There were many words people used for Misty growing up. Distracted.Sensitive.Odd.Too much in her own world. Adults spoke those words softly, as though lowering their voices made them kinder. Children rarely bothered lowering theirs at all. When Misty was seven years old, she spent an entire recess sitting beneath the old oak tree at the edge of the playground, carefully breaking pieces of her crackers apart for a squirrel with a crooked tail. The squirrel sat upright beside h

“A single poem is worth a hundred cozy winter nights, kind words, and healed wounds” -Sanober Khan A Deeper Meaning Inside For such a...

“For breath is life, and if you breathe well you will live long on earth” -Sanskrit Proverb The Need to Slow Down Too often I find myself...

Our oldest family recipe! Brought over from Germany by Great-Grandma Stuckey. For generations cooking and recipes have been handed down...