Plastic Farm AnimalsCamille lives with her soul mate Bob in the back woods of central North Carolina where she hikes, gardens, cooks, and writes.
The stories about Hurricane Katrina have distracted me from the real horror at hand. The following commentary brought me back to my senses: “she had changed her mind about the war in Iraq. She said, “It’s no longer worthwhile” as if talking about hanging her laundry >snip< she had exposed >snip< the violence of the […]
I have read more about Katrina than I usually do news stories. It fascinates me. The tragedy has spurred some wonderful writing, among them this from the New York Times: That a corpse lies on Union Street may not shock; in the wake of last week’s hurricane, there are surely hundreds, probably thousands. What is […]
Bob had the inner tube from his front bike tire in the kitchen sink, looking for more holes when I was reminded of an idea I had years ago. He had just patched 4 tire punctures after riding the bike only 10 feet across a patch of weeds. As he made plans to re-tire our […]
I am beginning to realize that I have nothing to worry about. Is a tsunami going to take me out while I sleep? Not Likely. Will a scorpion drop from the ceiling and sting me? Probably not. Do I have enough water to cook and bathe with today? Most likely. In the absence of valid […]
Wouldn’t you know it, we are now sitting in the middle of America the Beautiful, in lawn chairs on the deck behind our rented space, interpreting fluffy white cloud shapes in a deep blue sky. Seriously, you can see God smiling down from heaven in silky rays of light upon the purple mountains. And I […]