Pumpkin Hollow Farm

Seven Years in Farmgirl School

We live very seasonally.  Everything we do has its time of year to be done.  During January, there is little farm work to do.  The bees are busy in their apartment building, the goats and chickens are cared for a couple times a day, and we fill a few orders.  We have one market this …

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The night is surprisingly cold and calm. The snowstorm has passed and the late sky is crisp and stars are just twinkling through.  The prairie is beautifully dark.  Exhilaratingly so.  I am walking the path east into the swell of ebony towards the mailboxes.  The path is faintly lit with the bluish street light behind the …

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The sun was shining yesterday and though the air was cool I figured it was a good time to get some laundry done.  The sky was clear and soft, a mirror of light blue stretching far and wide and the mountains stood tall in the distance.  A purple silhouette against the prairie sky.  The grasses …

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‘Tis Thanksgiving eve a prayer hushes over the land of grateful hearts for harvest so full such bounty in our lives and hand.   We bow our heads in repose to give sweet thanks for blessings abound for those before us that bowed their heads their new lives on this prairie found.   A feast to eat …

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The season’s first storm blew upon the land.  Racing winds howled across the prairie.  The sounds both ominous and exhilarating.  The house shook, the wood stove crackled, cats snuggled close.  The midnight sky showed only coal black. This morning the house read forty-five degrees.  Our breath showing in threads in the main room.  In the kitchen the little wood stove-that-could …

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We walked along the dusty paths, the only sound from our shuffling feet.  Cottontail rabbits with their winter fur occasionally crossing our path.  Hawks swooped overhead.  A beautiful silence and solace lay across the land.  Not another soul out hiking today.  Just the two of us. The valleys used to be filled with Buffalo and …

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I stepped outside before the sun’s colorful hands glided over the edge of the prairie.  The lighting was surreal and looked as if I lived in a Renaissance pastel that might hang in the museum.  A painted landscape so beautiful my mind could hardly fathom.  The owls called to each other from tree to tree …

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I am in love with this place.  It speaks to me… of heartbreaks healed and promises kept. The lingering wood smoke scents the air as the rustic landscape captivates me.  It pulls me in and dances with me across further snow capped peaks and nestles me near in elder Elms.  I am pleased here, at …

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The house smells faintly of wood smoke.  It is beautiful here.  Serene.  Earlier when taking my greyhound for a walk through the acres of tall grass, he startled a large owl.  It fled from a massive willow and swept overhead across the pasture, it’s long grey wings soaring.  The skyline is seemingly painted.  Such a sense …

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