Living
Healing the Land
|
Who knows how long this land has been yearning for the return of plants that feel just right in her soil? I do not have the answer to that question, but I know she has been whispering to me about it since I met her.
Living
Baking Bread with a Kitchen Witch
|
I began to believe that peace goes into the making of the bread as well. By the time I made the first loaf, I knew it with certainty, and I worked that peace and some other magics into the dough as I kneaded it on the counter in the hearth center of my own home.
Living
Column: Remembering and Keeping
|
“What are these pillars, Gramma? Why do they feel so strange?” She stopped on the sidewalk and looked at me over the top of her glasses and said, “You ask strange questions, Sheri Ann.”
Living
Column: A Lifetime of Looking for Home
|
When I was a small child home was simply the house in which I lived. My parents and siblings were there, it held comfortable and familiar material belongings, and most rules and expectations were clearly defined. I was fed and cared for and most of my needs were provided for. I really did not think about how to define home because I did not know anything else. For a time, I just accepted that the environment my parents provided was what home was supposed to be. There is no clear point that I can remember when that began to change but change it did.