photo of goats

Young willow trees slap me in the face as I weave my way through the island. I can’t see more than two feet in front of me even with my headlamp on. I’m tripping on dead cottonwood branches and occasionally stepping into pools of water. I have cockleburs in my hair, stickers in my legs, and my stomach is growling. “F****** goats.” If you think it would be fairly easy to find a whole herd of goats in a relatively small area even at night, you’re wrong. You…

The other day, I was splitting wood for winter. I couldn’t hear much over the sounds of the splitter or my ear protection so I was startled when I looked up and there was an old green Ford pickup parked right next to me. A random guy: “You in charge here?” Me: (5 second hesitation) “Why?” I’ll stop the story here and tell you that “why” is my standard answer for three questions I’m frequently asked: Am I in charge? Am I Tom’s daughter? And, are those your…