Chris Hardie

“Time to catch some fish,” Grandpa whispered. I jumped out of bed in my grandparent’s home in downtown Franklin in Jackson County.

The lifeblood of any farmer is the soil that provides their livelihood, so taking care of it has to be a top priority.

One certainty that I have learned over my long years is that nature moves at her own pace.

One of the benefits of starting my seventh decade of life in Wisconsin is experiencing all kinds of weather and seasons – sometimes occurring on the same day.

His name was Billy and he lived across the street from our family in the Milwaukee suburb of Hales Corners.

I was outside at dawn recently getting some chores done when I was hit with one of the smells of the country – a malodorous whiff left by a mammal in the mephitidae family.

As hurried and busy as life seems these days, we still spend plenty of time waiting. Estimates are that we can spend an average of six months of our life waiting.

A long, long time ago when I worked in newsrooms far, far away, I liked to tell aspiring journalists my definition of news: it’s what people are talking about.

One constant I’ve noticed in myself as I’ve grown older is that I’ve become more reflective. Perhaps that comes with age, but there are times when I see or hear something and it makes me physically stop and reflect.

As we settle into winter and the appearance of that four-letter word that is both cherished and hated, I’d like to take a moment to thank J.W. Elliot.