Advice from an editor

One of FarmWife's editors recently passed down this bit of wisdom: "Simplify, simplify . . . until only the best remains." It works for articles, for publications, and for life.

It has FarmWife thinking all sorts of things, like that she really should convince the children to save their very finest artwork rather than every scribble they've ever penciled, and that she should work harder to loan poor bored Jasper Jules out on brush-eating duty, and that she doesn't have to keep every mediocre paperback and outdated text book she's ever read, and that there's no sense growing a dozen varieties of lettuce when the romaine and red loose-leaf varieties are the only ones she ever really eats.

FarmWife used to own a dozen saddle pads, but the one she likes best is the hand-me-down, trimmed-down wool felt western saddle pad that she inherited with me from my previous owner. "Simplify, simplify"—she has given the rest away. She used to have six or eight dandy brushes in my grooming tote, but now she has two: a stiff nylon one for muddy legs and hooves, and a flexible natural-bristle brush for my sensitive body. She used to have three milking does, but she found good pet homes for the one with nasty tasting milk and the one with a misshapen teat.

The good news here is that I am the best, and will be forever cherished. Even if it comes down to just her her good husband, her good children, and her good mule, I am among the best. No simplification can touch me.

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