Grow Little Chickens Grow, Grow!!

I can’t believe I’m actually saying this- but I enjoy helping Em with her chickens.

📸 credit: Kerry

If you remember, I have had a longtime phobia of poultry (complete story here ) so the fact that I’m able to wade through 60,000 birds at a time without heart-attacking is shocking in itself.

And the fact that I actually am enjoying it- will miracles ever cease?!

The Weavers got birds earlier this week, so in the early mornings you’ll catch me in my chicken boots, walking through the flock- keeping an eye out for birds who are sick, or injured, or that have passed away.

(Farmer Em here tending her flock)

As I amble along, I beat on a bucket to keep the little rascals out from under my feet. Or I shout encouraging things to get them to move (“Outa my way, chicken nuggets!” seems to get the desired results) and occasionally I’ll burst forth in song- that really makes them scatter.

Years ago we had a 6 year old Fresh Air boy from NYC and my parents taught him this inspirational children’s song:

Sing little children, Sing, Sing

Sing little children, Sing!

God is good- He cares for you,

Sing little children, Sing!

(Damon and I in 1987)

Apparently Damon really got into this song and before they knew what had happened he even wrote his own verses “Burp little children Burp, Burp- God is good, He cares for you…”

Today, as I was marching along, my mind was racing as I prayed over different things that have been on my heart recently and suddenly I did like my friend Damon and my own verse to this song popped into my head:

“Grow Little Chickens, Grow, Grow!

Grow Little Chickens, Grow!

God is good He cares for You

Grow Little Chickens, Grow!”

And the lightbulb clicked on in my brain.

“Are not five [chickens] sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not; you are of more value than many [chickens].” Luke 12:6-7

I don’t know what’s heavy on your heart today- but I do know- the same God who watches and provides for the millions and millions of fowl around here, cares about me so specially He even number the hairs on my head.

I am chosen. I am loved. I am cared for.

God is good, He cares for ME!

Sing, Little Children, Sing!!!


Bonus Pics:

A continued sore throat has kept me away from my little friends- but at least my pic feed is adorable these days 💞 💞

I call this one “Mess with my Brother, and I’ll mess with your face” 😂😂💞💞:


The big hospital doors swung open, and Big Papa strolled confidently through. Carrying a 4 lb 14 ozish package in each hand. (📸 credit: Julia)

The future awaits.

These days are filled with baby snuggles for those of us who haven’t succumbed to the flu.

We love that Isaiah Stan (on the left) favors his great Grandad Stanley Horst. And Uriah Ray (on the right) is a little Sherman Ray II.

The boys are doing well- hungry little beavers, who are growing to be mighty men.

This super excited Grandfather is trying to break them in slowly- he only scheduled one business call for them to sit in on for yesterday’s visit. He’s been exploring their preferences as far as trucks go, and who wants to run the cutter, or the combine. But so far- he doesn’t have a work commitment from them. They just watch him with big solemn eyes.

Grandmother Rhodes at 91 is exciting meet her second set of Great-Grands. (📸 credit: Sherman)

Mother found a verse in Psalms while thinking about these little blessings and what their future will be. A promise to all of us: For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulnescontinues through all generations. Ps 100:5

Our hearts (and hands) are full.

Thank you, Jesus!

Aunt Ken

The Wait is Over

“Our family Christmas is December 23 this year” my mom announced.

“Who has Christmas Day?” I wasn’t trying to challenge the game plan, but I’m learning that special holidays have to be shared with the increase of in-laws and conflicting schedules.

“Nobody” mother said “but Julia’s been thinking all along that she’s going to be in the hospital by Christmas. In fact Sherm is convinced the twins are coming on December 25. So Jul requested that if she’s still at home on Monday, that we celebrate early.”

Monday night was a wonderful time. The guys provided crab legs for the feast and other than Em discovering that her shrimp allergy now includes crab legs (😭) the meal was relaxed and wonderful. We enjoyed uninterrupted time of family.

