Now, more than ever, I needed to go home to Mother.
You, Me, The Atlantic
Camille lives with her soul mate Bob in the back woods of central North Carolina where she hikes, gardens, cooks, and writes.
Now, more than ever, I needed to go home to Mother.
I spent much of September watching the hummingbirds fight over sugar water. What a waste of energy, I thought.
The American Dream is alive and well just around the corner, a short walk from Trouts Farm.
“Chicken TV is keeping me sane,” she says, as we soak in that timeless world, mesmerized by their languid pecking and the occasional drop of a leaf.
Fun with Dick and Jane followed: a secular version of worldly wisdom with pages splashed in pictures of apple-cheeked children under blue skies. I devoured my lessons, turning them over in my mind before I fell asleep at night, wondering which ones held the key to family harmony.