I grew up with pickup trucks. Mud-spattered farm trucks with hay on the floorboards, camping trucks with a Coleman stove and cooler stashed in the back and small-town trucks, washed and polished for Saturday night dates and tailgate parties. I also grew up with one...
My mom was a knitter. The gentle click of her knitting needles was as much a part of my childhood as the books we shared, her chocolate chip cookies and the touch of her hand soothing all manner of ailments. She was descended from a long line of knitters and crafters...
I have a family, with responsibilities for people ranging in age from 10 to 104. I have a day job with international travel and unpredictable demands. I have friends, a community and ‘to do’ lists perpetually syncing between multiple electronic devices. In short,...
A recurring theme in my writing is a search for home and community. My heroes and heroines grapple with the push and pull between roots and wings, finding their happy ever after in small towns much like the one where I spent childhood summers. Places where...
One of my most cherished possessions is my mother’s recipe book. A worn binder holding loose leaf sheets, it’s not much to look at from the outside. But inside it holds a treasure trove of memories – not only of her but of family and friends spanning several...
