My children have an interesting way of looking at a calendar that is inaccurate and yet totally endearing. I can’t explain the inaccuracies in any way that makes sense to them, though I do try.

When did Christmas start feeling different for you? I remember the exact moment it dawned on me that Christmas had changed. I was 16 and had long stopped believing in Santa, and yet, up until that season, the Christmas season still possessed that unworldly magic of the movies.

I grew up listening to my grandparents tell stories about their short time in Montana – they only stayed a year. Once, I asked why they left. Grandma laughed and told me about that winter.

I love the transition of the seasons. I love living in a place that has seasons. I love the gradual slowdown in the fall as much as I crave the increase in activity in the spring.

Farming isn’t for the faint of heart, the lazy or the unconcerned. Farming is for the trailblazers, for the pioneers and for the optimists.

“Ewe lamb up for discussion.” I read on my nightly doom scroll through Facebook. “What does that even mean?” I thought.