by Faith Pineo Take a walk around the dooryard with me. We’ll enjoy the flowers and you can learn a bit of floriography aka “the language of flowers.” Back in prim and proper Victorian England, every flower had a hidden meaning. Making a small bouquet called a “tussie mussie” meant you could give flowers to someone special and send them a secret message at the same time. At her home in rural Maine, Faith Pineo can often be found puttering outside…
by Genevieve Lowles It was a Friday in May when I made the phone call. A bright and dusty morning, I’d just passed the crowded entrance of Stockwell tube station in London. There are so many people, full of direction and purpose. I’m on the way to work, because it’s 8:30 in the morning, and that’s what I do at that time. My head is full of voices, wordless chattering and the sound of my own uneven breathing. It churns…
by Chloe Moloney I am addicted to thinking. My brain jumps straight on the express train to disaster – often jumping to poisonous conclusions that the worst is the only possible outcome. I have to admit, it has taken me close to twenty years to understand that my pattern of thinking is distorted, but understanding this in itself has proven to be the first step in fixing the incessant flurry of thoughts in my head. I struggle intensely with this…
by Andrea Crowley-Hughes
by Jordan Griffing I had a wonderful childhood, but when I look back on it, I don’t always think of the family trips or the great adventures or the wonderful people who surrounded me. What I remember are the hospitals and doctors’ offices, the television shows and movies I watched when I couldn’t play outside, and the games my mom and I would make up to pass the time. I still vividly remember the day my mom came to pick…