Carmen saw the intruder first. Using her big-girl bark, she alerted me to the danger. I called her off and she came to me. Damn. There lay a copperhead on the edge of the garage concrete, not more than eight feet from where a copperhead bit me in 2012.
Continue reading “Copperhead Redux”
If still alive, my buddy Tim would turn 71 on August 27th. I was recently thinking about Tim, while reminiscing about our friend Howard’s 10th birthday party in 1965. I still laugh at the story of an usher almost kicking us out of the Roxy Theatre when Tim shouted out, “LOOK AT THAT SPITFIRE!” in the middle of the movie, “Von Ryan’s Express.”
Continue reading “Tim and the Spitfire”
Ranch dressing. You know it. Most of you love it. Evidently, So do recent European World Cup visitors. I chuckle at that. While stationed in Germany in the ‘80s, Cath and I received Hidden Valley Ranch spice packets in care packages from home and introduced German friends to its deliciousness back then.
Continue reading “Chronicles of Hidden Valley”
My wife Cathy is a certified badass. Seventy years old, she still does CrossFit regularly, while I only get my exercise from peaceful walks in the woods. I was thinking about this in the weeks leading up to our 48th anniversary on June 16th.
Continue reading “Cathy, The Badass”
There are no immaculate conceptions on farms, however, our friend Linda, who raises sheep, miraculously has six pregnant ewes. How did it happen? While shearing her sheep this spring, she learned one of her males had a “dangler” she missed when castrating him last year – Whoops! It’s quite a story.
Continue reading “The Dangler”
My friend Evan and I were checking out a trail for our running group, The DC Hash House Harriers (DCH3). As we followed the route, it became clear Evan and I have different definitions of what constitutes a hill. We decided to do a joint blog about hills, each writing half without input from the other. This is the result.
Continue reading “What Defines a Hill”
At Rohan Farm, we have five main pastures or paddocks for the horses. In Cathy’s and my shorthand, we call them: The Back Field, The Jenny Craig, The Barn Paddock, The Field Near the House, and The Front Field. For us, each area has its own particular use.
Continue reading “Pastures and Paddocks”
In the summer of ‘82 while stationed in Germany, we drove to what was then Yugoslavia* for a vacation. Along the way, we stopped for lunch in Venice. That is what you do when you are young and in love. Not for the night. Not for a couple of days. Just lunch, because, why the hell not?
Continue reading “A 1980s Selfie in Venice”
With apologies to the late, great, John Lennon, Instant Karma got us … In a good way. It happened unexpectedly last Friday night. Cathy and I, suffering a bit from cabin fever due to our recent sleetapocalypse and frigid temperatures, left the farm and drove to Warrenton for a dinner out.
Continue reading “Instant Karma”
An old African saying – “GPS tells you the road. It does not tell you there is a hole in the road.” OK, maybe not an old saying, but we did hear this advice in Africa from Harry, one of our safari guides. I was thinking about Harry recently, as someone stuck his truck in our field, while following his GPS.
Continue reading “GPS and an Old African Saying”
Live Life Exuberantly 