Saturday, September 5, 2026

As the leaves start turning and the nights get colder, our usual crops of orchardgrass, ryegrass and alfalfa begin to winterize.

(NOTE: Below is the second of a two columns on a now-collapsing, multimillion-dollar farmer-owned cooperative.

I know this is a column about life and all the funny little things that can happen when living it. I hope you generally enjoy it.

Have you ever noticed how weeds come and go over the years? I recall the summer of the battle of Queen Anne's Lace.

Decisions! Decisions! Which of more than a dozen jottings gets the lead paragraph for this column? And suddenly, Mother Nature makes the decision with a dazzling offering on the sunny last day of summer as a friend and I admired the just-mowed pasture.

My voice echoed in my daughter's half-empty room when I called out to Mark, "Yes, I think we've packed everything.

NOTE: Below is the first of a two columns on a now-collapsing, multimillion-dollar farmer-owned cooperative.

I am the mother I warned myself about. In all those blissful early years of having children (babies, really), I had big plans to do very little.

When my son was just a little shaver, he came home from school one day, his big blue eyes sparkling, and said, "Mom, I have a new best friend! Can I invite my friend to come and stay overnight?" Cort knew about overnight visits from his older cousins, who always had extra kids around, their homes filled with fun and games and laughter.

The four-color photo on the front page of the local daily paper immediately caught my eye, but not with a reaction the editors desired.