Once, some years ago, we had neighbors who had moved into the country for the good life, away from the hectic town life they had lived all their lives.

We could have told them the truth about the simple carefree life they thought we were living, but frankly I didn’t have the heart. After all, they’d sold their house in town and moved into their country home. Let the good times roll.

They wanted to grow things, they said. All you have to do is stick plants in the ground and sit back to reap the bounty.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could have given them the magic wand we used on Fowler Farm to get all the work done? If, of course, we ever got all the work done.

We didn’t have flocks of sheep, herds of cattle or thousands of chickens.

But at that time, we did have three black angus, a mule, two horses, 25 chickens, one calf, four dogs, numerous cats and a hog. We had given up

You must be logged in to view this content.