On the ranch, the kids, the weeds, the grass, the garden, and the calves are growing. And, as the sounds coming from our mini bull pen indicate, almost everything on the ranch reaches puberty.
It’s the best place for your morning coffee, back-to-school pictures, the evening meal, or just to sit and visit. Our front porch is my favorite place in the whole world.

Rainy days on the ranch mean not much can get done outside. The garden isn’t weeded. The fields aren’t brush hogged. Fence rows are neglected. Mud is tracked into the chicken house. Cows hide in the trees, making it extra difficult to check that everyone is accounted for.

Back in 2012, we were just visitors to the ranch we now call home. Now, we get to entertain family visitors at the family farm, all 141 acres of them.

On day 1000-ish, I must have lost count, we became official. We named the ranch, picked a herd prefix, and welcomed a couple calves of our own.