We moved downstairs to the family room and relaxed around the fire for our gift exchange. I love these people. Soon Nate had his brand new record player clicking and whirling and Sherm had his bear hide that Em had tanned to surprise him spread out over the floor. I sat my coffee cup on the cedar end table that Jul had made me and smiled at the chaos. I thought about the changes we’ll be facing soon as we thoughtlessly discarded wrapping paper on the floor in our haste to discover what the package contained (clearly not worried about who was going to chew on potentially harmful plastic bags) Ah yes, Family time is precious.

And yet in the back of all of our minds was a feeling of suspense. Like an intense waiting game. Sherm thought for a game we should all write down guesses- twin genders, names, DOB “AND” he suggested proudly “whoever is closest gets the first call” This game idea got lost in the chaos but not before Father declared he “couldn’t wait to take his twin granddaughters trucking”

But the wait continued.

As I read the Christmas story this year, I understand the waiting a bit differently. The world was waiting and had been for years. They knew the promises- had them memorized probably from childhood. But when would the Promised Savior come? What would He look like? What if they missed Him? I’m sure the buzz came and went as generations expected Christ to come. But the waiting continued.

Suddenly things changed. There were angelic visits. Joseph and Mary’s relationship endured all kinds of trauma as the accusations of unfaithfulness and sin floated around. They somehow made an 80 mile trek to Bethlehem before the birth. So many random events leading up to Christ’s coming “that it might be fulfilled.”

I even understand the Shepherds differently this year, as I pull my barn boots out of the cobwebs and make that familiar trek to the barn. One commentator that I read mentioned the fact that it’s possible the Shepherds were watching the lambs used for sacrifices in the temple. So when the angels arrived announcing that THE Sacrificial Lamb- the One who would take away the sins of the World- had been born, basically they were given the gift of retirement. “Your replacement has arrived. Your job will soon be over”

Christmas Evening, the hired men were off, so I was scheduled to help Sherm milk. “Well, not sure you’re gonna get Christmas babies” I commented in passing

“Yeh,” he said “just a few more hours”

About 16 cows later Sherm informs me “It ain’t over yet” and next thing I knew I was milking alone while reinforcements in the form of Mother and Em were sailing my direction to help with the remaining chores.

Christmas Evening, our family was given the most exciting gifts.

Uriah Ray (middle name of both Sherman and his Papa) weighed 3 lbs 12 oz. Uriah “God is my light”

And Isaiah Stan (my dads first name is Stanley) weighed 3 lbs 15 oz Isaiah “the Lord is my salvation”

Aunt Sharon suggested “the Lord is my light, is my light and my salvation” as a family theme song.

And I love that

Uriah is so excited to meet the aunties.

Isaiah sleeps through the first of many selfies

(Will not admit how many trips to the local hospital per day my family is averaging 🤷🏻‍♀️😂😂)

The LORD is my light and my salvation– whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life– of whom shall I be afraid? Ps 27:1

May you grow to understand this verse fully, my little men. Welcome to this beautiful world. We are so glad you’re here.

Ok, gotta run, there’s a few chores I gotta see to until my replacements grow enough to take over for me

Aunt Ken

God keeps His Promises 🌈 and uses the Ark Encounter and a wreck as reminders

If you get a chance to visit the Ark Encounter is Kentucky- do it!

If you get a chance to visit the Ark Encounter during Christmas time with all the incredible light shows- by all means- do it!

If you get a chance to visit the Ark Encounter during Christmas time when God’s Bible School and College is putting on their Christmas performance- oh my- don’t just stand there- pack your suitcase and rush that way!!

Several weekends ago, my dad took a bus load of people to Kentucky for the weekend, and I was privileged to be included on the adventure.

Archive pic from a previous, more summery visit

I’ve visited the Ark different times, but I’ve never spent most of the day there.

I enjoyed the relaxed day of wandering through the grounds- exploring the ark in detail, eating a leisure lunch at Emzara’s buffet, meeting the variety of animals out in the petting zoo. It was a good day.

I love the reminders of Gods faithfulness, His provision, and His plan to provide a way of escape for those who worship Him. God keeps His promises- the Ark does a wonderful job of making that fact clear.

