Plastic Farm AnimalsCamille lives with her soul mate Bob in the back woods of central North Carolina where she hikes, gardens, cooks, and writes.
I wrote this post in 2016 and Sheri McGregor put it in an anthology, a kind of “Chicken Soup for the Soul” for nature freaks. The essay would belong to Sowing Creek Press for a year following publication after which I could do anything I wanted with it, such as post it here on Plastic […]
Four weeks ago, Bob suffered an impressive heart attack and we both fell off the map.
They say you never miss the water ’till the well runs dry.
As the details around the insurrection settled into my chest like a bad cold, I realized it had shattered my belief that regardless of our political leanings, we were all Americans who held some things sacred.
Sound bytes are eating my brain. Make it stop!