“Hey Alexa, look over here! Do you know what these are?” “They’re raspberries, ‘lise.” I sat down on the edge of our lawn, grasping the thorny branch ever so lightly. “Close! Blackberries. They’re baby blackberries. But right now they’re just green.” She skipped across the lawn, crashing next to me. Advertisements
Two months ago, a close friend suggested I read Chesterton’s Orthodoxy. She had just finished it herself and was in that giddy state that the best sort of nerds experience when they have found something new and wonderful and are compelled to convince as many people as possible to try the aforementioned something. (If you’re interested,… Read More Audiobooks and Orthodoxy
Now let me make this one fact clear early on: I’m not a Southern girl. That statement is notoriously difficult for me to make, because the South is near & dear to my heart. Everything about this place hollers “comfort” and “security.” The fried okra, the sweet tea, front porches, summer storms, sugar sweet accents,… Read More Dear Lord, thank you for weeds.
“Only boring people get bored,” a wise man once told me. That is advice that every millennial should hear at least once in their life. We expect to be constantly entertained. We want fulfillment handed to us on a silver platter; we don’t want to deal with all the inconveniences that accompany responsibility. Are those sweeping… Read More On perpetual lethargy