PART I: The Farmer Babushka referred to our farm as “Dom Wschodzącej Śliwki” which translates to “House of the Rising Plum.” I smile at this as I step out of our cottage and into a pastel-colored dawn. My fluttering eyelashes fan damp mist in a soft breeze. Dull shades hover past a fog, above vibrantContinue reading “The Farmer and the Fruit”