tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-289323722012-01-24T17:53:32.252-06:00Welcome to my garden. Come in, take off your shoes, and let me offer you a seat in the shade, a cool drink, and friendly conversation while we enjoy the beauty of the day...barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.comBlogger10641100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-71535071157574855092012-01-19T09:15:00.000-06:002012-01-19T09:15:34.953-06:00

Big Sprout has been talking more about her life. It's a wonderful thing. She is not a child that naturally talks about what happens during her day, so I am very much enjoying that she wants to share with me. The other day, she was sharing with me that her friends at school like to get together and complain about their lives. Because, you know, the lives of 12 year olds are so incredibly hard.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-4296800691578789852012-01-10T21:57:00.000-06:002012-01-10T21:57:38.235-06:00

I only wake at home 7 mornings out of every 14. One of my biggest pet peeves is waking up every single one of those "at home" mornings to Little Sprout screaming from her room: "It's MOOOORRRRning, mommy! Time to wake UP!" This morning, I woke to find that Little Sprout had chosen to let herself into my room and crawl into bed with me instead of screaming. She was lying there next to me, calmly

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-80439761445100144532011-11-30T19:52:00.000-06:002011-11-30T19:52:06.147-06:00

Good Gracious! After some storm damage this past summer, we found ourselves a roofer. Unfortunately, he didn't really want to work, and after months of trying to pin him down on when we were going to get our roof done we ended up hiring someone else. The new guy is great. Really great. The job? Not so great. Not that our roof guy isn't doing the work, or doing it correctly, it's that every

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-34682729264900356182011-11-25T14:12:00.000-06:002011-11-25T14:12:33.827-06:00

Black Friday. The big shopping day. The day when we begin the Christmas season, and all the chaos that goes with it. I slept in. Yesterday was a big day. Family here, taking Big Sprout to her other family, getting the Christmas decorations up after all our guests left, out to a movie... yeah, I was busy. I did look at the Early Bird shoppers parked at the Walmart parking lot as we drove by

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-16646468253752003922011-11-11T12:45:00.000-06:002011-11-11T12:45:55.560-06:00

Too often, I allow my hurry (or my exhaustion) to keep me from really enjoying my time with the Sprouts. They are young (and annoying) right now, but they won't be forever. The days will fly by, turning into weeks and years while I am busy taking care of other things, and before I know it they will be grown and gone. Today, a chance comment while out with Grandpa revealed that Little Sprout had

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-90568837175341951602011-11-10T11:10:00.000-06:002011-11-10T11:10:00.377-06:00

Two weeks ago today, I cleaned and organized our front entry. Today, it is still clean. Shoes have been put away every day. Coats have been hung. Backpacks have (also) been put on their hooks. For two weeks, I have been able to open the front door all the way without pushing a pile of shoes up behind it. It's astonishing. And wonderful. Even Little Sprout has been making sure everything goes

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-86773400027899725322011-11-09T18:56:00.000-06:002011-11-09T18:56:03.769-06:00

I can't seem to comment on anyone's blog. I keep getting an error page stating that I am not authorized, or some dang thing. I'm still reading, though!

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-87243132816246701202011-11-09T17:38:00.000-06:002011-11-09T17:38:28.835-06:00

Something happened. I'm not sure how it started. Probably something about the new roof we are supposed to be getting (please, soon!) or the fact that we finally (FINALLY) got the attic insulated. I'm not sure, but something triggered my belief that some of the home improvement projects that need doing here at Barefoot Manor are actually going to happen, and I am.... obsessed. Our home is right

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-83028919742729861862011-11-07T20:04:00.001-06:002011-11-07T20:04:00.518-06:00

In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with anotherhuman being. We should all be thankful for thosepeople who rekindle the inner spirit. Albert Schweitzer

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-80049583054396928402011-11-05T21:25:00.000-05:002011-11-05T21:25:41.711-05:00

Mr. Barefoot is up north playing a gig. Big Sprout is out desperately trying to kill Bambi (good luck, you wonderful kid!) That leaves me with Little Sprout as my only company. Luckily, I worked today. Does that sound bad? What I meant was: I worked today, so Little Sprout visited with my folks, went to the park, played outside with Grandpa, and generally ran herself into exhaustion before I

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-55777966476582955622011-11-03T14:37:00.000-05:002011-11-03T14:37:55.928-05:00

After months of not really couponing very much (and not really grocery shopping much, my stockpile is that good, people), I casually scanned through the circulars this past Saturday and saw that the grocery store one town north of us (well, really it's 3 towns, but the other two are so small I don't even think they have post offices) was having a KILLER sale on chicken. With no limit. My little

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-71271502181296997702011-10-31T19:58:00.001-05:002011-10-31T19:58:00.283-05:00

It need not discourage us if we are full of doubts. Healthy questionskeep faith dynamic. In fact, unless we start with doubts we cannot havea deep-rooted faith. One who believes lightly and unthinkingly has not muchof a belief. One who has a faith which is not to be shaken has won it throughblood and tears--has worked his or her way from doubt to truth as onewho reaches a clearing through a

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-82085620938727834162011-10-26T14:26:00.000-05:002011-10-26T14:26:15.849-05:00

