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Because if there is, this one has it. (Sorry about the second photoblog post today. I’m testing something.)

Dear Winter,
Please accept my heartfelt apology for yesterday’s post.

Turning all my calendars impatiently to March was an unfortunate lapse in judgment on my part.

I didn’t really mean to trick you or mess with your head or push you into therapeutic medication.

I was trying to be funny, but I understand that humor is subjective.
I want to apologize to the birds, too.

And the goats.

And especially the sheep because they look pretty angry and I’m scared of them.

I will also apologize to the chickens whenever they can be coaxed out of their house again.
I am sincerely regretful of my behavior and duly chastened by the snow you have dumped upon us in response. I will only treat you with the utmost respect henceforth. Let’s just turn all the calendars back to February and forget this ever happened.
Love and kisses,
Suzanne
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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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