sweet moments

How often I wish I could capture those times in life, put them in their

own sweet box, under their very own cloche.  A morning with wrens

singing outside, kittens napping here & there, quiet except for nature,

and time for reflection.  Sweet, precious moments...

ever more

This is the country road I travel from our farm to my office in Eau Claire.
I have grown to cherish the fields I pass, the barns, the woods...

They are all part of my Township of Otter Creek, and they speak

to me the quiet language of rural life.  There is such a purity in their words.

Even the bales of hay repeat, "live gently on this earth".

And so soon I will sit at the table in our one room town hall, a member of a 

Land Use Committee...and I will help to put the words on paper to

protect this land, to save it for farming for generations to come.  

Although I arrived later in life to this countryside, I believe it had

called to me.  I hope I can find the right words to protect her, to 

sanctify her beauty, to keep her rural roots.  

the tale of a coyote & a mother tiger

If you look...slightly to the right of our farmhouse, right there in the driveway, you will see my Whisper Annie heading back to the barn. This was the day Matt & Caroline visited and they photographed my little 6 year old barn cat ~~ mostly because she was just so friendly.  She was my oldest kitten born on our farm...outliving the 5 year average mortality rate for female barn cats (males only average several years).   She was a sweet, independent girl - princess at this farm.  She often spent nights on our porch, one of only two outdoor cats allowed on.  We had debated bringing her in after our boy cats passed away, but knew she would fight with Rosie...and knew she would crave her freedom.  So, we took our chances.  Two days after this picture was taken in mid-June, she disappeared, without a trace, just gone.

But the wren knew, she chattered near the corn crib, telling us tales of alarm.  Our minds traveled to so many possibilities, but in the end, we guessed it was the work of a coyote...the wren told us as much as she danced over droppings in the yard.  And Tuesday, as I watered plants, again I found droppings.  So coyote ~~  I venture to share that you may have met your match ~ when you mess with "my flock" ~ you mess with me.  Lights were lit about the farm last night...and we also learned that coyotes dislike talk radio (of course they do-such are the analogies of life).....so we broadcast WPR all night from our deck.  We have a new fence around our pasture and a hunting rifle at the ready.  

This may have started with a whisper, but it will end with fury.  

I do not have patience for such evil.

for the love of...

Happy 4th of July!