I have been trying to take my "5 minutes" whenever I do something. It doesn't always happen that way, but I have been taking 2 minutes here and 7 minutes there, and I am noticing a difference around Barefoot Manor. Monday, I even did all the laundry in the house. Really. All the laundry. Well, I didn't wash the curtains or the comforters on the beds, but I'm not counting them. Anyway. Today

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-45826952415541274002011-10-24T08:20:00.002-05:002011-10-24T08:20:00.049-05:00

I think luck is the sense to recognize an opportunity andthe ability to take advantage of it. Everyone has bad breaks,but everyone also has opportunities. People who can smileat their breaks and grab their chances get on. Samuel Goldwyn

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-87795468614876945212011-10-19T13:04:00.000-05:002011-10-19T13:04:50.542-05:00

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood ~Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken~ Life is full of tough choices. I know that. Part of being an adult is making those choices and doing the best you can. Right now, I have a choice to make. I don't have to make it today, I don't have to make it tomorrow, but sometime over the next week,

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-56783842535963916782011-10-18T15:45:00.002-05:002011-10-18T16:13:27.521-05:00

Hi. My name is Barefoot, and I am a slob. Not just messy, not just disorganized, a slob. I have made plenty of excuses about it over the years. I just don't have time. I was never taught how to be neat. I'm too tired. I'll do it later. My kids/roommate/hubby aren't neat, either, so it's not fair to expect me to clean up after them. There is too much stuff and too little room... ....etc, etc

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-64483142538205517292011-10-17T08:13:00.001-05:002011-10-17T08:13:00.504-05:00

Living life in terms of your vision and working toward your goals must be done in the context of today's activities. Do not focus too heavily on the results of your efforts. Do not live for the future attainment of your goal. Live your life through the lens of your vision and what can be done in the present moment. Living your vision is not about reaching your goals. It is about living and

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-89818756595371538582011-10-14T16:27:00.000-05:002011-10-14T16:27:06.573-05:00

There is nothing I love quite so much as homemade tater skins. I found a recipe for them in an old cookbook (wow! You can get them cheap!) my mom got when I was a young teen, and drove my mom nuts baking up all the potatoes in the house to make 'em. These are seasoned with dill, onion, and garlic. Yummy!!! Luckily for me, tater skins are the one thing I have never ruined while cooking. I don't

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-43014898230455722322011-10-13T11:09:00.000-05:002011-10-13T11:09:05.950-05:00

I definitely need more practice with this preserving thing. For years, my preserving skills have been limited to blanching and freezing. Just last season I overcame my fear of the pressure canner, and started doing some basic canning of plain vegetables. This year, I tried to be brave and branch out into apple pie filling in a jar and juicing apples, as well as canning the basics. Oh, goodness.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-73476455297909418652011-10-12T20:36:00.000-05:002011-10-12T20:36:42.908-05:00

Eight Years ago yesterday, I promised to love, honor, and cherish dear Mr. Barefoot till death do us part. And we haven't killed each other yet. Isn't that cool? To celebrate, we went out last weekend on our first date in... *ahem*.... years. We went out to a nice dinner. We went to a fun little tavern and watched a band we know. We even danced! It was fun. Thanks, Hon.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-74020735424798887502011-10-10T08:08:00.002-05:002011-10-10T08:08:00.201-05:00

Education is more than schooling. It is a cast of mind, a willingness to see the world with an endless sense of curiosity and wonder. If you would be truly educated, you must adopt this cast of mind. You must open yourself to the richness of your everyday experience--to your own emotions, to the movements of the heavens and the languages of birds, to the privations and successes of people in

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-87523834484761437802011-10-05T19:03:00.001-05:002011-10-05T19:04:54.287-05:00

...what I almost hit with my car on the way home from dropping the Sprouts off at church this evening. A bald eagle. No, I'm not kidding. The darn thing got so close to my windshield, I could almost taste the tail feathers. No, I'm not kidding. I don't know if I'm more scared, excited, or pissed at the suicidal bird.... And no, I'm not kidding. Hehe

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-75258224836128076792011-10-04T20:41:00.000-05:002011-10-04T20:41:38.256-05:00

I have already confessed how poorly the garden did for us (and how poorly we did for the garden) this year. Still, with cooler temperatures, and my new journey back to the land of light, I have been trying to salvage what I can of the growing season. Since it is autumn in MN, that means apples. Monday was picking day, and I so wish I had pictures to share with you of Little Sprout helping me

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-84385985459526183112011-10-03T08:01:00.008-05:002011-10-03T08:01:00.670-05:00

Photocredit The unhappiness we experience is not so much a result of the difficulties encountered along our journey as it is of our misperception of how life instructs us. We may see a failed relationship as an indictment of our self-worth when it is really a lesson in using better judgment, in valuing ourselves more, in expressing greater appreciation for our partner--lessons to prepare us for

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-1025309792413843722011-09-26T08:17:00.002-05:002011-09-26T08:17:00.413-05:00

PhotocreditWe ought to do good to others as simply and as naturally asa horse runs, or a bee makes honey, or a vine bears grapesseason after season without thinking of the grapes it has borne. Marcus Aurelius

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-33593221913653374562011-09-20T10:24:00.000-05:002011-09-20T10:24:56.631-05:00

