I live on a farm ... — family

It started snowing yesterday afternoon at about four, but it didn't stick much at all. It snowed more last night and during the night, again not sticking. But this morning it started snowing again while it was still dark out and it did begin to stick. The power flicked on and off several times and our Internet connection left us completely for many hours. It on right now, and the sun is actually coming and going. We got a few inches of snow, and it is out there melting quickly. I have been out on three photo journeys this morning,...

We awoke at four o'clock this morning to flashes of lightning, thunder, and rain. It is raining off and on ... we have a possibility of snow flurries this coming weekend. That would be interesting. I'm going on a fund-raising walk for Breast Cancer on Sunday morning at a local farm, so I am thinking my new Lavender Scarf and Fetching gloves might come in handy. It seems along every roadway someone has a yard full of pumpkins for sale. People around here buy lots of pumpkins from the roadside farmers and then put them all over their porches and...

We spent yesterday afternoon over at the property where we have a cottage and a boat house, on the river. It is about five miles from the farm. My husband's grandfather on his mother's side bought that property back in the 1930's and it has been in his family ever since. The property consists of a bit of land up above the river, and then a bit of land down on the bank of the river about one hundred feet below. Originally there was a small farmhouse on the upper piece of land and no way down to the river...

Brrr ... we had a frost warning last night, and it feels rather frosty this morning. After breakfast, tea, and a bit of knitting before starting my work, I went outside with the camera to catch a bit of autumn to share with you this morning. I have more photos to share this morning than I have room for in one blog posting, unless of course the entire posting was photographic ... but that would be a bit rough on those of you "tuning in" via dial up, so I will refrain. Even now as I type I see golden...

My mother's recipe box is a treasure chest filled with jewels. I used to love to browse through it, gazing and the various hand-written index cards and clippings from newspapers, magazines, and product packaging. In that magic treasure box she has recipes from her mother's farm, my father's mother's farm, her own recipes of all the dishes she made when she was raising her children, and those shared by sisters, neighbors, cousins, a nanny, and even strangers in some cases, I would imagine. My parents are wonderful people; they grew up on farms in Mt. Airy, North Carolina, the boyhood...