If this old farm could talk, it would tell of the years gone by. It would tell stories of the six generations in our family before us who poured their blood, sweat, tears, and heart into the land. It would tell of the droughts and the hardships, and of the bountiful harvests and the family
I’ll admit it. I’m a sucker for all things “New Year, New Me”! What a romantic thought that everything we don’t like about our old selves will just wash away on December 31st, and when we awake January 1st a shiny, new, less flawed version of ourselves will magically emerge. It’s like a reset button.