How We Roll . . .

     I said goodbye to a friend today. Like every farm-visit request I get, I anguish over the time.
     But given tomorrow, she moves to another country, I concluded we may never pass this way again.
     Before setting sail, her life packed in boxes, she drove miles out of her way to have one last authentic take on farm life in Tennessee...my world in real time, otherwise pretty in pictures on Facebook.
     She arrived just as I was meeting with the county. When they come to check your fences, you don't leave 'em waiting.  I had workers on the clock who needed me to sign off on things....make a list of materials we'd need on site by tomorrow.
     While she waited, my goats jumped on her and dogs slobbered on her nice pants. But if authentic is what she was after, authentic she got. Farm work stops for no one, and though our time was brief, I was happy we were able to grab a few minutes...Long enough to eat a tomato sandwich.

   
     So here's to you, my fellow traveler...Etch it ever in your heart.
     Here's the garden that I write from ... Those two poles, they mark the start
     of the rows I've still to harvest ... Rosey ever on patrol
     Skies behind us roll with thunder...as I hum, "Then sings my soul"

     Godspeed on your journey. May your time spent in these parts be forever in your heart. And heartfelt thanks for all the joy you've brought to ours.