I Once Again Write About The Sky I haven’t seen the stars in almost four months. At least not ones that are actually in the sky above me in that moment. Instead of I see miles of orange stretching across the horizon. Not that delicious…

I wove our worlds together, silk, cotton, linen, wool for the cooler months nothing synthetic I would have picked the flax and cotton myself, sheared the sheep even, but I was in the garden picking herbs and vegetables for the soup I was making for…

Why do we call it warfare when war is anything but fair? Why do we call it a funeral when it’s anything but fun? Why do we get to ask these questions? – Because words.

pink nose, black lips sweet ball of fur stripes & solids, bright green eyes contented little purr by my side through thick & thin almost eleven years since six weeks old, you have been here through the laughter & the tears i can tell you…