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At our house we use tissues as bookmarks. Allergy-prone, boxes sit in every room, which is where, also, we read – every room. “We have too many books,” my daughter once commented. This, I...
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In the early morning darkness, I lay my head back on the couch, face lifted, chest wide, shoulders back. Open. Prayers rise, unbidden, as coffee cools in my cup. Decisions, relationships, lift like smoke, ascending from that tense place in my chest...
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Our stove was broken. The oven burned everything and the biggest burner, the one I used every meal, either ran on high or not at all. It was one more thing we didn’t have time for, didn’t have money. Not long ago, when our finances led me to consider...
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(The morning view from the porch at God’s Whisper Farm) Remember a few weeks back when I wrote about Cutting Loose at a friend’s farm while enjoying a weekend long writing retreat? This week I’m honored to host the farm’s...
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All four kids took turns rummaging, elbow deep, in the large metal pot that holds rusted nuts, bolts, washers and nails. First they made robots, tiny friends composed of wing bolts and screws. They each made three or four and named them based on appearance...
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(This past week marked the one year anniversary of my admission to a local Psychiatric Hospital due to the sudden onset of severe panic attacks. I took this picture of the outside when I went back this week for a routine appointment. You can read more...
