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A while back, I asked for help in supporting this site. Many of you responded, in a variety of ways. Some of you sent money. Some of you sent lovely, handmade things for me, and even for my children, to brighten my day. Some of you (many of you) sent words of encouragement, either in emails or comments or letters. Quite a few of you offered awesome ideas for home businesses and other job possibilities. (If you’re interested in perusing these for yourself, see the comments on this post–there are GREAT ideas there!) Some of you who live nearby helped me in other ways, directly. One note that was sent to me with a donation said (and I kept all of them!), “This is just because I believe in you and your talents.” How amazing is that? Another letter read, in part, “I suspect you underestimate your influence and I aspire to your level of courage.” Me? Courage? Influence? I am absolutely humbled.
I have a number of goals for my blog, but underpinning them all is a passion to do something that matters in the world, that touches people, that entertains people, that inspires people. If I can do that even in a small way, nothing would make me happier. For the most part, I find that you all touch me, entertain me, and inspire me. Sometimes it is midnight before I get my post done for the next day because I’m so busy, but just when I think I’m too tired to post, I think of all of you and that if you aren’t too busy to come, I can’t be too busy or too tired to make sure there is something new here when you arrive. I hope, eventually, this site will actually sustain itself financially, but even when it does not (and with the current state of the economy, cannot), I love doing it, and your incredible acts of kindness are deeply appreciated.
And so, with your encouragement holding me back from filling out the application for McDonald’s that my son brought home to me, I want you to know what came of your suggestions and support. First, I developed some immediate, if small, cash flow by starting to sell baked goods, just by word of mouth. Second, I began developing a new concept for a book based on my blog, contacted an editor in New York, and got a request for a full proposal package, which I’m working on. (This process will take some time, and I can’t go into details now, but when/if I have news, you’ll be the first to know!) Third, I was offered a column based on my blog in the Charleston Daily Mail. My column will appear in the newspaper every other Monday, starting January 5th. (The column will also be available online.) I’ll be writing some freelance feature articles for them, too.
I wish I could mention every single person who has helped me, in the past several weeks and over the entire past year, but that would be impossible. I do want to name a few: Bryan Stealey from Racer X Illustrated, who not only encouraged me to try one more time to approach the media but also (quite tirelessly) showed me how to do it right, directly resulting in the July feature story about my blog in the Charleston Daily Mail; Monica Orosz, who wrote a great article that was picked up by the Associated Press all over the state and who then took back up her fairy wand to offer me the column in the Daily Mail; Jerry Waters, former radio broadcaster and Bridge Day founder, who has, generously and behind the scenes, promoted me and my site; and my good friends and fellow local small farmers Kathy Russell and Pete and Missy Prescott, who have helped me in innumerable ways. I also want to thank Fused Network, my domain hosting service, who gives a farmgirl with more traffic than she can afford to support a break, and my creative genius website designer, Emily, who has also given me a break many times and who makes this website work. I want to mention about a hundred more people, but I had better stop. I am blessed by each one of you, and because of your encouragement and support, I am struggling a little bit less than I was a month ago and I am following my dreams.

Thank you.
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
No Sugar in These Honey Muffins
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