(I’m still seeking and finding my writing rhythm for this new year, so today I’m again sharing one from the archives. This post was written back in 2013 when my twins were just about 18 months old. The image above is of a plate my husband and the...
I returned home from the God’s Whisper Writing Retreat in Virginia last Sunday, driving my husband’s rattly old pickup truck through four hours of heat and humidity. The truck lacks AC and I swear it was hotter inside the cab than out. By the...
I never envisioned being the kind of woman who drives around with a dog sitting sentinel in the passenger seat – I’m a cat person, after all. But she loves to go, so I let her. On straight stretches I reach over and bury my hand in her fur ...
The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on. – Carl Sandburg // In the long, dark winter evenings, the older kids and I read our way through the Chronicles of Narnia. In them Aslan, the...
It fits in the palm of my hand, small and pleasing, like Julian of Norwich’s hazelnut. The cover is cut and glued from scrap paper – the same paper that lines my kitchen cabinet. The pages, cut from printer paper and the binding, a bit of linen cord....
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