The Farm

For nearly fifty years my family has owned a farm in northwestern Illinois. My dad grew up in Chicago and his mother, who grew up on a dairy farm in Virginia, missed the country and found a retreat in hills that reminded her of home near Hanover, IL.


Wednesday's sunrise, courtesy of my mom

I  grew up spending summer weeks waking up to see dairy cows grazing in the misty fields, eating red plums off the tree and blackberries straight from the bush, taking walks through the creek, cooking campfire breakfasts up on the ridge, and watching my dad and his brothers build enormous bonfires and set off bottle rockets in the fields on the Fourth of July.  My parents and my brother, Chad, have been out there for the last couple of weeks and leave for home today.  I don't envy all the AP work (including Moby Dick) that Chad was sidled with while he was there but I do miss the freedom of those summers off that allow him to still spend long stretches in that magical place.  I can't wait to be out there celebrating fifty years next July.

Have a lovely weekend everyone!