Driving
About life, death and healing.
addicted to animals
The Place We Call … Farm
The farm, our farm, IS a lot of work; it is also a great source of joy and personal satisfaction. It’s not just the big picture of it, but the little scenes that make my heart sing. A hundred times a day these things catch me – – first my eye, then my heart. I am swept up in the beauty of it, the intimate moments that arise because we are woven together, both two-legged and four-legged, in a web of caretaking and daily living. Someone is always eager to share those moments with me.
That Mother
I hate being called out. Gordy actually knows this about me and, while that knowledge doesn’t stop him from doing it,
Iron Dog
I joined a writers group. I am not entirely certain about this. It is a difficult thing figuring out the
A Little Bit Afraid
Molly is a little bit afraid of the thunder. I know this because a storm scuttles in the distance causing
The Language of Small Things
I am an interpreter of a language of small things. There are some days when this is mostly all of
The Awkwardness of What Matters
We are home. We have mostly worked through the inevitable fatigue and mental distortion of criss-crossing the planet and today we are
findingjubilee 