Farmgirl and Buttermilk Green Hill Farm Summer 2019 PC: Alison Creasy Photography “I do not understand the mystery of grace–only that it meets us where we are, and does not leave us where it found us.” ~Anne Lamott, author Enjoy your week!
One of my favorite sheep, Clover, watching the chickens scratch in the grass and chase bugs.
Butterbean, Sweet Pea, and Truffle stoically watching their fallen friend. This post was originally published November 1st, 2018 It’s hard to believe it’s been a year. However, the lesson is still there. I squatted uncomfortably in the pasture. My left shin gently pressing on Rosebud’s back with the remainder of weight shifted to my right leg. My left hand disappeared into the coarse wool on her chest, above her heart. As I carefully caressed Rosebud’s face, the feathery sensation of her long eyelashes brushed against my hand as she opened and closed her eyes. Her heartbeat was faint. Although Rosebud was still grazing and eating grain regularly, we recently noticed she had lost weight and seemed to be lying around more. She was nearly 12-years-old now–elderly for a sheep. However, even though a bit slower, she was always grazing with the flock and never missed an opportunity for a grain treat…until Wednesday morning. After feeding the sheep, I walked back to the house, feeling my chest tighten and heaviness gather in my shoulders. Once inside, I picked up the phone and dialed our local vet’s office. A young girl answered, “Bedford Animal Hospital.” I was struck by the contrast of the cheerful, sunny voice at the other end of the line to the worried, grayness of my inner landscape. The receptionist informed me that the doctors’ schedules were full, and that no one would be available for a […]
Farmgirl & lambs Green Hill Farm “Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Wishing you a wonderful day!
Clover and The Crew “This land pulses with life. It breathes in me; it breathes around me; it breathes in spite of me. When I walk on this land, I am walking on the heartbeat of the past and the future. And that’s only one of the reasons I am a farmer.” ~Brenda Sutton Rose
Truffle and Clover Green Hill Farm 2019 *Photographs courtesy of Alison Creasy Photography “The important thing is not to think much, but to love much; and so, do that which best stirs you to love.” ~Sainte Thérèse D’Ávila Have a wonderful weekend!
Farmgirl and Dash All photographs courtesy of Alison Creasy Photography “In daily life we must see that it is not happiness that makes us grateful, but gratefulness that makes us happy.” ~Brother David Steindl–Rast Wishing everyone a wonderful week!
Biscuit–a sweet, new addition to Green Hill Farm Sadly, we’ve had to say goodbye over the last two years to six of our original ten flock members: Violet, Fern, Rosebud, Daisy, Button, and Heather. While it’s been heartbreaking at times, I’m grateful for the opportunity to care for and love these sweet, new faces. Buttermilk and Biscuit have had […]
Green Hill Farm April 2019 “And do not change. Do not divert your love from visible things. But go on loving what is good, simple and ordinary; animals and things…, and keep the balance true. ~Rainer Maria Rilke “Let nothing disturb you, / Nothing frighten you—/ All things pass, / But God never changes.” ~Sainte Thérèse […]
*This post originally appeared in September 2014. It is the last post in a trilogy titled, Green Hill Farm: A Retrospective. I posted the second part of this journey yesterday as I am celebrating the completion of the restoration of my home and fifteen years of living on Green Hill Farm this month. A kind thank you to everyone who took the time to read or re-read Retrospective #2 last week. In looking back on the experience of saving my family’s homeplace, I’ve realized that not only was it a gesture of love, but more importantly, it was an act of faith. Faith, or wearing my rose-colored glasses as I like to say, sustained us through difficult times and propelled us forward. I don’t know where we would have been without it. At the beginning of this journey, shortly after my parents offered us the homeplace, my mom and I took a walk through the house. I remember walking through the dark, dimly lit downstairs hallway, the musty smell of rooms left undisturbed for too long, and cobwebs carefully covering yesterday’s treasures. I remember slowly climbing the stairs, counting each one as I went up. It made me think of Granddaddy. He once shared a story of the time his Grandmother Rieley visited when he was just a boy; She asked, “John, how many steps are there?” He quickly replied, “Sixteen!” He told me that he knew the […]