4 years ago today, my mother died.  My dear, beautiful, compassionate, wise mother took her last breath.  I still cannot think of her absence without breaking into sobs that hurt my ribs.  My Mom

I suspect Mom is watching us this morning – here on the farm – with her unique perspective built on humor and empathy.  P isn’t feeling great – perhaps a bit run down from chopping up the giant pine tree that snapped and fell into our goat yard yesterday – and I’m sad, of course.

So we should have expected to find both our Great Pyrenees running free in the yard  first thing this morning.  That’s how these things go, right?

I’m writing over at my other blog today. I hope you’ll stop by to read more.