Mid afternoon we made our way to the Answers Center where God’s Bible School and College where sharing their Christmas musical.

For the next 2 hours, my heart swelled with praise and worship as the choir started in the Beginning of Time as Adam and Eve were led away from the garden after sin has entered the world; visited Abraham as God told him of things to come. Elizabeth rejoiced when she got a visit from Mary and they celebrated the upcoming birth of the Promised Child. The Shepherds excitement over the announcement of Christ’s birth was thrilling. But my favorite was the reaction of the man born paralyzed, the woman taken in adultery, and the man born blind when Jesus touched their life and offered them grace.

“Yes!” I thought “it’s so clear- all along God promises that a Messiah would come. For years people waited and waited. And then He came and conquered death so extensively, offering a way of escape for all of us even however many 1000 years later. What a difference Jesus makes in lives today. This is beautiful. God keeps His promises!”

As I stepped out of the auditorium, night had fallen, but the entire Ark Encounter grounds had turned into a rainbow forest. Everywhere were the beautiful array of colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet. Reminding me again- God keeps His promises.

What I didn’t know, as I rejoiced in the beauty and wonder of my worship service- back in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley, God was at work.

My darling sister Em left a birthday party for a nephew, and was heading down an unfamiliar road after dark in typical Em fashion (hammerdown). A brief moment of inattention at a bend in the road, and Em’s car shot up a bank and sailed through the air. Luke Duke would’ve been proud as she went airborne.

We went to see her as soon as we got home from KY. “I hit a tree about 10 feet in the air and then fell forever. They say that when an accident happens- it goes so fast- you don’t even know what happened, well that’s fake news- I knew exactly what was happening the entire way, but I was powerless to stop it.”

When her car finally stopped at the bottom of a 20-30 foot ravine, the emergency worker in Em immediately took over as she discovered A. She was still alive and B. After a head to toe assessment, she wasn’t even hurt.

The impact was great enough that her rearview mirror was ripped off the windshield even though no glass was broken. And other than major whiplash and some issues from the seatbelt- she walked away rejoicing.

R.I.P. little blue Dart

When the pics started arriving and we pieced the story together- Mother and I both cried at the reality of Gods protection over Em. God does keep His promises.

I don’t know what battles you’re facing. And I know that the fact is- Gods promises don’t always protect us from tragedy. I also know, that He is Faithful and whatever difficult thing might be next, He will provide what we need in that moment.

Take a minute in this busy week to recognize what He’s providing in Your World.

And if you see Em around, give her a fist bump or shake her hand (or hug her gingerly- because sore ribs don’t leave overnight) and thank God for allowing us one more Christmas season with her 💞

Praise Him,


Winter Wonderland on the Oregon Trail

“How many lessons of faith and beauty we should lose, if there were no winter in our year!” -Thomas Wentworth Higginson

My most recent adventure found me looking winter fully in the face, and honestly/shockingly, loving every single minute of it. Lol

I don’t like winter. I don’t like the cold. I don’t like the drab. I just plain down don’t like winter.

But when a friend mentioned the need for someone to drive a car across the continent this December- I jumped at the chance. My friend Ben agreed to help me tackle the challenge. And away we went.

We left the Valley as a freezing rain settled in. With thankful hearts we watched it in the rearview as we motored our way west.

Snow flurries in Nebraska

And although we didn’t get into a full blown wrestling match, Winter kept nudging us along the entire trail. And really, it added so much beauty to the journey.

Admittedly when I agreed to the trip, I immediately remembered all the stories I’d heard about snowstorms in the Rockies. “Winter travel is no joke” they said “a storm will come up and they shut down the interstates immediately.”

“Wow” I thought ” Can we do this?” So we committed our journey to God, and watched as He took care of us. Time and again and again.

A beautiful-9°F sunrise in Wyoming

I kept pretending that I was exploring the Antartica or at least was an ice trucker- 🥶😂 can’t imagine their view is much different from this.

Utah felt a little bit less like a wilderness. But still beautiful.