My To-Do list is crazy-long. As in pages and pages, single spaced long. I would love to be the person who looks at her To-Do list and does a couple things a day, thereby having the joy of scratching off a few things a day. I am not that person. I am the person who does nothing - nothing at all - for days, then attempts to blast through the whole list in a weekend. This does not work well. In

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-64532948289319675372011-09-19T08:08:00.003-05:002011-09-19T08:08:00.854-05:00

Photocredit The universe is full of magical things patientlywaiting for our wits to grow sharper. Eden Phillpotts (also attributed to William Butler Yeats)

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-13828297322094304702011-09-18T07:04:00.001-05:002011-09-18T07:04:00.079-05:00

This year, for the second year in a row, was a disaster in the garden. There. I said it. There were the seed tapes (carefully pre-sprouted) that got pulled up by birds. The cold, wet spring meant late planting. My trellises weren't big enough for what I needed. Heavy rains repeatedly washed out my onions. The corn... well, it grew. I guess. The weather was too cool most of the year for my

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-7725254384536058112011-09-17T18:56:00.001-05:002011-09-17T19:04:07.475-05:00

The truth? The truth is I lost my way. For a long time. For a really long time. I would love to tell you about all the exciting adventures I had while I was gone, but even my immense imagination is not up to the task of transforming months of sitting on the couch with dust collecting on my nose into a story interesting enough to read. I would also love to tell you that I have returned to the

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-65755725644488834002011-06-15T20:05:00.001-05:002011-06-15T20:05:01.059-05:00

Late at night their mournfull call fills the night air. I am unable to read when this happens, and my cig is forgotten as I look out into the darkness. The song of the Loon rises from the lake, and something wild and free comes to life inside of me. In a way, I hate these moments. Something about the eerie sound makes me want to run. Go north. Go west. Go somewhere that streetlights and

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-31896199593410102362011-06-14T12:00:00.000-05:002011-06-14T12:00:46.719-05:00

Like so many gardeners, this year has been - so far - a trial, to say the least. Only about 50% of my bean seed germinated this year. Why? I'm not sure. Birds? Squirrels? Weather? Just a bad batch of seed? I'm pretty sure I can rule out human error, as I planted the same way I have every year (and had great germination). I just don't get it. Usually, this is the time of year that I am excited

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-90511826330655915302011-06-11T18:48:00.000-05:002011-06-11T18:48:40.833-05:00

It was the last day of school. Big Sprout came home, free for the summer, and ran to her room to pack. Yes, my friends, Big Sprout abandoned hearth and home the minute her academic responsibilities were over for the year. She took off with Uncle Wolfie for a weekend of "pest control". For 3 days, she woke before the sun in order to head out to the fields and kill prairie dogs under the hot South

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-78566213227312440562011-06-09T10:11:00.000-05:002011-06-09T10:11:01.130-05:00

UGH! Cool, wet spring during which not much could be planted in wrist deep mud. A short period of nice days followed by record setting heat and humidity (not to mention monster mosquitos) Now today it's downright chilly. And something pulled up my carrot seed tapes, just when they were all germinating and I was beginning to believe that this was to be the first year I would have pretty rows

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-40176823281283122102011-05-31T17:47:00.001-05:002011-05-31T18:10:45.115-05:00

We are expanding the veggie patch here at Barefoot Manor. Mr. Barefoot isn't liking the way the world is going, or my cooking with homegrown is getting better, or something completely unrelated has lit a fire under his backside regarding the need for cheap, sustainable food. Anyway, this means I have been spending my days off out in the yard, pulling up turf and setting up new raised beds. Today

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-83053391564487286522011-05-31T08:11:00.001-05:002011-05-31T09:21:05.544-05:00

"All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed." - Richard Adams, Watership Down As I mentioned before, we have rabbits in our yard. Last week, while Mr. Barefoot was

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-86719852499344602732011-05-18T13:00:00.002-05:002011-05-18T13:00:02.503-05:00

Mr. Barefoot finally got out and mowed the lawn! Between work/activity schedules and rain, the lawn had gotten terribly long. Little Sprout helped as I was raking up the clippings. They were just too long and heavy to be leaving in the yard! She worked for a while with her little toy rake, but when I took a break she decided that the little rake hurt her hands, and that she needed to use mine.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-1937529956002883372011-05-18T08:57:00.000-05:002011-05-18T08:57:21.994-05:00

My Mom and Dad took the Sprouts to Fawn-Doe-Rosa this past weekend. It was great, because I got stuck at work for an extra 2 hours, and Mr. Barefoot had band rehearsal. Instead of Big Sprout being stuck babysitting her little sister (which ALWAYS ends in fights and screaming), both girls got to spend a fun day with their beloved Grandparents, petting animals and running off their Sprout-energy.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-47748281806800863532011-05-14T21:04:00.000-05:002011-05-14T21:04:45.961-05:00

“That book you’ve been waiting for came.” Mr. Barefoot woke me with these simple words, waving a simple brown envelope at me from the doorway. “You wanna come out and help me unload the pork?” That’s Mr. Barefoot all the way. The object of many hours breathless anticipation arrives on my doorstep and, instead of joining me in the frantic joy of ripping open the plain packaging, he reminds me

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-77880697379712879582011-05-13T13:49:00.000-05:002011-05-13T13:49:03.354-05:00

