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Saturday morning, Mike and Kathy from the sheep farm called to say, “We have a baby for you.”
Oh my.
But it’s not this baby.

Or that baby.

Or– Did you see the little black baby?

It’s not any of these babies.

Mrs. Ewe: “You’re not taking my baby!”

I’m not, I promise!
Not yours, either!

Stop worrying girls. Let’s synchronize. To the left…..

To the right….

Okay, never mind. I see you’ve got your wool in a twist now. I’m not talking about any of your babies! You are all good mamas!
I’m talking about this baby. She’s just two days old and she’s living in the sheep farmers’ house because she’s had trouble nursing with mama. She drinks from a bottle and she wears diapers. In a few months, I’ll get to bring her home.

Meet Annabelle……tomorrow!
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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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