“Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.” Neil Postman. Memories bubble up, a jumble of being pregnant, diapers,…
Sawmill Creek Farm Posts
Little girls lying in bed under a handmade wool quilt. It’s early morning and we listen, wondering if dad, who worked away from home for…
I see it in a parent as they hold the hands of their wee child and in that classic hunched over position, they encourage those…
I can still hear the clunk of the wood, the ripping of the newspaper and strike of the match. The sounds of my childhood as…
You’ve read the story & seen the movie. In a moment of extreme sadness & desperation for the lovely young maiden, the maternal fairy magically…
In this first world country, we are inundated with it. As children we begin to collect it; all those “treasures” that we find and in…
Much of what I observe in life somehow gets a food analogy. I’m not a trained chef or a science whiz. I do however, have…
I grew up in a simple homestead home. There were large amounts of love and laughter but small amounts of money. A massive garden and…
The temperatures are frigid and that wasn’t the only challenge of the day. A flat tire a couple days ago required leaving the jalopy at…