The highest goal one can achieve is amazement. ~ Goethe My first design experiments involved selecting snails along a narrow garden path. Lining them up in rows, I would talk kindly and invite them to take part in games. I would be their big sister, telling them stories and giving them . . .
She and I ran around a field excited by our newly wellied feet. We climbed to the top of a hill liberated from tartan skirts and white socks. We went "skating" on a frozen lake in our first corduroy jeans. She fell through the ice. I brought her home, shivering. She and I went climbing trees. We were swinging from an old Elder, hanging upside down . . .
I lost my mother to cancer at the young age of 33. In 2013 it will be 50 years ago. The memories I have of her are scarce. I just know that she gave us her best years, a parting gift of unshakable love and a caring respect for those who struggle through life with a broken wing. One of my earliest memories is of my . . .
I've always had a house full of them. Long limbed lads with soft chocolatey eyes and too many plans for wild escapades. Knotting up the house with twine, wool and bits of wood. Getting . . .