By Phibby Venable All my mother’s words live around here,and I am always placing them in whatever orderI can remember.They hold the door open each morning, and suggestI have a better gratitude and attitude,for being aliveI stretch my eyes all over the sky, I lean upand look over the mountainsMy…
by Patricia L. Meek There are men in the woods I cannot see, reenactment soldiers dressed in blue wool uniforms; some are in gray. The uniforms are nineteenth century and absolutely authentic. Believe me, there is no silk lining, no thin cotton padding to keep He-man skin from chafing and…