James Milson

Thanks for stopping by to visit. I was thinking about something the other day . . . . When I was about six or seven years old, our next-door neighbors invited me to spend the weekend with them on a little farm they owned near Florida, Missouri. It wasn’t a working farm in the sense I imagined farms to be. Someone else did the farming, and they simply shared the harvest. And by city-boy standards,…

Every summer, there comes a day when I notice the grasshoppers again, with their buzzing and whirring in the tall grasses and weeds along the fence lines. Together with the cicadas droning in the afternoons, it has all been the sounds of summer for me. One afternoon not long ago, I was walking along the edge of a nearby field when something sprang out of the tall grass ahead of me. It landed on a…

Welcome back to the Front Porch. Please pull up a chair for a few minutes and make yourself comfortable. Today I’d like to make a confession — one that may permanently damage my reputation as an honest fellow. I’ve been lying to perfectly nice people for years. Professionally. Now before anyone becomes too alarmed, I’m talking about the respectable, old-fashioned kind of lies. The harmless sort…

Welcome back to the Front Porch. I’m glad you could stop by for a few minutes. Lately I’ve found myself thinking about simple things. Trees. Wildflowers. Birds. Butterflies. Forests. Streams. The ordinary things that make a place feel alive. Perhaps it comes from spending so much time wandering through Honey Hill Country. Or perhaps it simply comes with age. Either way, I found myself sitting…

One of the things I have discovered while putting together the new Hearth & Holler monthly magazine is that creating a magazine set in 1904 often requires learning things I never expected to know. Or having the need to know. Welcome to magazine week. Most people probably assume magazine week involves writing articles, selecting images, correcting spelling mistakes, and occasionally convincing…

A few weeks ago, after saying goodbye to my little Chihuahua, Allie, I was sitting quietly at home when an unexpected visitor stopped by my window. Now, before I tell you about the visitor, I should probably explain something. Birds and I are already on fairly familiar terms. A pair of House Sparrows built a nest this spring in a ventilation outlet just outside my apartment on the third floor.…

Today marks the beginning of something new. After much thought, planning, writing, illustrating, and more than a few cups of tea, Hearth & Holler has taken on a new format as a Monthly Magazine — a collection of stories, people, places, gardens, recipes, traditions, and adventures from across Honey Hill Country. For readers visiting Honey Hill Country for the first time, the stories and features…

The Continuing Adventures of a Very Small Warden A few weeks ago, I said goodbye to my little Chihuahua, Allie. At fourteen years old, she had been my writing companion, supervisor, schedule keeper, occasional employer, and friend for a very long time. Like many good dogs, she occupied far more space in a life than her small size would ever suggest. As with many small doges, Allie seemed to have…

There are some Spring mornings that feel as though they’ve been set out just for noticing. Last week offered one of those. The air had that early-season softness — not quite warm, not quite cool — in between — the kind that carries sound a little farther than usual and lets the world arrive in layers. Across the street stood a White Dogwood in full bloom, its branches lifted and spread like open…

It’s a quiet Tuesday here — the kind that invites a pause. And that feels like the right place to begin. Continue reading A Saturday Reset — Settling Back Into What Matters

A Weekly Visit of Tales, Tidings, and Old-Time Country Comfort Welcome! It’s been a full and eventful week in Honey Hill Country, and one worth talking about. As always, The Hearth & Holler Gazette is a work of fiction set in a place that exists most clearly in the imagination — though from time to time it may resemble somewhere you have known. But for first time visitors, it may help to know…

A Weekly Visit of Tales, Tidings, and Old-Time Country Comfort Welcome! It’s been a full and lively week in Honey Hill Country. From the rabbits’ tooting sound of joyful Carrozelas across the hills to the gathering of neighbors along the roadside, the past several days have brought a great deal of movement, merriment, and shared moments worth noting. As the season’s celebrations draw to a close,…

A Weekly Visit of Tales, Tidings, and Old-Time Country Comfort Welcome! It’s been a lively week in Honey Hill Country. As always, this Gazette is a work of fiction from a made-up place — though, at times, it may feel otherwise. Something has taken hold across the countryside these past several days. What began as a cheerful note here and there has grown into a full chorus — carrozelas sounding…

And the Quiet Idea That Made It Possible There are certain things that sit so plainly on a shelf, one might pass them by without a second thought. A small tin, for instance. Nothing remarkable in its appearance — no flourish, no fuss — merely a label, a lid, and the promise of something warm inside. And yet, now and again, a closer look reveals that even the simplest things carry a story worth…

A Weekly Visit of Tales, Tidings, and Old-Time Country Comfort Welcome! It’s been a lively week in Honey Hill Country. Before we go any further, the editor is once again obliged to remind readers — especially the newer subscribers who have joined us during the recent festivities — that The Hearth & Holler Gazette is a work of cheerful fiction set in an entirely imaginary corner of the Ozarks. Any…

And the Small Bird Who Knew It First Morning brought its own small announcement today. Out on a branch of the Honey Locust tree just beyond the window, a Carolina Wren had taken up position and was delivering his familiar seven-note song — over and over and over again — with the bright confidence of a creature that believes the whole world ought to hear it. And the remarkable thing is that the…

A Weekly Visit of Tales, Tidings, and Old-Time Country Comfort Welcome! It’s been a noisy week in Honey Hill Country. Not troublesome noise, mind you — nothing of the sort — but the cheerful kind that arrives when rabbits outnumber common sense and every available square foot of Butterfield seems determined to host a race, a cook-off, a judging table, or a parade that may or may not have been…