The Farm

This is Rose Hill Farm. The property line ends at the tree line.



The land belongs to my in-laws. My husband has always lived here and he helps his father farm it. Of these four houses, the one on the far left is the old homestead, the white one in the middle is a new home on property sold at the request of the paternal grandmother when she passed away, the white house on the hill belongs to the in-laws, and the home behind that in the woods belongs to my husband's aunt.



Some of the fields have been cut for hay. It looks like a good first cutting.



I live back behind the trees. I have walked quite a ways to take this picture.



My husband's grandfather built these small brick houses in the 1960s. He rented them out for a long time then sold them. We lived in one of them when we first married. Then we built on the other side of the farm.



This is the backside of my husband's grandparents' home. It dates back to 1816. The bricks were made by hand on the farm. The walls are 18 inches thick.



This is the front of the house. The place is no longer part of the farm, sold per instructions in a will.



This is what we raise. This is the bull and his harem.



This is the farmer, my husband.