For too long now, as I see it, there has been a smart handful of us ol’ girls that have been quiet for too long, like we’d been told to be. I figure it’s time to get loud, manners or reputations or not. Sometimes, we need to speak up, lest the devils win. They won’t … Continue reading You ol’ Noisy Girls
Last night, in the darkest of early morning hours, I heard the call of a distant train. We all know what that sounds like. It’s unmistakable, like the voice of somebody you once knew. I heard it just as clear and plain as I did when I was a child, when we lived across the … Continue reading That Old Granny Magic
There’s a worn out ol’ apple tree out there in Granny’s yard, and it’s about as old as Granny herself. That tree has faithfully gifted us with the best golden apples this side of Clinch Mountain. It looks give out and haggard, just like Granny does every now and then. Now Granny didn’t let what … Continue reading Bad Apple Pie
This is a sacred place, you know. Oh, yes. You know as well as I do. I think on Granny’s old house, the one we all spent the whole of our youths in, the one that was haunted by familiar spirits. Ghosts, indeed. Some will call us crazy or ignore us altogether. But we know … Continue reading Days of the Dog Star
It’s been four months since my last confession, my last reflections on the flaws and flowers that grow here. Now I’m not Catholic; there ain’t many folk of that denomination around these parts anyway. Religion is very apocalyptic here in Central Appalachia, truth be told. But I once attended a Catholic wedding, if that counts, … Continue reading Devil’s Den: The New Appalachia
Now I was always advised that silence is golden, and I’d be best off in the end to keep my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself and behave like a lady, lest I be thought a wild woman. Well, I’ve been thinking on that good ol’ advice, and I’ve come to my own conclusions. … Continue reading Golden: A Love Letter to Appalachia
Oh, good Lord, the chill has arrived. As much as Fall in the mountains inspires us with its palette of gold and firelit scarlet and melancholy reverie, that chill is not a welcome visitor. No, not at all, not for us summer folk. That chill stays too long and gets more comfortable the longer it … Continue reading This Ain’t Witchcraft. It’s Wildcraft.