I’ve chosen several photographs for this posting, as respite, as distraction, as hopeful image. Bread—to wit, sourdough bread! I was caught up in the pandemic baking fever like many others and have a way to go to perfect it, but it sure tastes good toasted. I’m currently following a grain-free diet, so at present my husband gets to reap the rewards, lucky man.

Nearby Lovers Leap with Gibbous Moon and Sky Writing. ’Nough said. Our loving Lab, Gabe, in kerchief, named after one of my literary characters. Both, sweet guys.

Late winter arrangement of amaryllis and narcissus, a snow globe, framed outdoor scene. Can spring be far behind? (Yes, afraid so, darlin’)

Apple-spice tea cookies, yum! A loved one peeks from behind. And calligraphy from Plum Village. May Peace Prevail. Everywhere.

In my recently completed narrative, CROFTER, A Wyoming Homestead Manual and Radical Memoir, Rooted in Place, I pair defining moments in my early life, as a member of an Air Force family, with descriptions and suggestions for what’s worked for my husband and me in living, now rooted purposefully on a “croft” (a smaller acreage than what passes for “ranch” in these parts). I’m currently submitting the finished proposal and manuscript to agents and publishers, with hopes for a wider audience. Though (truth be told) I’d miss the responsibility of being my own boss, even with attending cares and headaches. We shall see. . . .

My father-in-law was fond of a saying, “Cast your bread upon the waters.” I believe it’s biblical. Ah, yes, here it is, from Ecclesiastes 11:1. . . Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again. At the end of the chapter and verses, we are told that life is good, and that we should enjoy it. However, this day I stand in solidarity with the Ukrainians, and with all those suffering war, abuse, addiction, loneliness, hopelessness, and homelessness. May peace prevail. May we wake up.