“We drove out of New Paltz heading due north. Squeezed into my tiny hatchback, among our boxes and bags, were my dog, Nico, the hens, and the humming hive of bees, its openings covered over with tape. The dog eyed… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“There is no such thing as escape after all, only an exchange of one set of difficulties for another. It wasn't Mark or the… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“We drove out of New Paltz heading due north. Squeezed into my tiny hatchback, among our boxes and bags, were my dog, Nico, the… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“I was forced to confront my own prejudice. I had come to the farm with the unarticulated belief that concrete things were for dumb… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“When we walked the mowed margins of the field in the evenings, a school of black crickets sprang ahead of us like dolphins in… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“My Dad was sad that he saw us working so hard on something that was destined to fail.” — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“So there I was eating haute cuisine in a mobile home. He cooked for me as seduction, a courtship, so that I'd never again… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“Grow it right, and you feel insanely rich, no matter what you own.” — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“Mark came home late one frozen Sunday carrying a bag of small, silver fish. They were smelts, locally known as icefish. He’d brought them… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“Without me to struggle against, without the constant chaos of our first growing season, without the pressure of our impending wedding, he seemed to… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“Maybe most important, farm food itself is totally different from what most people now think of as food: none of those colorful boxed and… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
“A farm is a manipulative creature. There is no such thing as finished. Work comes in a stream and has no end. There are… — Kristin Kimball Copy Share Image
