Hello, friend,
My days rarely unfold the way I expect.
Some mornings begin with a newborn calf taking its first shaky steps. Others start with a frantic phone call about an escaped goat, a colicky horse, or a family who simply needs someone to tell them everything is going to be all right.
By evening, the trucks have gone quiet, Walter has claimed his favorite spot on the porch, and the last light is settling over the pasture. That's when I pour myself a cup of coffee, sit down at my kitchen table, and write.
I write about the little moments that somehow become the ones you remember.
The old dairy farmer who still tips his cap every time I pull into the drive.
The lamb who decided the front seat was a much better place to ride than the trailer.
The curious calf who followed me around the pasture as if we'd been friends for years.
The neighbor who insists I leave with fresh tomatoes from the garden.
They're small moments, really.
Easy to miss if you're in a hurry.
But I've learned that life is often at its very best in those ordinary moments.
If you're looking for a reason to smile when you open the mailbox, I'd love to write to you each month.
The Letters
By the time I sit down at the kitchen table each evening, there are always one or two moments from the day I know I'll still be thinking about tomorrow.
Those are the ones I write to you about.
Each month I'll tuck a letter into your envelope, filled with the little moments that stayed with me long after the day was over.
The ones that made me smile.
The unexpected ones.
The ordinary moments.
The ones that made me pause and appreciate this quiet life.
They're the stories I'd tell if we were sharing a pot of coffee at my kitchen table.
The ones I couldn't help but share with a friend.
From My Neighbor's Kitchen
It's funny how often I leave a farm with more than I arrived with.
Fresh eggs.
Garden tomatoes.
A loaf of warm bread wrapped in a t owel.
And every now and then, someone insists I take home a handwritten recipe.
Each month I'll tuck one of those favorites into your envelope.
Some have been passed from one generation to the next. Others simply became family traditions one kitchen table at a time.
Every recipe has a story.
Meet Walter
Every veterinarian needs a good dog.
Walter has never missed a house call, although he occasionally sleeps through the paperwork and firmly believes every farm belongs to him.
He considers himself an expert in muddy fields, slow walks, and keeping me company while I write.
I'm quite certain Walter will find his way into more than a few of my letters.
He ususally manages to become part of the story anyway.