Standing at the fence, enjoying a rare day of sunshine in January here on our farm, I watched our dog Channing circling the pasture in a sweeping motion and wondered what she was up to now.

A house may sometimes be more than just a home, but a tangible part of history. The house in which

One man’s junk really is someone else’s treasure. I thought of my sister the very first time I heard that statement.

Life on dairy farms in the 1970s proved to be a very good time, indeed. I was too young to know it, but I recall the feeling that things were going well.

Not all gifts come wrapped in ribbons and bows. There is no gift like peace of mind for those who are embattled and bone-tired.

If there were a way I could grant a Christmas gift to each and every Farm and Dairy reader this holiday season, it would be a copy of Roger Welsch’s book on relationships.

Life is filled with questions, sometimes with answers, sometimes with just a tinge of regret for what might have been.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy and girl who loved sitting on their mama’s lap and reading picture books.

I find it amazing, time and time again, how much the world is turning back around to the way it used to be long, long ago.

Writer Sue Hubbell, a fiercely independent beekeeper who makes her living all alone on her land in the Ozarks, had to be convinced that she had a memoir worth writing.