Tucked into a fold of the rolling hills in southern Leelanau County, surrounded by orchards, hay fields, and woodlands, lies the Ruby Ellen Farm. It is a magical place; a page out of the past. Great Grandma's kiss-me-over-the-garden-gate peeks through the white picket fences and wandered throughout the many gardens to find suitable settlements. Grandma's hollyhocks stand everywhere, as sentinels, and as welcoming masters and mistresses to this living history. The old iron dinner bell, perched high atop its sturdy frame in the side yard, patiently waits to call workers in from the fields. Evening serenades from resident owls and coyotes signal the close of the day, while inside the timeless pink-shuttered farmhouse, the heat from the wood cookstove delivers aromas of supper. One can imagine, almost feel, the presence of Ruby Ellen adding another maple stick to the firebox to heat water in the red teakettles. "Will you have some tea?" |
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