We grabbed a delicious meal at Jakers in Twin Falls, Idaho. The fact that they serve mainly food raised in the northwest added a local flare that was perfect. We walked out on the bridge spanning the Snake River and watched several guys jumping/parachuting the 486 feet to the bottom of the canyon. It was a bit above the temps we’d encountered in WY, but still a very chilly descent.

And Oregon 💞 I have never experienced such a glorious wintery sunrise as I did the first morning in Oregon. The fog froze onto everything in the 0° temps and the world was a magical kingdom.

Praise the Lord.

How good it is to sing praises to our God,

    how pleasant and fitting to praise him!

Great is our Lord and mighty in power;

    his understanding has no limit.

He spreads the snow like wool

    and scatters the frost like ashes.

He sends his word and melts them;  he stirs up his breezes, and the waters flow.

Praise the Lord.

Excerpts from Psalms 147

As we traveled along, we drank in the vastness of the open road, the complete solitude of the eastern part of the state, and enjoyed the ride.

2,770 miles into our trip, found us delivering the car to its new family with super thankful hearts. Praise God for watching over our journey.

And because I had scheduled in a bit of extra time before our flights home (in case Winter stopped us in our tracks) the adventure wasn’t quite over. ☺️

Crater Lake:

The West Coast:

This finds me back home again, curled up beside my wood stove, reliving the journey. But mostly, just thanking God. The unique variety in His creation is wonderful. And the opportunity to experience so many good things just leaves my heart overwhelmed. He is such a good God. 💞

Praise Him,


👶🏼👶🏼 Baby Shower builds anticipation

This weekend, several of Julia’s friends hosted a baby shower in honor of her and the 2 little Showalters we are so anxious to meet. Julia’s nursery is decorated in forest animal theme, and the shower carried the same idea.

Julia carefully selected a date for the celebration when all of Sherman’s sisters were in town. The nieces were super fun to watch. (And listen to lol)

“I always thought showers would be BORING but this is TERRIBLY MUCH FUN”

“I sure hope I have twins because you get WAYYYYYY more gifts.”

This gift came anonymously with name tags “Miriam” (Sherman’s grandmother) and “Margaret”(Julia’s grandmother) pinned on the front of their sleepers.

So thankful for a Heavenly Father who answers prayers liberally.

Baby A and Baby B we are getting closer and closer to ready for your arrival 😍

Aunt Ken

Bonus Pic:

Sneak Peak of Julia’s nursery. Mother made the wall hanging. Emily made the pillow. Another friend made the blanket… these babies have no idea how loved they are already 💞


I always feel this way in November. The gray clouds billow across the sky, the cold seeps under the door , crosses the room and engulfs my heart.

If you’re missing your swans- they came here

I try to analyze my feelings as I hurry to help get the last of the crops into storage before the snow flies. I give myself a stern talking to: “ ok, KH what’s up?! We’ve had a wonderful year- God has blessed us with a strong growing season, and a safe harvest-the grain bins are all slam full. Your health is the best it’s been in awhile. You’ve got some exciting things coming up. Why the wistful feelings?”

Photo credit: Emily

But I know the answer: Winter.

Don’t get me wrong- I love a good snow. I love the ice skating parties that happen occasionally. I really do enjoy the slower pace.

But somehow the winter blues always hit me the month of thanksgiving. I look back at the beauty of seasons past and I look at the empty calendar days ahead and I wonder…

My 91 year old Grandmother is well past the fall season of her life and yet I get the same feeling of wistfulness from her too.

She looks back at the beauty in seasons that she’s experienced and looks at the bleak winter ahead of her. And she wonders…

My mom recently found a sweet poem written by my Great Grandmother Stella Good about her feelings about my Great Grandfather. Her wistfulness is quite obvious.

To my Husband

Honest, dependable, kind and true

These are fitting words for you,

Working hard from morn till night

To make anothers burden light

Lifes hard struggles, but endears

And love grows stronger through the years


Years have gone by, more than a few

Since these lines were penned to you

And vast the changes we have seen

In the long years that intervene

And our Infinite God has planned

Much that we cannot understand.