Wednesday was Little Sprout's first AWANA award ceremony. She sang, she danced, she recited bible verses. It was fun to watch her doing something she enjoys so much. She is very proud of her certificate and little bear pin indicating she worked her way through the first book. I am glad she had so much fun this year, and hope that she doesn't have too much of a fit on Wed when she realizes there

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-7723831524091824772011-05-11T12:10:00.000-05:002011-05-13T15:43:07.703-05:00

Spring has come!! It's not just my blooming tulips and daffys that tell me spring is here. Last night I had to dodge frogs on their Yearly Spring Mating Migration. The frogs hop from one little pothole to another, crossing roads with reckless abandon. Driving on the roads near my work will actually become hazardous in a week or so. That's when the Migration will be at it's peak. There will be

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-18570562036570647032011-05-06T19:02:00.000-05:002011-05-06T19:02:52.118-05:00

Mr. Barefoot found an InStep Pathfinder for $40 at a garage sale this morning! Since he has lost so much weight, Mr. Barefoot has rediscovered a lost passion for biking. This has been problematic, as Little Sprout wants to join the "Grown-Ups" (including Big Sprout and Uncle Wolfie) on their bike trips. Her little legs and tiny bike just can't keep up, meaning she was always heartbroken to be

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-80156764865763087752011-05-04T09:05:00.000-05:002011-05-04T09:05:05.505-05:00

My tomato seedlings are doing well. I am sooo happy about that! I don't, as a rule, really have good luck starting my own seeds.  I start them early, or late, or don't have enough light. I overwater, or underwater, or the cat decides to eat them... y'know how it goes with gardening. Something always doesn't quite work out the way you planned. My pepper seeds are up, but they have stalled in their

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-781320747425149102011-05-03T19:34:00.000-05:002011-05-03T19:34:02.434-05:00

~...and that's all I have to say about that....~

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-53062697825060828042011-05-03T14:02:00.000-05:002011-05-03T14:02:37.194-05:00

Yesterday morning it snowed. Today, the sun is shining and the sky is so blue I find myself confused, wondering if I have somehow wandered into an old Technicolor movie. Little Sprout pestered me and fought me, screaming and demanding, until I took her outside. I don't know why it was so hard for her to convince me. All I can say is that I have been sinking deeper and deeper into the mudhole

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-44096345393061215712011-04-27T20:17:00.000-05:002011-04-27T20:17:44.956-05:00

It has snowed off and on all day today. Just thought you'd like to know. ~and that's all I have to say about that....~

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-5604283926737763452011-04-26T19:01:00.000-05:002011-04-26T19:01:16.160-05:00

My lovely, wonderful parents get my Sprouts subscriptions to NWF's children's magazines every year. Big Sprout gets Ranger Rick (though I suppose she is really too old for it, now), and Little Sprout gets Your Big Backyard. It's a big day when both magazines come at the same time. Both girls head off to separate corners with their mail and devour every picture and article. Little Sprout is fun,

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-23509936947573578722011-04-25T14:31:00.000-05:002011-04-25T14:31:29.917-05:00

Today was my first real day in the garden. There is so much to do, my mind is boggled, but I am so happy to be working in the dirt again! Working the soil was harder than I would have preferred, as I tried to chop my finger off opening a can of tomatoes late last week. I couldn't stand to keep my gloves on, but keeping the sore finger out of the dirt was troublesome, as well. I weeded and turned

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-29642344867587471522011-04-21T08:00:00.000-05:002011-04-21T08:00:04.425-05:00

I have been trying to figure out what "happened" to me. I used to be passionate about being "green". I used to be passionate about "prepping". I used to be passionate about planning the garden, mapping out what would go where and how much it would cost. I used to be passionate about my writing, spending hours playing with how words can be strung together in so many different ways. I used to be

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-65024090552546402072011-04-20T08:24:00.000-05:002011-04-20T08:24:14.787-05:00

 I have photographic proof that our crocus did bloom, and that there are other bulbs pushing their way up into the sunlight. They seem determined to announce Spring's arrival, thought Spring herself seems a bit shy. This morning, I woke to snow again. Again. Let me say that one more time: Again.  I know the snow won't last. It never does, this late in the year. And I am trying to be patient.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-6520890453653899132011-04-19T13:25:00.000-05:002011-04-19T13:25:55.516-05:00

Spring was here... for two days. Then she went away, and we have been having cold, blustery weather since. I'm not fussing too much, because this is just how spring comes to MN. It's kinda fun to wonder every day if you are going to get warmth or have snow and freezing rain spit in your face. Now that the snow is gone, I can relax in the confidence that warmer days will come.... eventually. I am

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-21404910446238210502011-04-18T19:11:00.000-05:002011-04-18T19:11:54.144-05:00

Spring is a time of waiting... and watching... and hoping... and waiting some more. There is a breathless sense of anticipation. Every morning, I thrill to see the sun coming up a little earlier. I am constantly scanning the fields and woods as I drive to and from work, taking note of which bushes and trees have put on some new growth of buds or brightly colored bark. I sit at the window and

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-1475571688977111432011-04-09T21:18:00.000-05:002011-04-09T21:18:22.582-05:00

