material life, broken...

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The Pike's Peak Promise

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We have had a busy couple of weeks here, beginning with Memorial Day weekend. The lawns have needed mowing two or three times, my husband designed and engineered a pergola for some gourds my sister-in-law and her husband wanted to grow up at our place, we had that to build, the gourds to plant, and some geraniums to put out in pots around the place as well. Then, of course, we have quite a few other routine responsibilities to take care of: earning a living, Blu to love and care for, duties at Church, chipping in at Habitat for Humanity,...

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