Chris Hardie

Here is Hardie’s Hemmings. It could also be called Chris’s Scraps, but that doesn’t sound as polished and alliterative. 

Back Home by Chris Hardie Time has an uncanny and relentless way of simultaneously sneaking up on you and passing you by. What seems like

The public ownership of the Packers, the unique small market feel of the team, as well as culture and pride were on display recently in Green Bay for the annual NFL Draft.

The calendar may say we are nearly a month into spring, but for me it doesn’t really arrive until I start digging in the dirt.

In the 1970s we had what my late grandmother Cecile Hardie called visiting. It was a very informal process, but involved three specific steps.

There comes a day every year in the midst of the dance of the seasons when winter allows spring a brief interlude. 

I still cut some wood and like to burn it, especially during cold snaps or simply as ambiance.

None of us would be here today if our ancestors hadn’t been resilient. Some faced unimaginable challenges or horrors. Some paths were easier. But all were resilient.

You have to get a grip on reality when the rubber hits the road. That’s just how I roll. 

My love for stories and story-telling carried over into college and my journalism career, where I wrote and later edited thousands of stories. But despite good intentions, much encouragement from readers and a strong desire, I’ve never put together those stories.
Until now.