I should be used to it by now. It happens every August when the pasture dries up and the lambs start working holes in the fence. I arrive home and find two of them grazing the “long pasture,” which is a term the neighbours use to describe any roadside ditch contiguous to a farm. Two lambs turn into thirty if corrective steps aren’t taken, so I move the whole flock to the … [Read more...]

For the past 30 years I’ve made a living writing about rural Canada, which is a bit odd considering I am an immigrant to this patch of ground I call home. I’m an American immigrant for my sins. I am descended from two families of peasant farmers who fled across the Atlantic in the 1600s in search of free land and spent the next three centuries roaming North America trying to … [Read more...]