The Grass is My Rug, The Earth is My Floor – A Mountain Story

It was the first week of the first Spring that we lived in Marble. Daddy had bought a piece of vacant land that was nestled in a forest of aspen trees and his plan was that we would spend the Summer building a cabin on the land so that we could sell it and makeContinue reading “The Grass is My Rug, The Earth is My Floor – A Mountain Story”

Holding the Storm

If there was one word that would sum up my entire childhood it would have to be Misunderstood. I had a knack for expressing myself in ways that very few people related to. I was angry, dramatic and resentful and I let everyone know about it. In spite of an obviously traumatic childhood, my emotionalContinue reading “Holding the Storm”