Who We Are

The past few years, the area where I live, Crawford County, Ohio, has seen a wonderful explosion of younger families who are embracing the joys and challenges of living off the land. Because of them, amazing things are happening which have been embraced by our community. Farmer’s markets have been created and on-farm stores have opened. Families dedicated to growing organic produce and naturally raised meats are meeting the public’s needs for locally raised foods. And at the heart of this movement are the women.

Ohio Country Journal is my attempt to share the essence of farm life, focusing on, but not limited to, women. My goal is to bring you into our circle of friendship by inviting you to share your stories and experiences with us. You don’t have to be a full time country woman to benefit from joining us; you just have to be you.

The full-time country women featured in Ohio Country Journal are an inspiration to anyone who dares to follow her dreams, whether it is to live in the country or to bring the country life-style to their urban neighborhoods.

Thursday, January 31, 2013

When Icicles Hang

After January Thaw, Second Chapter, our temps plummeted about 30 degrees. 22f is not necessarily horrible....unless....
it comes with high winds like we woke up to this morning.

We've sealed up every nook and cranny possible in this old farmhouse, but it insists on being drafty. My fingers positively feel like icicles as I sit and type!

Electric space heaters help the furnace along (but not our budget) and we are comfortable enough, but bitter weather like this gives me pause to think about people who are not as lucky, and about how people in times gone by managed in weather so cold that it seems downright wicked.

William Shakespeare knew such winter weather and described it well when he wrote As You Like It:

Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.


Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Marcheta *not feeling so jolly

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