Kim Matlock

Fifty years ago, I stood on the lawn near the Washington Monument with my Aunt Marilyn and about a hundred thousand strangers, waiting for Up with People to take the stage. I was a young girl. It was July 1976, the country's 200th birthday, and I remember the press of the crowd, the heat, the sense that something enormous was happening and I got to be inside of it. Here is what I don't remember: fear. Nobody scanned the crowd for exits. Nobody wondered if it was safe to bring a child into a...

Mark spotted the loaded brambles by the back pond, and we waited to pick them together. The story of our first wild blackberry harvest at Matlock Farms — thorns, a red bucket, and an unexpected ride home.

How a quiet rescue puppy from the county shelter became Ripley, the newest member of Matlock Farms, and claimed our bed on night one.