He knows why sorrow strikes us all

Sad partings come and teardrops fall.

For more then two and sixty years

We’ve share each other’s smiles and tears

But the time has come that we must part.

And I am left with a sorrowing heart.


Now my beloved, you have gone.

But memories sweet and love live on

You cannot return to me ‘tis true

But praise God, I can come to you

O the blessed hope, of Eternal years

With no more partings and no more tears.

May the winters ahead be gentle on us all, as we live our lives carefully, looking forward to the Eternal Years where the seasons never change

Be Blessed,


Bonus Pic:

Recently Em helped me drive all night to get a family home for a funeral. We stopped by Gatlinburg, TN after we had our passengers delivered and Em insisted that I walk the 600 foot swinging bridge with her. I’m still not a big fan of heights, but I didn’t die this round- so that’s positive 😂 super thankful for her flexibility and willingness to travel with me and turn a big job into an adventure

I Shall Not Pass This Way Again//New York 10.19

My mom has a favorite quote that I can count on her saying about every time travel takes her to a new area.

“I shall pass this way but once; any good that I can do or any kindness I can show to any human being; let me do it now. Let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.” Etienne de Grellet

Recent travels found me in upper state NY right along the Saint Lawrence Seaway.

We enjoyed a wide variety of sights- like this freighter heading through a lock.

This restored schoolhouse from 1845 was on the property of a farm visited.

The original boyhood home of Almanzo Wilder was another place of interest.

I even visited Trout Creek. Don’t know how familiar you are with the stories of “Farmer Boy” but Almanzo and his family ran their sheep flock through Trout Creek to wash their wool before shearing them. Apparently Almanzo’s job was to take the fleeces to the upper storage in the barn, and the shearers kept kidding him that they were going to get done before him. So during lunch break, he smuggled a ewe upstairs so that he could officially have the fleece upstairs before the shearers job was completed 😂 anyhow. The leaves were just starting to change. Beautiful!

The end of our stay in New England found us in Vermont in a cable car at Jay’s Peak

What a view!!

As I stood there overlooking the land before me, my mom’s quote came to me again. I don’t know if I’ll be back to this mountain top. But that’s not what counts- it just matters how I respond to the less scenic/ more everyday (and slightly annoying) encounters in my journey, and how I make the people I cross paths with feel. Do they see the love of Christ in my reactions?

One chance- because I won’t pass through today again.

Be Blessed,


KH eats Crow

Warning complete harvest post forthcoming:

“If you’re not living on the edge you’re taking up too much room”

Somehow this quote keeps entering my life encouraging me to get out of my same ol same and shake the norm up a little.

Idk what norm looks like to you- but this time of year- I’ve done the same routine 1000s of times. Load up my “farming without a cab” starter kit (sunscreen, rain coat, sunglasses, earplugs, battery pack, etc) and jump on my faithful 7330 John Deere and hit the field. From there the dust and the silage and the good times roll until the end of the day and I drag home a filthy, exhausted, completely happy wreck. Repeat the next day.

But something happened this week that will forever change the tint in my rose colored glasses.

I tasted life on the other side of the tracks.

I’ve lost count how many years/ how many conversations have happened because of the differing opinions on equipment. But we’ve burned up a fair amount of energy on the subject, particularly with our friends at Shen Valley Custom. Invariably the conversation happens and it usually follows the same outline. It’s all in fun- the banter between John Deere and Claas (my dad wrote a few poems on this subject) or John Deere and Fendt tractors or John Deere and Case combines… but at the end of the day we go home completely satisfied with our continued #deereseason. In short, we run Deere equipment and are living happily ever after. More of a lengthy discussion would be that most of our cart tractors are open station tractors (without cabs) meaning that we eat dust and bake in the sunshine and live happily ever after- rocking that farmer’s tan.

This week we had a fairly lengthy road haul from the field to the farm, and we had 3 Shen Valley outfits on the job. The one cart operator had to leave, so my dad looked at me “Ken, go run that JCB”

Wait, what?!

