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Princess swinging on a rope into the swimming hole in the Pocatalico River by our farm.
Is there a more perfect expression of the freedom and joy of childhood than jumping, fully clothed and not caring, into a river on a summer day?
Posted by Suzanne McMinn on July 2, 2007
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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....
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"Cookies are good." Read my barnyard stories....
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