Saturday, June 25, 2016

I'm too busy. We'll start after the corn is planted and the hay is made. We tried them before and they didn't work.

The deeper the joy, the more devastating the heartbreak. The journey across this life brings a mixture of both and somehow we must be strong enough to hold it all.

A rap on my kitchen door told me that our neighbor Zoe was outside. She's developed a bold, persistent knock, probably because there is such a delay before one of us answers.

(Note: Editor Susan Crowell is traveling with an agricultural trade mission to Israel. This is her first report, filed after arriving in Tel Aviv.

Applying fertilizers to hay and pasture fields to stimulate plant growth will generally increase yields substantially.

Joy is found in simple moments if our eyes and our hearts are open. Today, from the back porch of what will soon be our new home, I watched nine deer amble across the hay field, just about 75 yards from where I stood, only the white board fence separating us.

It is almost spring and the first specks of bold, new colors are sprouting among us. No, not spring flowers silly.

When March arrives like a lamb, the old saying goes, it roars out like a lion. How then will the 2006 growing season finish if current numbers, courtesy of the USDA, show it hobbling out of the gate on weak knees and a bent back? Six months, of course, will tell the tale, but February USDA figures begin it with some opening lines that are grim - Brothers Grimm grim.

A few weeks ago, my eighth grader casually mentioned that she was one of two representatives from her classroom in the school spelling bee.

I awoke, slightly bleary-eyed from not nearly enough sleep, and headed for the kitchen one morning last week.
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