News, nature, and community throughout the Emerald Triangle
Saturday, my husband will load chains and shovels into the truck while I’ll pack chocolate chip cookies, Christmas tapes, and lots of extra clothes. The rugrats “forget” to do their chores and Dad roars but soon everyone is squeezed into a battered pickup truck. And we’re off. We meet at the parking lot at the foot of the mountains
Read moreIt sounds like the plot of a Rock Hudson/ Doris Day B movie. He’s in love with a beautiful older woman. An absolutely wonderful, amazing woman that everyone adores. The fact that she is in love with another guy bothers him but he tries not to show it.
Read moreWhen my oldest two were toddlers, we joined our neighbors in a baby welcoming. We drove through tunnels of trees and brush. For miles. Only a few select people lived out at the end of this road and trees embraced them and any vehicle that came to visit with gracefully arching arms and trailing green leaves. Along with a gathering
Read moreDeputized by the Turkeys of Humboldt to convey their holiday feelings to all of you. Roughly translated, they say “KISS MY BUNS” Hope you enjoy yours as much as the turkeys who got away are enjoying theirs. ——————————- Photo by Clay Church
Read moreLaura Louise Foster Powell 1923-2007 Mother of 3, Grandmother of 5, Great-grandmother of 8 and Great-great grandmother of 2. But she was more than just the sum of her descendants. Tiny as a bird with a spine of steel, Laura raised three daughters working long hours in the aeronautics industry to support them. She loved fine food, beautiful jewelry, a
Read moreI’ll bet you’ve heard of effervescent water—sparkling expensive liquid silver. But the other night I learned of dull water. What is that? Well… Redheaded moppet tangled in bed covers peeks out. “Mom, I’m thiiiiirstyyyy.” “There’s a glass of water on the window sill from last night.” “Noooooooooooooo, Mo-om, that water is dull, dull, dull!” Though never having heard it described
Read moreA Humboldt Christmas is not a December only Christmas. It begins early in November when the winds are wild and wet and somewhere the power lines are down but the generator is humming at home,–although you can’t hear it except when the storm hushes–and soft lights are glowing and the fire is so hot the stove pipe purrs. It begins
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