I often dreamed that once I packed my youngest child off to kindergarten, I would be free to indulge in some “me” time and become one of the much heralded “ladies who lunch.
Two fact-laden summer reports on animal agriculture nearly mirror each other on the woe faced by many American dairy, cattle and hog producers.
I have a new name.
I haven’t heard it here at work (yet), but I hear it nonstop at home.
One day, I turned on my cellular phone and there it was, staring at me for just a second before the system booted up: Freak.
The World Agricultural Forum, 2004 Regional Congress was held in St. Louis, Mo., from May 16-18.
The forum featured presentations and discussions by some of the most influential stakeholders in global agriculture and food production.
In the late ’60s, maybe early ’70s, one of my dad’s cousins fixed up an old, historic home. His wife, Merry, made a second floor bedroom into a laundry room, and I remember listening to discussion among women in the family.
“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.