One of my favorite things about living in the country is that there are no rules. For instance: if you have a dead tree in your yard that you want removed, you can just set it on fire. I could never have done that when I lived in a downtown neighborhood in Georgia.
After years of dreaming of owning a little farm, we found a “fixer upper” 1893 farmhouse and barn on about 5 acres and jumped at the chance to start a new adventure. We named it Bryarton Farm to represent that God wired both my husband and I as artists. With the letters A R T at the heart of the name it seemed to spell out our dream perfectly.
bucket bath
With the upstairs bathroom completely gutted and the downstairs bathroom still in it’s original state of “yuck” we had no way to wash Cami Grace (when Michael or I take a shower we can stand up wearing flip flops and shower in the moldy tub). Solution: buy a $4 ice bucket and bathe her outside so she can splash to her heart’s content. (more…)
We love it out here on the Kansas prairie. The wide open fields ensure the most breath taking panoramic sun rises and sun sets. It’s a lot like seeing them at the beach. At night the stars seem to multiply and shine brighter undaunted by city lights. We have only the birds singing and the wind blowing the trees to listen to. (more…)
We have lived on the farm for three weeks or so now and I still feel like we’re just getting started. There is not one room in the farmhouse that is completely settled. A few rooms are painted but have no lights. Some rooms have no floors, while others (like the kitchen) have no floor, ceiling or walls.