Yesterday, while Little Sprout and I were at Dad's place, the crocus bloomed. I think this is the first year we have had the crocus bloom, which is odd, because the tulips and daffodils always have. Hmmm... It was beautiful. I mean really, really beautiful. Little Sprout was so excited, I thought she was going to bust right out of her skin! I took pictures, being the geek I am, but I can't

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-69081741373964224252011-04-07T08:10:00.002-05:002011-04-07T08:10:00.472-05:00

Photocredit I love onions. I love garlic, too, but onions are my first love. I will eat them raw, fried, baked, deep fried with delicious beer batter on them. Onions go with everything (well, with the exception of the pb&j). I have had wonderful lunches made with nothing more than a thick slice of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a slice of onion. I like 'em in my taters, I like 'em in my beans. I

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-13763642709960529512011-04-06T10:40:00.000-05:002011-04-06T10:40:20.194-05:00

PhotocreditThe last year has been hard. My world has gradually reduced to the smallest point possible, that of dealing with what is right in front of me, and letting the rest of life flow by unnoticed. I can blame my work schedule, and the exhaustion that comes with it. I can blame a disease, and say I am just going through a cycle of "down". I can blame a world that is more about "get" and "

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-84791087012540881702011-04-05T11:11:00.000-05:002011-04-05T11:11:02.450-05:00

For weeks, I have been watching out my window, knowing that Spring is fickle here in the Frozen North, praying that this time the snow would disappear for real. Today, the snow is mostly gone. The front yard is still mostly covered, but the back yard (sheltered by trees) is mostly clear. I went outside, knowing that it would still be chilly but needing to feel the sun on my skin. Barefoot as I

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-56572850106832073462011-04-01T09:13:00.000-05:002011-04-01T09:13:12.661-05:00

I looked out the window yesterday, and saw (for the first time since fall) a small bit of the path on the south side of the house free of snow. Today, the sound of water dripping off the roof was the first thing I heard when I opened my eyes. I think Spring might have finally found its way to my little corner of the world! I am hopinghopinghoping that soon I will be able to see grass growing,

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-86665548871229121062011-03-30T14:28:00.000-05:002011-03-30T14:28:56.514-05:00

I have had only a few hours sleep... maybe 5?... since Monday morning. I can always tell when I have been up too long, because everything just seems to go wrong. This morning, I somehow managed to stab myself in the chest with the plug for the electric mixer at work. I am impatient with Little Sprout, and she has chosen today of all days to watch a really stupid "Christmas Classics" movie on

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-9667565314884218622011-03-23T09:50:00.000-05:002011-03-23T09:50:25.841-05:00

Minnesotans have their own brand of crazy. I'm not kidding. This morning, I headed out at 5am to visit a grocery store 30 miles away. Hey, there was a monster sale going on! It's important! The problem (as I found when I woke) was that after a steady rain, the temps dropped and the rain turned to snow. The roads were icy, and covered with several inches of snow on top of the ice. In front of

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-61676902996662007562011-03-21T14:10:00.000-05:002011-03-21T14:10:10.541-05:00

Have you ever felt the weight of a passionate need so great that it seems it will crush you? Have you ever abandoned yourself to the wild desperation, and feared that your human body is not strong enough to withstand the strength of what you feel? Have you ever had your heart break over a perfect sunset, or wanted to feel the weight of a golden sunbeam falling through emerald leaves in the

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-10286642674628325982011-03-20T09:41:00.001-05:002011-03-20T09:43:07.700-05:00

The Moon wasn’t quite full yet when the coyotes’ yips and yowls tore through the night. I had been standing on the stoop, lost in a book of trashy deliciousness when I heard the first yelping cry. My head jerked up hard enough to actually hurt my poor neck muscles, and chills shivered down my spine as the rapidly swelling chorus of coyote song filled the night. Just for a moment, every nasty

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-10354229666138471832011-03-04T09:48:00.000-06:002011-03-04T09:48:18.249-06:00

This morning, Little Sprout was begging for attention in her usual single-minded fashion. As she arched back over the arm of the couch, I couldn't resist the temptation to tickle her belly. She straightened up with a scream, and (shaking her finger in my face) told me with utmost seriousness that her belly button is NOT a toy. *sigh* Little Sprout has also been obsessed with death. I am not

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-84349043163952728502011-03-03T08:04:00.000-06:002011-03-03T08:04:16.839-06:00

March is a month of snow here in the Great Frozen North of MN. It is an especially difficult month for those of us Minnesotans who are active (yes, I still consider myself active) in the bloggy world, because we have friends from all over. Those friends from warmer areas are out there blogging pictures of their gardens starting to wake, and the ugly green monster called jealousy rears it's ugly

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-61139720823688695572011-02-20T10:15:00.001-06:002011-02-20T10:15:00.544-06:00

(Insert picture of my lovely daughter, who is terribly camera shy, here) 12 years ago, after hours of my whining and moaning, you came into this world with a cry of rage. I suppose it was a bit uncomfortable - heck, even embarassing - to come into this world nekkid with half a dozen people looking at you. But that's your fault. If you didn't wanna be nekkid and cold, you shoulda put a sweater on

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-65379135513440050672011-02-14T12:39:00.000-06:002011-02-14T12:39:47.336-06:00

