
"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....






October 2009
"Showers and a glimpse of snow, like Cassandra, portents show. While the hills are clothed in glory, and the rain is summer-warm, winter whispers its same old story: Soon enough, the storm!"


"Cookies are good." Read my barnyard stories....
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