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Folks, This Ain’t Normal: A Book Review
Perhaps I was pre-disposed to like this book. The author – Joel Salatin – is a Virginia farmer. A good old country boy who attended college in South Carolina but returned home to his Shenandoah Valley roots and his family’s farm. He’s a Southerner with an education, a passion for real food and a vision to show people there is…
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Prairie Primer: Maple Syrup Field Trip
The lesson guide suggested – visit a farm where maple syrup is being tapped. Well. It’s almost ninety degrees outside. In South Carolina. Must try to think of another avenue. I remembered a little store on Main Street in Hendersonville. Vermontage. I’d stopped in before, lured in off the street by a sign that read “maple cotton candy”. Spun sugar.…
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and when I haven’t written in days…..
I haven’t typed a blog post in a week I guess. I’ve had a couple rolling around in my brain. Sometimes my thoughts work themselves around in my mind in the blog format. (It’s not really something new. My head operates through Story and The ReTelling. It’s this narrative I’ve had talking to myself since I was a kid. I…
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Facebook. Instagram. iPhone. What do I do with you?
Have you ever thought of throwing your iPhone right into the ocean? Maybe driving over it with the giant tires in your SUV? Do you think of deleting your Facebook account and cutting the cord to social media in one swift slice? It’s almost cliche now – this love/hate relationship with Instagram and Facebook and email and a tiny touch…
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happy birthday willow.
“All I want for my birthday is to play dolls with my friends.” I love when wishes are so easily granted. Six is a good age. We invited a few dolls over. And their girls. Lemonade was served in tiny tea cups that once belonged to Piper’s namesake and birthday twin, my mother. London made her famous scones. (They aren’t…
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miss communication.
“You know what?” Willow asked me. “What?” I said back. “I think it’d be sort of fun to lose your independence.” “Okay. Why?” “You’d probably get toys and ice cream and stuff.” “Oh?” “Like Madeline in the hospital?” “Oh. Your appendix.“
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baking. or I am going to miss my kid.
I was in the kitchen. Making oatmeal cream pies for Riley for a surprise going away party. Because that was her last Saturday in the United States for the next ten months. Because I love her. Because she’s my kid and I’m her mom and this is what I do. And maybe it was the oatmeal cream pies. Or the…
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Forty: I Love You.
These forty days of celebrating forty have changed my life. Are changing my life. FORTY days. Forty days of good things. Forty days of waking up with a light heart (even on heavy days) and wondering what good was coming my way. And knowing, knowing, that some good was coming my way. Despite whatever the day might hold – urine…
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Prairie Primer: Owl Pellets
Here’s what I like so far about The Prairie Primer.. The author’s extensive research and well thought out specific plans make my life easier. In three days of school I’ve been more productive and on track than a week or two of last year’s schedule I think. (Some of that may be because it’s the first week and because I…
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Prairie Primer: Day Two
“Laura had only a corncob wrapped in a handkerchief, but it was a good doll. It was named Susan. It wasn’t Susan’s fault that she was only a corncob.” (Little House in the Big Woods)
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and so the school year has officially begun ….
The internets was overflowing with them yesterday. Cute back to school pictures. Bus rides and classroom doors and lunch boxes and kitchen tables and posters announcing the grades. Monday was our day to start up again too. Four students attending Wildwood this year. Same number as last year. Riley exited stage right and Finnian entered stage left. I like back…
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a lovely misery
The juxtaposition of lovely and miserable in this home is hard to ignore. Example One: The outside door of our bedroom. It opens to the porch. In the spring, in the summer, in the fall – it’s glorious. Waking up to a breeze, an old-fashioned lace curtain swaying, green trees, an inviting porch hammock. It’s picturesque. That same door – come winter…