I am a planner. I always, always, have several grand plans floating around in my brain for projects. I am not so great when it comes to actually following through on those plans. I have quite the arsenal of excuses. I work odd hours, meaning I am sleeping when I could be working. I have Little Sprout hanging on me at all times. I am tired. I don't have the money. I don't have the time. So and So

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-16268433435474575202011-02-13T10:08:00.000-06:002011-02-13T10:08:35.048-06:00

Things are warming up here in my little corner of MN, and though I know that there will be snow and cold days to come before we can truly say "Spring is Here!!!", I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. With warmer weather has come a burst of creativity, and I am finding myself retreating more and more to the work room with boxes of beads and findings and making jewelry, or

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-66883216662387467632011-02-11T15:18:00.000-06:002011-02-11T15:18:34.745-06:00

We got the call this morning that Grandma Jo left this world. I can just see her, sitting at the breakfast table, looking at another breakfast of rubbery pancakes and limp bacon or lumpy, lukewarm oatmeal ~ remembering the wonderful meals she used to cook for her family and loved ones ~ and deciding that enough was enough. I am told she laid her head down on the table and just.... died. Grandma

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-1265421655874345482011-01-25T16:01:00.000-06:002011-01-25T16:01:01.060-06:00

Jim is gone. I got behind on checking the blogs I follow. I decided to get caught up today, and a reference to his leaving this world was one of the first posts I saw. And all I can say is "aw, shit". Funny thing is, I didn't even know him in real life. I don't think I have commented on his blog in over a year, really. I don't have any right to feel this sense of loss. But I do. His writing

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-5308837933437046452011-01-24T22:11:00.000-06:002011-01-24T22:11:39.665-06:00

No, I don't let Big Sprout leave the house looking like ^ that. She doesn't even want to be seen with (the dreaded) makeup on. Isn't she wonderful?! This is just a pic I took after dolling her up for an 80's theme party. Well, wonderful or not, she is gone for a few days. Off with her class to a conservation camp in Northern MN, leaving me alone and bereft. I know she will have a lot of fun,

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-54845562402327374432011-01-23T08:00:00.002-06:002011-01-23T08:00:07.630-06:00

Sometimes, Little Sprout has it right. When I am fretting, and getting upset over things, she will come up to me so carefully and lay her hands on my cheeks with very uncharacteristic gentleness. She will look me directly in the eyes and say “Just breathe, Mom. I want you to be brave!” Yeah, it’s kinda sad to have to take advice from a 4 year old. She has a point, though. Breathing is pretty

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-65677563992087879442011-01-22T08:00:00.001-06:002011-01-22T08:00:05.271-06:00

Frugality is a good thing. It is wonderful to be able to save money and still have things that you need, use and love. But there is a price to be paid for that. To be frugal, sometimes you have to get things that need a little tweaking here and there. Sometimes being frugal means picking up that special something that is on sale (or better yet, free!), and holding on to it until you have the

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-7069362090594760582011-01-21T08:00:00.001-06:002011-01-21T08:00:05.642-06:00

According to the calendar, the days are supposed to be getting longer. The Sun is supposed to show it’s face a little more every day, and Spring is supposed to be on it’s way. The calendar obviously has never lived in Minnesota. I fall into that trap every year. I get so excited on Winter Solstice, thinking that once the Darkest Day has passed that it will be a quick slide through the next

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-5679447063764607342011-01-20T14:06:00.002-06:002011-01-20T14:06:24.290-06:00

Have you ever watched kids in a deep pool trying to catch beach balls? The kids bob in the water, doing that jump-hop-swim we all seem to learn when we have to stand on tippy-toes to keep our head above the water. Beach balls bob in the water, just out of reach. Little fingers touch the wet surface, almost… almost close enough to get a firm grip. Instead, the ball rolls… twists… floats away.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-74835348602254784072011-01-01T18:08:00.001-06:002011-01-01T18:09:30.586-06:00

We sit together, Teacher and I, and watch out her dining room windows. At 100 years old, she has looked out these same windows at the same fields for 80 of those years. She never seems to tire of the view, talking of years long gone and watching the birds as they flit from feeder to lilac to tree and back. Teacher has fed her children at this same table, and her grand-children. Now she looks at

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-60412200030044815432010-12-21T14:53:00.000-06:002010-12-21T14:53:53.494-06:00

It keeps snowing here in my part of MN. I wouldn't mind, if I could stay inside where it's warm, but it seems to want to snow on nights that I work. That means that, not only do I have to leave my nice cozy house to head off to work, but I have to go outside and shovel all the white muck while I am there. Icky. I really don't get paid enough. I came home this morning and was treated to a

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-461967518228193122010-12-16T13:18:00.000-06:002010-12-16T13:18:26.260-06:00

Photocredit Today I saw a Bald Eagle soaring over the road while I was driving home from the folks' place. Even though I see them often (living in a river town will do that for ya, and find me a town in MN that isn't a river town) it never fails to amaze me how beautiful they are in flight.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-64968716272177084542010-12-14T17:33:00.000-06:002010-12-14T17:33:49.551-06:00

I look at the calendar, then look again. It is so hard to believe that I have left this blog unattended for more than a month! In truth, though, there has been so little to say. Anything I would have written here would have been a waste of my time to write, and your time to read. Really. Even now, there is so little to say. Mr. Barefoot has had a birthday since I last checked in. He also had

