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 turned sixty-six last week and thought, “With what I know now, I wish I’d been there for my twenty-year-old self.” Could I go back in time, I imagine our conversation would go something like this: (Twenty-year-old me) So, you’re me in 46 years, eh? (Sixty-six-year-old me) Yep I can almost see me in you. […]
I’m about to hand Arlo a flat of ginger off our back porch, when we hear the arrival of a FedEx truck. I bounce over in my shop towel mask and stand expectantly on the wet lawn. Bob told me it was coming, so I know what the driver is fishing for back there in […]
Week 12. I can tell from the traffic patterns that we’ve begun our dance with death. On May 8th, North Carolina cautiously began reopening, with limited access to retail and church services, and plans to venture into Phase 2 at the end of this week. I’m calling the reopening a dance based on an article […]
Shortly after dawn I watch animated droplets chase a cement truck down the Moncure Pittsboro Road — white nanobots against the saturated green. I’d woken hours earlier to the roar of rain and felt my way through the dark to close the bedroom window, thinking, “Maybe this will get things moving.” It seems silly this […]
After the virus, people referred to pre-Covidian culture as “Life in the Time of Toilet Paper.” Seriously, back then, humans cut down trees to wipe their butts. The lungs of our planet! Homo Sapiens built enormous homes and blew up mountains for minerals to heat them with. They covered their food in plastic, and the […]