Mischievous kids. Nosy cows. Pig-headed horses. I was convinced my father grew up on a funny farm. Stories of his childhood peppered my youth – transporting me back to life in the boonies in the early part of the 20th century.
The tales became legend and I determined to save them. I began to write. And came up with a rambling list of events. Boring. All of a sudden an eleven-year-old girl popped into my mind, waving at me frantically. She could move to the farm. She could live out those stories first-hand. She could have her very own book.
I grabbed the idea and ran with it. Love, Mary Elisabeth was born.
