Peevish Pen

Ruminations on reading, writing, rural living, retirement, aging—and sometimes cats. And maybe a border collie or other critters.

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Location: Rural Virginia, United States

I'm an elderly retired teacher who writes. Among my books are Ferradiddledumday (Appalachian version of the Rumpelstiltskin story), Stuck (middle grade paranormal novel), Patches on the Same Quilt (novel set in Franklin County, VA), Them That Go (an Appalachian novel), Miracle of the Concrete Jesus & Other Stories, and several Kindle ebooks.

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Sign of Spring

Recently, an important sign of spring appeared. It wasn't the first greening of the willow tree.

It wasn't the peach tree blooms.

Nor the blooms on the cherry tree.

It wasn't the burst of golden forsythias.

Nor the appearance of the first skunk on the lawn.

It was this sign—declaring that the hens at the former dairy farm in Union Hall were laying again.

Naturally, we stopped and bought some. These fresh-from-the-free-range-hens eggs are large and rich. They taste so much better than grocery store eggs.

While the sign said "brown eggs," they come in many colors.




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