Farm Yarns
Recent Stories
The New Playground
My Mom’s intense delight in animals of every kind led my sister and I on trips of discovery with all our barnyard animals and pets. She would come and get us, “Dad’s going to let the newest baby pigs out for the first time! Do you want to watch?” “Yeah!” And we rushed...
Winter Artistry
Wind howls, relentless against the walls, shaking siding, buffeting branches, and toppling trellises. Blasts swirl, shrill and piercing, dodging through gingerbread, and clawing at windows and doors. But the wind is not alone. It comes armed with furious white teeth,...
Toads
I have two toads living in my cellar. It is an old farmhouse with an amazing stone foundation. I’m not exactly sure how they got in (rather unnerving if I think too much on that) but the toads are happy and healthy. “Don’t put them outside, they’re eating the...
The B Solo
Dark towering clouds rumbled and flashed in the distance while our field lay littered with fresh hay bales. The pressure was on – the harvest had to be inside before the rain hit. Each small bale, weighing maybe 50 to 60 pounds, had to be loaded one by one onto a...
The Chesapeake’s Retrieval
The unseasonably warm day begged me to open windows and banish the winter staleness from our old farmhouse. The March breeze still had a bite so the whole family bundled up to enjoy the weather. Looking forward to nestling against crisp fresh-smelling cotton, I washed...
The Robin’s Gamble
Each summer the front deck of our old farmhouse engages in a territorial battle with an ancient lilac bush. In early spring new saplings sprout up through the floor boards from deep roots and new branches invade through the railing from the side. If I don’t hack away...
A Moth Moment
I scrambled out of bed, my heart pounding. I’d hit the snooze button too many times and now I would be late! I wanted to feed the chickens before my shower so I threw on a pair of old pants and a T-shirt, trotted down the old farmhouse stairs, stepped into my barn...
Dad’s Shadow
I peeked through the doorway of the small red feed room then climbed into the dimly lit space, my nose full of the rich wholesome fragrance of milled corn, wheat, oats and barley. I sidled up to the figure stooped in the low-ceiled room, “What you doin’ Dad?” "Getting...
Brave Little Friend
Goodbye my faithful friend, my constant shadow. I'll never again smooth the fine hair around your eyes and ears, or rub your belly between your front legs the way you love. Never again be exasperated by your leaping frenzied greeting when I come home at the end of the...
Natural Respect
My stomach clenched, my hands gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, my brain addled by the whirling of my head front to back side to side, my left leg ached with tension as it hovered over the clutch pedal. And yet I was proud, so proud of what I was doing,...
Have Steam, Will Travel
Tons of black iron crept almost soundlessly out of Ernie's driveway, hissing, smoke billowing, gravel crunching under it's enormous weight. A mass of levers and gauges allowed the driver to direct the steam power boiling within. At the controls, our cousin Ernie was...
The Rhubarb Incident
Mom stood looking out the big east kitchen window of our red brick farm house, “Susan! Look out the window, Cheryl’s outside with Blackie. Leading him in the rain!” I dropped my library book, uncurled my legs and jumped up in one quick movement, pressing my face...
About Susan
I love stories – reading, writing, listening, watching. I’ve always had a creative spark (my mind contrives twisted plots for fun) but working in the business world doesn’t leave much room for individual artistic flair. So after working in different businesses for 35 years, I’ve taken a detour onto the creative side.
Farm Yarns on Facebook
Recent Comments