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-69100508605574211162010-10-25T10:19:00.000-05:002010-10-25T10:19:12.052-05:00

The other day, I found a new notebook for myself. It was sitting there on the end cap, the last of it's kind, with a beautiful design on the front. I couldn't help it. I brought it home. I have this passion for empty notebooks, journals, and diaries. All those fresh, unmarked pages just waiting to be filled with whatever I choose. It's magic. Each new page is a beginning. A chance to record

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-7352988258839199192010-10-24T01:24:00.002-05:002010-10-24T01:24:00.197-05:00

Has it been 4 years already? It has. My goodness. You are getting old, little one! Don't worry. Four years old isn't exactly "over the hill".... yet.Just think! You are one year closer to being able to play with makeup....and picking out your own clothes.Just don't ever take yourself too seriously, okay? Well, I guess I don't have to worry about that, do I?

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-14292576826362757882010-10-19T19:37:00.000-05:002010-10-19T19:37:52.983-05:00

I scratched the lens of my glasses today. They slipped through clumsy morning fingers, hitting the bed frame on their way to the floor. I have spent my whole day trying to look around the thing that is right in front of my face. I saw beauty anyway.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-73846961639943740532010-10-18T21:51:00.000-05:002010-10-18T21:51:38.187-05:00

Little Sprout is enchanted by the thought of sleeping trees. I think I am, too. Raccoons are active in the woods at work. I had forgotten how big they really are. There is one, in particular, that isn't afraid to come into the circle of light around the front stoop. He waddles by, closer every night, looking at me over his shoulder as if to say "I am not afraid of you. I am over here because I

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-14561252859255066162010-10-06T11:24:00.000-05:002010-10-06T11:24:12.906-05:00

It's gorgeous outside, and I am sitting here in front of the 'puter instead of out there enjoying it. The reason is actually better than it sounds: I am saving my energy. I got called into work last night. Another staff quit without giving any notice, and we are all scrambling to cover her hours. That means that I am running on very little sleep (like that is anything new, huh?) and have a

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-43285950453716176012010-10-04T21:34:00.000-05:002010-10-04T21:34:46.209-05:00

I spent some time in the garden at the folks' place today. I pulled the last of the carrots, found a squash we had missed earlier in the season, and did some major cleanup. The best part of the day, though, was realising that a good portion of our free raspberry canes are fall producers. Those things were loaded down with berries, and (miraculously) the birds had left them alone! Little Sprout

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-2162774193579978692010-10-03T19:26:00.000-05:002010-10-03T19:26:05.643-05:00

This is Big Sprout's geese she got with one shot during the early season for goose a couple weeks ago. This weekend, the official opener, she left with Uncle Wolfie on Friday and came home today with supper. Two geese, two ducks, and a coot were here take for the weekend spent out in the duck boat. I don't have the pic for this weekend yet, cuz I have to get them from Mr. Barefoot's cell to the '

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-62597161095525902212010-09-28T12:05:00.000-05:002010-09-28T12:05:07.802-05:00

Oh, where to start?! Well, the lost crochet hooks have been found. Mr. Barefoot, that lovable man, found them under the couch of all places (evidently I didn't pull it out far enough when I looked there months ago) while looking for my keys. The keys, unfortunately, were not under the couch. They were in my purse, if you can believe that. It was a crazy moment for me. There I was, frantic to

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-82590900443580472042010-09-16T14:07:00.003-05:002010-09-16T16:48:51.399-05:00

I have been crocheting steadily ever since finishing my last cross-stitch pattern, Woodland Enchantress. I have done baby blankets and snowflakes, and basically just putzed around with my hooks and the vast yarn stash I have in the back room.Now, I am feeling the need to go back to my cross stitch. Silly, when I think about it. I should crochet in the winter months, when my work in progress can

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-32190864386803806802010-09-12T13:45:00.003-05:002010-09-12T14:15:35.324-05:00

There is a bakery in the neighboring town. We call it, simply, The Bakery. You can actually hear the capitals when someone says it, as if it is the only bakery to ever be in existence, or the only bakery worthy of the name. It has another name, but we have never used it… at least not in my family. It is a simple place. Two storefronts on the main street, with the wall knocked out in between them.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-56937837202479038912010-08-31T12:19:00.003-05:002010-08-31T12:42:57.200-05:00

Last night, Lightning woke his brother Thunder by flashing the lights in his room repeatedly. "Come play with me!" he cried, bouncing with barely contained energy. Thunder mumbled and grumbled as he rolled over and covered his head with the pillow. "I don't wanna play" he replied, "I was having such a nice dream, and you wrecked it. Now GO AWAY!"Lightning, like most little brothers, continued to

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-29194654350358419622010-08-29T22:16:00.002-05:002010-08-29T22:42:24.784-05:00

I have never before had the honor of a hummingbird guest. I don't even have feeders for them. This one seemed to enjoy my impatiens just fine. What is it about hummingbirds that is so magical? Monarch butterflies have been hanging around, as well. Somehow, it is peaceful to see these fragile seeming creatures. My favorite moment was seeing the chickadees at the bird bath outside the dining room

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-18875716458764540462010-08-20T19:38:00.002-05:002010-08-20T19:43:45.863-05:00

