by Marjorie St. Clair My kin have longtime roots in the South. My mother and her family, the McCulloch’s, grew up on a small farm in northern Alabama. She met and married my father, and we lived in a small town in Alabama until I was seven years old when we...
by Dairne McLoughlin Making my morning cup of tea is like saying a nurturing prayer. As I pour boiling water over the leaves, the aroma fills my senses, and that feeling of well-being surrounds me. The ritual of waiting patiently in silence as it steeps, then...
by Janet Ruth My neighbor phones—Please come over! It needs your help. I feel bad but I’m afraid to touch it. Squatting by the fig bush wrapped with netting to keep birds off—the snake is impossibly tangled. She was probably slithering through on her way...
by Janet Ruth Crouched on the top step, my eight-year-old-self peers down through the banister to where her mother sits reading. A whine—a sobbing hiccup—Mommy, I can’t sleep. Mother chides gently, Well, you’re certainly not going to sleep there. Go back to...
by Mary Rives Imagine the triumph of a 15-year-old girl in the mid-1970’s fending off three attempted rapists. That girl was me. My military family lived in La Mesa Village of Monterey, California, where my dad was stationed at the Presidio of Monterey. The...
by Rebecca Jo Dakota Listen to my heart. It’s wiser than my thinking mind. When in doubt, go to the garden. I am not naïve. I see what’s going on. It is painful to see this disruption and destruction of old paradigms and norms, even though I know it’s time for...
