Chris Hardie

I’m not a superstitious person, but I sometimes wonder if someone has placed a curse on my power equipment.

Earthquakes in Wisconsin are pretty rare, with a mild tremor occurring once a decade or so. But if you felt a slight seismic shift recently, it was not due to tectonic activity, but rather, to me crossing off one task on my honey-do list.

A rare encounter with an indigenous wild cat is something I will remember for a long time.

Levi Plath, who gets to play with fire as part of his job. Plath – the land manager with the Mississippi Valley Conservancy – has overseen the land trust’s burn plan program for the past nine years.

The power and significance of the heart has been on my mind the past few months after a medical journey of appointments, tests and procedures that is a stark reminder of my mortality and the future.

When spring creeps into Wisconsin, there’s a sudden urgency to complete lots of outdoor chores to wipe away the remnants of winter and even fall.

Recently I attended the first Rural Policy Institute Summit held in Stevens Point, hosted by the Wisconsin Institute for Sustainable Technology at the UW-Stevens Point. More than 100 people from rural partners around the state gathered to engage and collaborate in small group discussions.

Biannually I am somewhat miffed that it feels like an hour of my life has been arbitrarily changed by a political rule where we want to mess with the natural rhythm of nature.

My farming days are over but a recent story made me realize that I clearly left a lot of money on the table.

My muse told me a couple of weeks ago that I should share the story about my mother’s dementia and her joy when we gave her a doll for Christmas. It was the last conversation that we shared. Mom died Jan. 29 just eight days short of what would have been her 88th birthday.