December 2021

A sad sight is our old barn, sitting empty now and going downhill. The empty stanchions where tall Jupiter, with her sharply defined black and white patterned sides stood, third place down on the right, Anne with her big, soft eyes, and June, solid black...

An old farm house with little insulation, drips from the roof until the ice is javelins, waiting for bigger boys to spear it through the freezing air. Surely not at each other? Carefully thrust into the snow all around their newly dug fort, a sharp...