“I have finally figured out what is wrong with everything. There is too much of it. I mean by that that there is too much of every single thing that one could possibly want or need except time, money, good plumbers, and people who say thank you when you hold open a door for them.
I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me at once. Recently, my electronic planner froze up, causing me lose track of every appointment, assignment, and crucial coffee date I may have scheduled for the next six weeks.
Before rural America loses an eye to campaign mudballs, election year slime and rose-colored lies, let’s go where farm and ranch voters rarely venture.
Cool night air, lingering now at dawn, drifts through the open windows of the house. We want to huddle under covers and stay in our warm beds, but not today – a school day.
The swirling hurricane season keeps pounding away, and everyone I’ve talked to in recent days is concerned about friends and family living in the southeast.
The most dedicated servant is always the last to see the layoff coming.
One minute, you think you have the utmost in job security.
The most important election in farm country this fall won’t be in presidential swing states like Iowa and Wisconsin nor will it involve mad cows, angry Brazilians or even promise-spewing, glad-handing politicians.
As November’s election nears, U.S. presidential candidates are criss-crossing the country to woo rural America, particularly Ohio.
My feet splashed through the couple inches of water that covered our basement concrete. Where should I start to clean up? The narrow path through the stuff piled everywhere overwhelmed me.
“Some days, we would simply walk the fields and stroll the woods just for enjoyment. It seemed we didn’t really need a good reason, but sometimes we would offer to check the north fence or insist upon checking to see if the latest storm knocked any trees about in the back woods.