My latest digital work, Soul Mate

Remembering my mother.

  Your mother is always with you . . . She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street. She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks. She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well. Your mother lives inside your laughter. She's crystallized in every teardrop. She's the place you came from, your first home. She's the map you follow with every step that you take. She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space . . . not even death will ever separate you from your mother. You carry her inside of you. 

                          Marion Rector Kavaney
               b. March 2, 1926
               d. May 5, 1980 - thinking of you mom.
      Happy Mother's Day mom! A week early, just as on the day you died.

Feme Sole

Something I've wanted to do for a while now! I listed a number these yesterday on ETSY. 

Feme sole: under English and American 19th century Common Law, a husband and wife were considered one person - the husband. Wives had few legal rights, their existence was incorporated into their husband's. If a woman was never married, widowed, divorced, or had her legal subordination to her husband legally invalidated, she was considered a "feme sole". As such, a woman had legal rights to own property, make contracts, and much more.

April by Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale

The roofs are shining from the rain,

The sparrows twitter as they fly,

And with a windy April grace

The little clouds go by.

Yet the backyards are bare and brown

With only one unchanging tree--

I could not be so sure of Spring

Save that it sings in me.

Carry On America!

Turning by Lucille Clifton

turning into my own 

turning on in 

to my own self 

at last

turning out of the 

white cage, turning out of the 

lady cage 

turning at last 

on a stem like a black fruit 

in my own season 

at last

April is National Child Abuse Awareness Month