Tag: writer’s life
-
A Haunted House of Dreams
You are attached to a mystical tangle of ribbons–other people’s dreams and desires. A flirtation. A wedding. Children. A funeral. And all over again. With blue eyes running along one thread, alcoholism another. Love is tangled in there too. This is my 3x great grandfather’s house. I want to burrow into the collapse to find…
-
What is your first memory?
My mother had a recurring dream while we lived in the cottage beside the river. Great rains would come and she’d wake to find the house unhinged upon the flooding water. Her brand new sewing machine sat upon a porch the real cottage didn’t have. The machine’s weight tilted the house to one side and…
-
Springtime at Middlemay Farm
A short hello to say that I hope you’re having a lovely day! “When tillage begins, other arts follow. The farmers, therefore, are the founders of human civilization.” – Daniel Webster
-
“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.” ― Mark Twain
Everything you love today will be one day thrown off, cast in a heap, stolen or forgotten. You may write your mementos into a will, put your signature upon books you’ve written, and, in the case of your very body, have portraits done to capture who you once appeared to be. As a man came…
-
The Unknown Soldier
One sharp pain. One utterance of surprise. Oh. He leaves no great philosophies. There are no medals, no headstone. Only a few strings left attached to this world. Letters in government files The sacrifice a mother makes to prove her relation to the boy whose life is opened up on paper for a pension she…
-
“DOG: A kind of additional or subsidiary Diety designed to catch the overflow or surplus of the world’s worship.” Ambrose Bierce
My husband’s mother cancelled Christmas one year after her dog Mopsy died. She didn’t get another dog for over twenty years. When my husband’s favorite Golden Retriever died I said I thought it was a little disrespectful for him to want a quick replacement, but I immediately jumped in to seek out another. We picked…
-
“Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.” Wendell Berry
“The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops, but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.” ― Masanobu Fukuoka, The One-Straw Revolution The morning begins. Those first sleepy moments are driven off by the cold in the mudroom as I tug my thick overalls and muddy boots on over my pajamas. There is something…
-
Therefore I Exist
Yesterday was the beginning of Lent for Christians. This was the first time in years (or maybe ever) that I was excited to get the ashes smeared on my forehead. Going back to Confession was a big step for me since for the longest time I hated the idea of a priesthood set apart. I…
-
A Letter to Artists
None can sense more deeply than you artists, ingenious creators of beauty that you are, something of the pathos with which God at the dawn of creation looked upon the work of his hands.
-
Sunday at Middlemay Farm
“One never reaches home,’ she said. ‘But where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.” ― Hermann Hesse
Author Adrienne Morris 