The weight of all of this. The weight of people’s pain and prejudice. The weight of our little one facing very serious stuff. The weight of in…

At the ripe age of 12, my parents began gradually to entrust me with more demanding chores. The eldest, I learned how to cross each milestone …

The gardens have been our stay-cation this year. My heart is soothed by the joy she and her father have in their growing discoveries. She thri…

Last week someone asked me a question I would’ve thought I could answer until it was posed to me. A cousin recently contacted me while researc…

My elders often spoke of how the world had become dark, weary and worn. Painfully, they had seen war fold into war; economic depression and sc…

Out for a drive last, my child and I relished in the twilight. Our family had not been off our property in the evenings since early March. The…

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The kitchen is a hundred years old. The running water was added later, no doubt by some unprofessional, but nonetheless handy, neighbor, as th…

Our kitchen window faces west. Buttercup Hill climbs and crests at a thin line of trees, behind which the sun falls. As the giant orb slides b…

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