By Audrey Barker Plotkin
A wrench and an irrigation fitting clatter from a jeans pocket into the washing machine, and I sigh. Being married to a farmer has its price, but most of the time I feel extremely lucky to live on a farm and witness the work and magic that goes into producing food.
By Elizabeth Farnsworth
Ah, spring in New England: an 80-degree day following a chilly night. After a long winter of hibernation, I am ready to emerge from my den, go for a brisk walk on a favorite trail, breathe the invitingly warm air, and … take a nap! I love to engage in a peaceful, leisurely celebration of the first balmy days of the season by stretching out in a warm ray of sunshine and drifting languorously off to sleep. Perhaps that sounds under-achieving: Shouldn’t we be cleaning out winter’s cobwebs, mowing the lawn, or planting seedlings? But there will be time for all that activity, after … (yawn) …
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