On June 1, 2018 Rebekah Henson published an important thread on Twitter critiquing the hashtags #FamiliesBelongTogether and #Ke...
Friday, May 3, 2013
Yesterday was a gorgeous spring day. My screen door clapped against its frame behind me as I stepped out into the sunlight. My children played happily in their sandbox as I clinked the yard gate shut and knelt down on the fresh earth in front of me. On my knees, I waded through a mix of hostas that had burst through the ground and those stubborn wild onion weeds. Our garden soil is always rich and full of wriggling earthworms; an underground stream runs somewhere through our yard. Still, though, the weeds are difficult to render from the earth. As a cold sensation soaked through my jeans, chilling my knees, I remembered that it had just rained. It is always easier to pull weeds when it rains. I began to yank the green intruders from my garden in handfuls, easily unearthing their tangled bulbs. I recalled being a little girl and thinking that the rain was the earth's way of having a good cry.
Posted by Amanda Woolston