Sunset, Little World

I lean against the chicken-wire fence, hoof trimmers hanging From my belt. In one hand, I hold your empty sippy-cup while the other Shades my eyes from the setting sun. Until a moment ago, I thought You were only steps behind me but when I reached the gate, I realized your Short strides no longer …

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And Then There Were Four: Saying Goodbye to Ali the Foster Donkey

Sweat ran down my spine in slow, chilly lines as I stood in the driveway with one hand shading my eyes from the sun and the other waving goodbye to a man and woman from central Texas who pulled away carefully in their large, white pickup truck. Attached to the back of their truck was …

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Two Worlds Diverged in a Summer Afternoon

It was high, hot noon as I drove along the gravel road that leads to our house. As I pulled up, I stepped out of the pickup truck to open the rusted gate. The pink crepe myrtles along the front fence were in full, summer bloom---their tiny flowers winking as if to welcome us home. …

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Black Chicken Bloomed

One year ago today, I posted this story on my blog. This was the story of the Unicorn and the first death of a chicken here and how King Ranch refused to let one of his own die in vain. It poured and it broke our hearts. This morning, I decided to wander over to the spot beneath …

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Little Foot’s Little Books

We are nearing the end of the usual soaked, Texas spring. Soon, the clay will crackle in devastating dehydration and the treetops and rosebushes will be broiled. I give it another month until we’re begging for relief from the heat. I sat on the floor in the living room sipping my coffee, watching Little Foot …

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Life and Death, Again. I Guess That’s the Way of Things.

It wouldn't rain. My goodness, had it been trying to, but it just would not rain. The thing about late, Texas spring is that when the sky tries to rain, but can’t, we’re all left wandering through soupy, walking-through-a-warm-wash-cloth air that gets trapped around the middle of the rib-cage when you inhale. For those of …

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Choppy Waves

To your tiny face, I stoop down, My thumb pushing that line Of tears. They’re cool on Your warm, tired face, and Glaze the depth of your blue Eyes with heavy glint that hurts.   Come here, unto my chest, my Baby, and feel my beating heart. Every Thump thumps just for you, every Hair, …

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Life. Death. And Somewhere in the Middle

As part of my morning routine, after coffee and a stretch and in addition to feeding the dog and giving the donkeys a pet, I check the chicken coop for any newly laid eggs in which to collect. For the past month or so, however, I have been unable to collect eggs because one of …

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A Season for Carving

With one hand lightly resting atop Bunny’s middle back and the other navigating a blue-handled, circular brush in thin lanes along her shedding side, I’ve just realized that I should have probably put some sunscreen on the back of my neck. I can’t see it, but it feels dark pink. Although it’s been about 6 …

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Growing Pains

When King Ranch and I decided to make the move to this property a year ago, one of the things I couldn’t wait to get going was a garden. I so desired the opportunity to build a homestead - to live off the land. It’s taken us a whole year, but we’ve finally done it …

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