I think the season might have changed from spring to summer while I wasn't looking. A quiet breath of change that happened maybe while I was grading. Or shearing. Or mourning. Collectively, a lot
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I have thirteen open tabs in Chrome. One is a YouTube video on body language that I want my students to watch before they start job interviews upon graduation. We talk a lot about body language
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I was cleaning my third to last stall of the night, the one where my mamas and babies live, when a text came through. I paused to read it and took a moment to pause in my barn work as well.
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I didn't want to go to the barn this evening. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. <<<>>> It's below freezing out here on the ranch. I woke up to snowflakes meandering to the
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Sunday: It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas... The tune lilts through my head as I look around the house, but while there is probably a tree in the grand hotel, and while friends have been
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A piece I wrote for shelovesmagazine. Schmida was an immigrant. Jewish. German. A Holocaust survivor. She spoke Yiddish and fed the neighborhood children alongside her own (the way mothers
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I am the sort of person who has favorite trees. I've always found trees to be a little bit magical, a piece of the past that roots into the future. When I was a little girl, one of my favorite
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I have a bottle of wine chilling in my freezer. I will need at least a glass of it to make it through this post. Some of you have reached out to me since my post on depression, asking why I’m
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As an Almost Farmgirl living in the heart of the Midwest, I spend a lot of time thinking about winter. Planning for the next round of cold begins almost as soon as things warm up in the Spring.
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I spent the other morning holding the lead line of my largest horse, an off the track thoroughbred named Vinny, while our vet quietly sedated him and stitched a gaping dermal laceration on his