Packing is interrupted by the discovery -- once again -- of things from my life, or my kids' lives. We've only lived in this location five years, and our belongings are dotted with pieces of history. This vase was given to me when one of my children was born. The doctor who delivered my babies... Continue Reading →
As I finished vacuuming our tiny apartment, backing into the room where the vacuum is parked, I admired the pleasing lines in the carpet. I remembered the story my farmer friend told me about when she was much younger and garnered great pleasure from vacuuming herself out onto the deck, where she would sit and... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 