Good For The Soul

The sky was shades of morning blue, all the way to the horizon, with not a cloud in sight. I could already feel the heat and humidity in the air, but the strong breeze blowing from the west helped it to not feel so oppressive. The sun shone brightly over the tops of the trees in the distance, its warm rays already bouncing off the metal barn roof in blinding spectrums of light. The collie joined me on my trek to the chicken coop. He knows he isn’t allowed inside, so he watched instead, gave a few sniffs, and wandered on down the yard. After feeding the hungry chickens I made sure to lock the door so they got no surprise visitors to their humble abode. Now, it was off to the barn to let the horse outside into the pasture. She made me smile with her fly mask on. Her attire reminded me of an equine version of a Halloween costume. Even though her eyes and ears are covered, I know she is watching me. Better to wear a mask then to have to deal with those pesky nuisance flies!

On the way back to the house I notice I have an entire entourage following behind me. It is an early morning farm parade… Me, the collie, the neighbor’s dog, and two out of our three outside cats, followed along behind me. I laughed out loud. The sound carried and bounced off the side of the barn, echoing back across the yard. Laughter. It truly is good for the soul.



Today I am thankful for:

*blue sky

*pets…lots of pets


*good food in the crock pot

*watching TV with my husband

*tall, lanky son

*daughter who wears her ball cap

*front porch flowers that explode in colors of purple and pink

*movie with friends

*ice cold water

*flip flops and rolled up jeans

*summertime music

*reading a good book and napping in the hammock

Living The Life

I was out in the front yard this morning, walking the dog.











Well, if I’m truly honest, the dog runs around the yard while I stand there taking in the stillness of the morning. It was early, around 6:30am, but was already light outside. I spotted one of the neighbors jogging by on the road, with his dog. My dog barked a good morning greeting. The killdeer (noisy birds) are up and at it. The geese honked at the “pond” across the road. The llamas grazed. The rooster crowed, and I heard someone driving on the road a few miles away. It is amazing how much one can hear out in the country.














Last night I was outside (once again, the dog and I) around 10pm. It was completely dark, and still fairly warm. I heard cows bawling. I figured it was the neighbors cows at the end of the road, or maybe the ones owned by the neighbor over the hill. I enjoy watching the black and white cows graze in the field beyond our back property. I find it peaceful. Cows don’t really get in a hurry. They mosey around, chewing their cud, meditating on the things of life…like whether or not they will walk over to the other side of the field, or just lay down where they are. Deep stuff.



I love this cow that wanted her photo taken.

I love this cow that wanted her photo taken.











Yesterday (and most days, really) I throw open the back doors of the barn and let Jazz into her stall. After I get her situated with her food and water, I go back to the open doors and stare out across the pasture. I can see clear back to the end of our property where it butts up against the fence of the farmer who lives behind us. Fence posts, against a blue sky with white fluffy clouds. Space. Breathing it all in (yes, even the farm smells!).














It’s just so beautiful to me.

I am blessed.


The First Monday In March

It is Monday, but it is a good day. The student I usually see on Monday is unable to meet today, so that freed up some time. I do have a meeting at three, but until then….. I have about a million chores around the house. Laundry is the never ending cycle of life. Adam and Eve really had it made, then they had to go and mess things up. Sweeping/Vacuuming is a necessary evil when one has indoor pets. Fur roams the house like tumbleweeds in the desert. If you ever come to visit, don’t look too closely. I think I will put chicken in the crockpot for dinner, and possibly make some phone calls that I need to quit putting off. Maybe.




It was supposed to be snowy today, but the storm took a more southerly track and so we only have a few inches here in central Ohio. That is okay, I suppose. I don’t mind winter, unlike most of my friends. I love Spring too…just not days of rain and mud. I’m not a fan of the mud. Out here in the country there is a lot of it. When there is a lot of it outside, that means there will be a lot of it inside. I refuse to wear my new tennis shoes (that are way cool) until after the mud season. I want them to stay new looking for at least awhile. In the meantime, I will only wear cruddy shoes or rubber boots. After all, I am the farmyard fashionista. I’ve already almost lost my rubber boots to the sucking mud pit that is the horse field. Stuck in what felt like muddy quick sand. The horse found it amusing, me not so much.




With the winding down of the winter and the ramping up of the spring, this means planting of flowers. Now, I will fully admit that I am in no way, shape, or form, the green thumb of the family. That would fall to my sister. Too bad that she lives so far away, or I’d borrow her for this spring time ritual. Regardless, I need to plant stuff in the flowerbed out front. This year I am seriously considering planting the whole entire length of the front flower beds with lavender. That and a couple of rose bushes are the only plants that will survive in this soil. Seriously. The flowerbeds are also in the shade for most of the day. I figure lavender smells so good and it is pretty purple… will survive and look good doing it. That is good enough for me.












Spring also requires the cleaning out of the chicken coop(s). This is a completely disgusting job. I love my chickens and I love my fresh eggs. I do not enjoy chicken poop. The irony of coop and poop rhyming, is not lost on me. Okay, here is the thing, I see all these cute chicken coops in my country living magazines, I see them at the Amish stores, I see them all over……and anyone that has real live chickens knows that chickens poop. All over. Everywhere. They are poop machines. They don’t care if their coop is cute on not. They will poop on it and in it and around it. The cute coop will not be so cute anymore. I will not spend big bucks on a cute coop….when it a very short time, no matter how much one cleans, it will become the poop coop.












With warmer weather on the seasonal horizon, this means garage sales/yard sales/flea markets will be out and about soon. This is sort of my thing. And by thing I mean my love of the eclectic. My passion for the repurposed. It is what I enjoy when I don’t have to do all the “real life” stuff. I wish I could blend my love of flea markets with real life. That would be the best job ever. Well, maybe I could blend flea markets and traveling and writing together. Now, that would be the best. Just sayin’.














Sigh…… I guess I better get moving. The dryer just dinged, which means it is ready for yet another load.



Today I am thankful for: 


*snow covered front yard

*fresh eggs

*frozen ground and no icky mud

*a new flea market magazine to read

*some free time

*cinnamon tea scented candle

*my 7 day cold is finally about over! …..the sneezing is done!

*hearing good things about my son

*Happy Birthday to friends


*a new week

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. His love endures forever. Psalm 136:1  NIV


Rural Sculpture









Rural sculptures fills the horizon.

Country art rolls into the fields…

Beautiful in its simplicity.










Quiet stillness, only interrupted by the hum of farm equipment.









Shadows fall long across this farmland scene.

The daylight draws to a close,

as the sun slips beyond the edge of the field.







Ready For Spring

Today is such a beautiful day, even though it is only the end of February. Since, it appears that this is the year without a real winter…I’m skipping right into Spring. Won’t you join me?

Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts. — Oliver Wendell Holmes