Sunday, March 29, 2026

When I write about my life, people actually ask, with a straight face, if I make things up. When you learn about my people - my family - you soon realize that embellishment is rarely necessary.

It seems a shame to begin thinking of Christmas before Thanksgiving has come and gone, but that is just what I've done for more years now than I care to keep track of.

It may seem a long way off, especially as you are managing the fall harvest, but winter will be here before we know it and along with it comes a variety of outstanding Extension workshops and educational seminars to help you be a better dairy producer.

In these very troubled times - national troubles, global troubles, financial troubles, violence troubles, climate and weather troubles, energy troubles, war troubles, strike troubles, health troubles, ad infinitum - there are many families who will surely have trouble being thankful this Thanksgiving Day.

I am a soccer mom and I am OK with that.

We often feel nostalgic and take time for reflection at holiday time. I hope you'll take some time for this poem.

Despite Thanksgiving's late November arrival, neither we nor the neighbors of the southern Illinois farm of my youth were done with harvest by the harvest holiday.

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.

A good friend's father had a quadruple bypass two weeks ago. It's been a stressful, uncertain time for their family, but his health outlook is strong.

There is a common misconception among amateur parents and people who have never raised children (but curiously always seem to know an awful lot about how other people should raise theirs) that boys and girls behave differently due only to parental programming and societal propaganda.