The Crooked Little Hen’s paramour, Mr. Hyde, hard at work doing….nothing…..from his porch perch overlooking the goat yard.
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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....
Make friends, ask questions, have fun!
Prints and Free Wallpaper!
And she's ornery. Read my barnyard stories!
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