I still have some summer to spend, but I'm looking back at what a dreamy time it's been.
Cathedrals Of Our Own
Beans
I didn't grow up eating beans. Well, canned green beans were presented on a plate, overcooked and gray. Unseasoned lima beans, pasty in color and consistency, were thrust upon us every couple of weeks. Canned peas, which I could barely tolerate. But not garbanzo beans, or black eyed peas, or black beans, small red kidney... Continue Reading →
With Camellias Blooming
That fire has given me energy to raise my children amid a family of tyrants and sycophants
Relief and Gratitude
. . . my life is ripe and full and luscious . . . Like aging, this opportunity to mature and learn is a gift . . .
Anew Hope
I sit for a moment in the sun, breathing its warmth into the corners of my lungs. It was a good, hard three hours, and I'm ecstatic, filthy and exhausted. It's planting season, and the next six months hold mysteries I haven't even contemplated. But what will come will be managed.
Meg Currell 