Between passing under the drizzling sky and washing produce, I was soaked to the bone. My Carhartts hung heavily from my shoulders and by mid-afternoon, I had to slip into a dry pair of coveralls. The dogs looked up at me, sloppy and forlorn, pleading to come indoors. No. The clammy chill was particularly jolting following the warm glow of the previous day, and it siphoned an extra measure of energy from my will. Once inside the warm farmhouse, my cheeks flushed red, I made “pack night spaghetti” (an easy meal), and curled up on the couch to do research for Home Wind Learning Center, an undertaking that soaked up my damp heaviness as though tumbled dry, sitting fluffy and warm from the heat of my muse. 






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