strawberry rhubarb

Six thirty am. Every window wide open. I turn the radio off and the house fills with bird song. Fynn lazes on…

Every year as farm stands display their first crop of local strawberries, I’m catapulted back in time. The girls were seven years…

Rhubarb crisp after it’s been raining for days. Not a warm Spring rain, more of a stings your face because it’s so…