The Woods Are Lovely Dark and Deep

“Better is a neighbor who is near than a brother who is far away.” Proverbs 27:10b "The woods are lovely dark and deep," words from Robert Frost's beloved poem Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening. Tonight there was no snow. None this evening or this morning or yesterday, even though snow was forecast.... Continue Reading →

One Hot Dusty Afternoon in Payson

One hot dusty afternoon, August 9, 1927, in Payson, Oklahoma, a baby girl was born and the world became a sweeter place. Her mother, Monte Michael, named the child Freda, after her daddy, Fred Michael a grocer who was respected and loved by many friends and neighbors in the tiny rural town of Tribbey, Oklahoma.... Continue Reading →

Quiet Evening

An evening on the porch at the close of a summer day brings stillness and country-style quiet. There is no noise of trains or traffic, no sirens, or horns honking. I sit and listen. The wind has laid in the treetops, but I can hear the water running in the ditches toward the creek below... Continue Reading →

My House

"Home is a house filled with love, groomed with care, and lived in with a mixture of laughter and tears." c. e. hollis   My home is a house, an old farmhouse, but well-loved. My home has seen hardship, excitement, grief, celebration, death, life, illness, health, depression, and exuberance––the sweets and sours of life's experiences... Continue Reading →

Spring Whispers Promises

    Spring whispers promises and I wait through rain showers, in welcome warming sunshine, past misty mornings, and cool musical evenings. I watch buds on trees pop open and show new leaves and flowers. I watch the sprouts rise to reveal the first wonderful colors with hyacinths, crocuses, daffodils, and tulips in the flowerbeds... Continue Reading →

The Old Farm Bell

"Across the wide acres, from the church house, the schoolhouse, the farmhouse––the bell rings and sings through the air and into your soul." c.e.hollis   When I first moved to the farm 20 years ago, it was not then a farm. It had been a farm. It had grown sorghum, corn, hay, pecans, and soybeans.... Continue Reading →

Winter: Made in Summer

Tomatoes, still bubbling hot in their jars, cool on the a checkered dishtowel. The red is a sight to excite the eyes in the hot dragging days of late summer. I love canning. It gives a sense of accomplishment––lifting the jars from the boiling water and setting them to cool. I know they will make... Continue Reading →

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