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The Old Mule

Old Mule Farms - Graves, Ga.

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Walk On

A view from my back porch…

  Sitting here listening to the early morning still sounds I know soon enough that will change. Before long the ole hound dogs across the hollow will bring their deep voices to the hand of who feeds them. The clicking of traffic as it crosses the tracks a mile to the …

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Pondering Thoughts

A view from my back porch…

  The best part of any day starts early here on the old farm. Its the moments before the rising of the sun where inspiration hinges on what ever thoughts come to mind. My view off the back porch at times stop within the darkness that fills the silent calm still mornin…

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Bright Memories

A view from my back porch…

  Old Mule Farms is celebrating life as spring brings green to what was gray sights. Winter is now at rest as we pass Easter heading to the abundance this farm has always yielded. We resurrected a lot of memories over the last few days making our homestead heritage th…

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The Smoke House

A view from my back porch…

  Warmer weather has crossed the old farm over several days now bringing with it the drive to get a few things done that have gone lacking. My old smoke house has seen better days, given years of use and just time damage so my focus is to restore it back to a past lif…

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Close Knit

A view from my back porch…

  Early spring has brought wedding celebrations to the old farm. Now what was a familiar face for some time has become an official member to my small clan here on  Old Mule farms. One of my greatest joys is having my family close by. We all live within the fences of t…

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Spring Roots

A view from my back porch…

  Even though spring is just around the corner we have already been seeing it slowly spring in bits and pieces here and there. Our winter garden is still going strong as we prepare to mingle new things among its rows. For as long as I remember we have had a garden to …

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Whittling the Day Away

A view from my back porch…

  Starting off with strong coffee, hot biscuits, and fried jowl means a good day is just off the back porch of the old homestead. I got me a lot to whittle on this week with chores galore that have gathered together. That usually means one big ole pile of sawdust in t…

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Beyond the Smoke

A view from my back porch…

  I still say there is nothing that takes the place of a wood fire in the morning warming up the old farmhouse for another day of adventure. Or the smell of smoke filtering up through the early skies bringing full circle the fact that winter is still among us for a wh…

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Oil it Up

A view from my back porch…

  In the early hours of morning with nothing but the ticking of a spring wound clock the old farm house comes alive to live another day. Beyond its walls a new day awaits to be filled with all things farm related. With the hope of an early spring our time now is well …

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Focus First

A view from my back porch…

  With a fire softly burning to take the chill out of the air, supper is on the stove as we end another day on the farm. What counts the most in life is a honest day working with strong hands that leads to peaceful fulfillment as night fall brings all things clearly i…

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Honest Work

A view from my back porch…

  As our winter months head into the new year the one constant is there is always work to get at. Farm life ends for no reason so we press on in grand fashion as life intends. The rewards from my work has value in ways that most will never understand. So how could I l…

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Slowly Flowing By

A view from my back porch…

  With some scattered rains lately the banks of wolf creek still runs by the old farm. My ole hollow has been lying alongside  this creek as long as water has been flowing in these parts bringing with it all that one could ask for on this earth. The calming sounds, dr…

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Goodbye

A view from my back porch…

  Before we say goodbye to 2020 it has me thinking about how thankful we are for all who have been apart of such a tremendous year. Our farm has prospered as well as adding more historic preservation to its growing history. Our work slowed none, in fact it increased m…

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Life on the Farm

A view from my back porch…

  Old Mule Farms has seen a lot of seasons come and go. Each carrying a spirit of its own. It reminds me of the old country church where for years it stood standing as a beacon among darkened days. Such a spirit resonated through its doors as people gathered with purp…

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A Sweet Christmas Treat

A view from my back porch…

  The old farmhouse finds life in the simplest of things even when beyond the fences of the farm life seems to spiral in chaos. Call it roasting or call it baking it don`t make much difference to me. When you wrap up farm grown sweet potatoes in tinfoil then gently la…

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A Warm Glow

A view from my back porch…

  Going back a few years ago out in the kitchen of my old farm house hung the only electric light in the house. It was a cotton insulated wire dropped down from the center of the ceiling ending with a socket holding a glass light bulb in the end of it. We have somehow…

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Thankful Signs

A view from my back porch…

  The old farm house takes on the signs of seasonal thanksgiving even though the spirit of thanks is present within us daily. Some of my fondest memories are woven around this time of year where the old farm makes for the greatest backdrop anyone could ask for. Roast …

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Hide from the Cold

A view from my back porch…

  There`s a sharp snap across the farm this morning so I recon winter is making its move to get some what closer. Right now I`d say things are purty lively on the farm as we get started, but its November and should be a little cooler. Our work has had us splitting sea…

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Shine On

A view from my back porch…

  Steady rains cross the old farm bringing us from one day into the next as we journey onward. Just as the old farm drinks to soothe the parchment of the season, I sit with coffee in hand patiently waiting a new day to take shape. We move from harvest time in this rev…

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Harvest of Dust

A view from my back porch…

  Just like that harvest time rolls through the old farm bringing it closer to this years close. That time where  dust brings the scents of dug peanuts through the air. Cotton is ready to pick and hay is being cut in grand fashion. Maybe it really isn`t a end to harve…

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