cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Hushed words seize power, Veiled whispers shatter safety, The desire to wilt. Yet, strength blooms in twilight’s veil, Anchored in embracing Light. Heather Medley is a woman who is learning to be present and kind to herself and to the people she loves. She is drawn to engage her world with hope of restoration and…
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Recently, I was gifted with a surprise night to savor an evening at the theater indulging in the musical Hamilton. The musical had come to my attention during the summer of 2020 while much of the world was still on lockdown. Social media was hyping the Broadway musical, and eventually my curiosity was piqued. Hamilton’s…
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Outside the lines my mother told me. That’s this month’s theme. Usually the phrase is associated with a child and their coloring book. The phrase references the lines, rules, expectations given by the book being ignored by children. They color in their own way, however they want. Strange, how as one gets older this concept…
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My deadline looms before me, but I have nothing to offer. Not a word. I know all I need to do is start writing, and before long, I’ll be finished, but sometimes starting seems impossibly difficult. I turn my attention from the window I’ve been gazing through to my laptop, open a new document, and…
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February hits in muted grey Paired with sunless mornings. We beg for reds and pinks In heart-shaped clouds And warm winter drinks.
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First, I wrote Leyla. She was a teen I thought my own teen girls might like. Leyla was for them. A Turkish girl, wandering the old city, who falls into an epic adventure to uncover a secret passed among women for two millennia. As she learns to embrace her own strength, she must also accept…
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November is here, and we have upon us another year, another holiday season. Coming into this season, my heart is tender and yet free and filled with love. Much has changed from the first year I created a list, yet there is a comforting familiarity to the remembering that this holiday provokes within me. Remember.…
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Heavy is the head that wears the crown Out front sittin’ pretty laden with responsibility just because I can be The one who’s able to respond to get shit done
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I know next to nothing about hunting, but I know a lot about needlepoint. Many of the hunters I know have trophies on their walls—preserved, marble-eyed animals. I suppose they are a reminder of the many hours spent planning, preparing, hiking, stalking, aiming, shooting, and gutting, then taking the unstuffed body to a taxidermist to…
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Look beyond the castle cresting along the coast. Look beyond its flowered fields blooming more than most. Pull away your velvet panels, Float upon the ocean channels. You are more than you know.
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