Crescent was getting more than a bit familiar with me. First it was my fingers, then the seams and zipper...
Last days in August The tarmac heats the rubber soles of my boots. It’s hotter here than I had expected...
The early 1970s found us almost completely mechanized on our farm in the rolling hills of central Mississippi. At the...
As a farmer and former English major, it gives me no pleasure to announce this, but the truth is agriculture...
The rural mailboxes that marked the turning point to farmhouse laneways dotting the Kansas countryside were landmarks to those wandering...
My mother never liked the tawdry light post that stands in the middle of our front yard. Its awkward and...
Watch David Lynch read his essay “Family Farm Survivor,” or read the text below. Family Farm Survivor, by David...
June 18, 2021 – from The Croft in Boyne City, Michigan My check engine light came on last night while...
This photo is of my father. I hold it in my hands, a 4-inch by 4-inch Kodak memory of my...
Like just about everyone else in my suburban neighbourhood, I have a dog. Three times a day, I walk this...
Lately the thought of homesteading and dreams has been on my mind. I’m part of an online group of homesteaders...
They say you never forget your first time. Mine was so painfully embarrassing that it’s difficult to write about. In...