Chris Hardie

In the course of my writing over the years, the topic of spring is among my most frequent musings.

Experience is the teacher of all things.

Being Wisconsin born and raised on a farm, I can honestly say that I’ve dealt with much of the worst that winter can offer. 

The classic harbingers of spring are the return of the robins, the maple sap run or the first blooms to sprout from the thawing earth.

While politicians and others way above my station and pay grade continue to debate, expound upon and expunge homosapien influence on the stratosphere, one thing I know for sure. The winter weather has changed and we’re seeing way more rain and ice.

A home should be a peaceful sanctuary for its inhabitants, a quiet place of comfort and solitude. But when you live in the country, sometimes your abode is sought after by critters other than humans.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the rocking chair on the porch beckoned me

So many Super Bowls have faded into my memory, but there is one Super Bowl Sunday that I will never forget.

I have completed my quinquennial agricultural legal reporting duties with a week to spare.

There are quite a few Chris Hardie’s in the world – or at least a few others that share the same name.