I come to you today with great sorrow. I lost my beloved husband two days ago of a sudden, massive heart attack. He was my love, my soul mate and my best friend.

I won’t be in the studio for awhile but I will still check this page and monitor sales. Please keep our family in your prayers and I’ll be back as soon as I can.

A lot of people ask where I got the name “Marshmallow Ranch”. When my older daughter got engaged, we brought her new fiancé to West Virginia to meet the family. This was in the summer of 1994. She was twenty and her little sister was four. Yes…my children are just about sixteen years apart! What was I thinking??? Anyway, one sunny afternoon, we went for a drive. In West Virginia, when they bale the hay in those big round bales, they wrap them in white plastic to protect them from the rain. The farmer leaves them in the field to cure and before long, the grass has greened up around them and they look all the world like giant marshmallows waiting to be harvested. As we came around a curve, we saw them and my then four-year-old asked breathlessly, “Mama!!! What ARE those?” Her sassy older sister proclaimed we had happened upon the native grounds where the wild marshmallow grows. Here, they are harvested, cut into small pieces, bagged, and sent off to the grocery store for our enjoyment in such delicacies as hot cocoa or s’mores. My little one was stunned…till I made her sister tell her the truth!