Alright, folks. I know some of you readers out there are fellow "stitchers". Whether it is knitting, crocheting, macrame, or whatever... I know you're out there.Go. Look. Too Funny.The woman takes those old patterns you find in the church rummage sales ~ you know the ones, the patterns that the 98 yr old church granny has had in her stash since 1920 ~ puts them up, and makes fun of them!It sounds

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-63106064559404317962010-08-19T23:32:00.002-05:002010-08-19T23:41:55.463-05:00

Today, two monarch butterflies were playing in my back yard. I wondered if, just perhaps, they were the two that the Sprouts released a few weeks ago.I know they weren't, the odds are very much against such a coincidence, but it was a nice little fancy.I watched two young squirrels chase each other around the yard, jumping on the swing set and each other.I did laundry, I cleaned house, I put

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-55446732974114946562010-08-15T18:33:00.002-05:002010-08-15T19:02:16.782-05:00

Shortly after writing my last post, I learned that a dear young gal I know (and would even call a friend, but don't tell anyone) had just found out that her 3 yr old son has a brain tumor. It's cancer. The doc's aren't hopeful.It threw me for a loop, to say the least.I spent days trying to figure out how to deal with the situation. Not what could I do, just how could I cope. While fighting to

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-85397788176112039052010-08-02T20:21:00.002-05:002010-08-02T20:58:51.817-05:00

Sometimes, I wake up and realise that I have wandered off the path. I can see where I want to be, but it is so far off. There is a wilderness of dangers between here and there, and I doubt my courage. I doubt my strength. I wonder if it is even worth it to fight my way back.I know that here is a bad place. It is scary, and dark. I know that I will not be able to survive here very long. But here

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-65483313882264978562010-07-26T15:44:00.005-05:002010-07-26T16:44:30.536-05:00

Note: I have read all the books, so I do know how the storyends, and how this all works out. Stephenie Meyer does have the right to writeher story any which way she wants. I reserve the right todisagree.Warning: If you haven't seen these, or read the books, and wantto... don't read this post. I might wreck it for ya. K, folks. I admit it. I am a Twilight fan. I resisted as long as I could, but

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-11700745887328871922010-07-22T16:48:00.002-05:002010-07-22T17:00:48.768-05:00

Yesterday, the utilities company shut off our power for 4 hours. Not because I didn't pay the bill, or anything. Really. They said they had to "update the transformer" or some silly thing like that.Today, a man from the utilities came knocking on my door. He wanted permission to cut down the trees on our East property line, as the trees are growing up through the power lines.Of course I said it

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-64226029147309623972010-07-21T21:43:00.005-05:002010-07-21T22:18:41.131-05:00

Today the Sprouts released two Monarch butterflies after watching them go from stripy little caterpillars to cocoons and, finally, to brilliant orange and black beauties.Big Sprout definitely took a more scholarly approach to the endeavor. She read the instructions carefully on how to care for her 'pillar, and glowed with quiet satisfaction when the entire process went exactly as described.For

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-44717393735886147772010-07-18T15:15:00.003-05:002010-07-19T19:55:29.514-05:00

Saturday I was canning beans when the storms came through. Mom and Dad were over - Mom to help with the canning, and Dad to enjoy the Grandsprouts. I was watching the pressure gauge on the canner when the sirens went off, and someone turned on the TV to find out what in the world was going on. Brats were on the grill, and corn on the cob was boiling on the stovetop. It was dark, but not even

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-41182007729878028482010-07-10T19:21:00.002-05:002010-07-10T19:35:18.550-05:00

I have to go back to school. Yes, I am one of the uneducated masses in this country, and I have known for a long time that I need a degree of some sort if I am going to be able to retire at any age before 90.So I am looking at schools, and trying to figure out how I can fit classes into my schedule. Worse, I am trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.It's harder than it sounds.

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-22677412323822116252010-07-05T12:21:00.002-05:002010-07-05T12:31:29.742-05:00

Have you ever wondered why perfectly normal and intelligent children sometimes do incredibly ridiculous things?So do I.Today, I was treated to the joy of removing a pearly pink pony bead from Little Sprout's nose. It was a good thing that plugging the opposite nostril and telling her to blow hard was sufficient to shoot that little thing across the room, as I am unsure where the tweezers are.When

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-39240367393922635172010-06-30T18:17:00.003-05:002010-06-30T18:21:50.121-05:00

The Sprouts have been squealing with either joy or rage all day.Little Sprout doesn't like her wardrobe choices, and keeps trying to change.Big Sprout doesn't see the need for any kind of personal hygiene, and is very frustrated with my insistence on clean Sprouts.Now Mighty Cat has usurped my place on the bed.Somehow, work is looking like a place I really do want to be after all....

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28932372.post-7793886444787685072010-06-29T21:47:00.002-05:002010-06-29T21:57:27.793-05:00

I remember, when Mr. Barefoot and I first moved into that drafty and charming house that was to become our first home, how I used to get home with Big Sprout (then just Sprout) before anyone else was home. I would light all the candles I had around the living room, put on the classical music station, and Big Sprout and I would cuddle on the couch. Sometimes we would talk about her day, but mostly

barefoot gardenernoreply@blogger.com1