Oh my how life does sway. Like the rye grass amid the crimson clover.

There have been days where we sweat through our clothes. And days when the work seems too hard, or the sleep insufficient, or the reward too far off. But then the wind starts to blow and the temperature drops and I get to put my sweater on and go for a walk down the farm lane.

I've been reading a lot of short stories lately. Such an amazing genre. And I have been spending a great deal of time with some spectacular people. I am happy still.