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.





Tuesday, May 26, 2015

A Beautiful Sight...

 
It's no secret that we had a long, cold winter. We had some concern that we might not have much of an apple crop this year.
 
Well, well, well...just looky here! These blooms tell a different story :) Every tree bloomed its little heart out. Just goes to show, what do we know about anything? Nature, if anything, is always surprising.
 
 
 
 
When I left for a trip to Florida earlier this month, the trees were barren in the still cold and drizzly Ohio climate, despite being early May. Winter just did not want to give in.

Gazing upon these fragrant blooms the morning after I returned gave me a sense of what Dorothy must have felt like when she opened her farmhouse door and stepped into the Technicolor world of Oz.

 
 
This lovely poem by Susan Kelly-Dewitt expresses how wonderful it is to see blossoms after a long winter:
 

Apple Blossoms

One evening in winter
when nothing has been enough,
when the days are too short,
 
the nights too long
and cheerless, the secret
and docile buds of the apple
 
blossoms begin their quick
ascent to light. Night
after interminable night

the sugars pucker and swell
into green slips, green
silks. And just as you find

yourself at the end
of winter’s long, cold
rope, the blossoms open

like pink thimbles
and that black dollop
of shine called
 
bumblebee stumbles in.
 
 
Marcheta *stumbling in