One of the other guys gave me a quick run down of the tractor and with a “you’re going to end up writing a blog about this” he left me to my own devices.

What happened next is the shocking part: I had a blast. We flew down the road over 40 mph.

The sun shone in the cab and I turned up the AC. The sun set and I turned up the heat. Music kept me company. The gravel road dirt hung in the air and hit my windshield and I cleaned it off with Windex.

“Cabs are certainly unnecessary” I told myself as I reached into the fridge to retrieve my cold drink.

“Still not necessary” I told myself as I followed the cutter around the field and the silage rained down on the top of the hood, and I stayed perfectly clean.

But who am I kidding? I smiled so much that my face hurt.

As I tore along in my little yellow JCB sunbeam, I was just reminded again to make my words sweet.

Because sometimes when you’re super opinionated and vocal about it- those words return to haunt you.

But it’s ok- as long as I’m traveling down the road 40+ mph- maybe they won’t catch up with me.

If this is life on the edge- I think it agrees with me 🤷🏻‍♀️😂😂

Grinny Kenny

Dog Tales: Part 2- Literally Chewed Up 🐾

Well, I’m back in town. Detroit Snappenbarker Mendoza who doesn’t show up for a year, then is writing 2 weeks in a row. But here I am, story in toe. (No, I did not misspell that.)

Last time I was ranting about being chewed out. You won’t believe what got chewed up this round. Yep- me! A much lesser dog wouldn’t have survived-but here I am. Regardless- hide your eyes because it was a terrible, horrible fight. Here’s the facts:

The Harvest Monster comes to call this time of year. I can always sense it’s arrival. My human family walks a little faster. They are gone a lot more, but when they are around, they talk a little louder and laugh a little more. This Harvest Monster is not something to be feared, only respected. And managed within an inch of its life. That’s the part where I shine.

“Get ready” I told my assistant Rolo “it’s show time this week.”

And it was. I rode down the road on the tractor with KH carefully planning my day.

Things went well, the first day of Paradise Lane Chopping Season.

The other dogs rode with the cart operators some, but not me. I was in charge of air traffic control in at the trench, and I manned the control tower like someone’s life depended on it.

Day 2 went equally as smoothly. Finally I decided I just had to get to the field, the trench was filling up and there was decisions to be made with what to do with the rest of the corn (PTL for this problem!) so I ran out to check the chopping progress.

What happened next I will never tell. But the Farmer was riding across the open field on his trusty four wheeler when I met him with a feeble salute. He stopped and I climbed on his fourwheeler before he knew what happened. “Medic” I mumbled “I need a medic”

There’s a wide range of guesses as to what happened to me. In short- My foot looked like it got in a losing fight with a meat grinder. Basically I’ll give you all of them and you can go with whichever logic you like best :

The Farmers guess: that I was in the standing corn and forgot that the chopper ate 10 rows at a time instead of 8. And somehow those vicious knives on the head managed to mangle 2 of my toes. (KH was running the cutter and she does not like this option, and can argue it away in about 5 seconds) I am tough as nails- maybe I was just too much for that ol beast to munch on.

Mr Good’s version: that I was going for a pedicure and got trimmed a little closely. (Ummm Hello- does he really think I’m that high maintenance?)

The Farmer’s Daughters ideas: maybe a trap or a sharp corn stalk or something caught my poor toes as I rushed past and yanked the pad off… (what kind of a dunce would blunder into a trap? And are freshly chopped corn stubble really a lethal weapon?)

But like I said- I will never tell.

In the end EMT Em wrapped my wounded paw up and held me close as KH drove the getaway vehicle to Ashby Vet Clinic where a very nice man gave me the opportunity to sleep really soundly while they stitched me up.

I’ve got a beautiful purple bandage that’s driving my crazy- but hey I’ll take the Purple Heart I definitely earned.

So anyhow- message me if you need an address to send get well soon cards, steak, balloons, steak, roses or steak. I’m going to need some cheering up while I wait this one out.

Farm Manager, currently on sick leave,

Detroit Snappenbarker Mendoza