Saturday, October 10, 2026

The doll carriage I played with as a child was made of real, woven wicker painted white, with a bonnet that swiveled to either head or foot.

Of the many memories I have of Christmas on the farm, I don't have a single memory of ever telling Santa what I wanted for Christmas.

I don't know how or why and it hardly seems possible, yet I have undeniable proof that it is. My entire life just goes right ahead and falls apart if my husband leaves the state.

As we round out the year, I would like take a trip to the variety store to share two special retirements and information on two Ohio State University Extension courses to be offered in the new year.

Twice, in early December, when glowering clouds veiled the skies so thickly that nothing was visible, I heard their song.

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.

Last week, I had never heard of John Christy. This week, he's my hero. Christy is the director of the

I'm not sure now whether I got her for Christmas. She may have been a birthday gift. The sentiment is the same.

Some are born to greatness. Some rise to greatness. And some just want to get their dog out of the swimming pool.

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