The Holm family is rich. Lush with the fullness of life, their modest farmhouse buzzes with the sounds of chickens clucking, horses nickering and girls giggling. There are lazy kittens loitering and watchdogs watching. There’s mama’s skirts to hide in and daddy’s hands to hold onto and a long lane leading down to the creek.
After spending a bountiful afternoon documenting Pete, Tansy and their 6 children on their homestead, I felt fat with satisfaction, as if I had a belly full of grandma’s buttered biscuits. Of course, I was not too satiated to turn down an assortment of beautifully brown eggs and a freshly canned jar of happy accident BBQ sauce that Tansy insisted I take home…