Life is Hard This is a story about deer. But it doesn’t begin like that. Long ago, I was visiting my teacher son Morgan’s grade two class, setting up a weaving exhibit for the children on the tables at the back of the room. Meanwhile, on the rug at the front of the class he had his little ones sitting in a circle around his chair While I unfolded my portable loom at the back of the room,. Their attention …
THE GIFTS OF FOLEY MOUNTAIN The interview was almost at an end. It had been an intense hour of revisiting the 30 years my husband had been Supervisor at the Foley Mountain Conservation Area overlooking Westport, and where we and our two sons had lived in the little supervisor’s house there.“So, what is your most treasured memory of the time you were at Foley Mountain?”How to choose? It was an impossible question. Memories swirled, some too private to talk about.But, …
JUST THIS MUCH After my husband’s death, once I could think at all, I became afraid I might have become schizophrenic. As I began this new life on my own, so often my emotions were all over the place. It was frightening to jump in a minute from the relief of tranquility to desperate unhappiness. And of course, with Barry gone, during these erratic shifts it felt as if I had nothing to hold on to. Most often, what caused …