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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8:15: Coffee It's after 8:00; I'm still in bed, under covers, and I've only REALLY been awake for about 15 minutes. Over and over, I have to explain this. I don't do early mornings unless I
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"Don't let it be too long before you call again, honey." "I won't. Love you, Nana. Have a good night." "Love you too, darlin.'" We hadn't talked very long. She was tired. She had been
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It's been one of "those" days. You know the ones... It's the sort of day that feels a bit like three. Nothing goes catastrophically wrong, but things don't go quite right either. Minor
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"Ok," I said, "tell me why this wouldn't work." John, God bless the man, was standing in my chicken coop with an ice breaker, chipping away at the mass of chicken shit and ice that was preventing
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2018 rolled into 2019 without fanfare. I watched the time change from 11:59 to 12:00 on my wristwatch, and John and I wished each other a quiet "Happy New Year." That came after chores. After
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There needs to be a setting on my Fitbit for "walking through the snow in coveralls." Regular steps seem wholly inadequate for the trudge that takes me between the house and the barns each morning
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“If it’s your job to eat a frog, it’s best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it’s your job to eat two frogs, it’s best to eat the biggest one first.” Photo by Pixabay on
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You know that moment? The one that comes when you are trying desperately to be professional? To pass for a calm, cool, collected businessperson? Perhaps while you're at a bank, finishing a