Plastic Farm AnimalsCamille lives with her soul mate Bob in the back woods of central North Carolina where she hikes, gardens, cooks, and writes.
Before I luxuriate in the clean slate of a brand new year, I must take a moment to acknowledge one bad habit that will surely follow me into 2018. I have a dirty secret. I’m guilty of the ultimate substance abuse. Intimate knowledge of its destructive properties doesn’t stop me from acting as if my […]
I’m not going to lie; this is a difficult time of year for me. Life this far above the equator feels like death. I thrive on sunshine, and wither in the cold. My nose drips, and because of the dry, forced-air heat, when I blow it, it bleeds. My eyes drip and my skin chaps. […]
Dear Santa I’d like a pony this year, and world peace for Bob, please. Again, I know. It seems silly to ask for the same things every year, but old habits are hard to break. Both Bob and I were very well behaved this year. We didn’t fight much, we kept the house clean, and […]
“It’s probably just winter”, I think, slogging through sleet and slush from the car to our back door. I’m suffering from malaise, and looking for something to blame. Lately, I find myself just going through the motions. I don’t feel like starting anything, and I really don’t want to finish anything, either. My brother Michael […]
I love this place, and all of you. I love lazy mornings in bed with Bob, and I love my job keeping an eye on things at The Plant. I love walking in Tami and Lyle’s woods, and over to your houses for meetings and parties. I love potluck, when we all bring something to […]