It’s always about this time every year that I grow wholly grateful for life in ways I wish would stick with me through the year. October is my birth month—a birth so many moons ago I begin to lose track. But October also is my death month. At least that’s the story I thought I was living nine years ago.
The Wonder of the Past: H...
In moments like these, we need hope that brighter days...
Did You Know Clinton Coun...
Published at Clinton County Daily News
Drenched in a Metaphor
I found a metaphor growing in my garden over the weeken...
The History of Food Proce...
Published at Edible Indy
Looking at Earth and Seei...
Published at Redbud Post
