I open the door to release restless pups, and they gallop into the yard, dawn breaking overhead. I open the refrigerator to grab peppers, onions, garlic, and ginger, with the gorgeous low-on-the-horizon beams flooding my kitchen. I pick out dropped leaves which lie among my flame red poinsettias, no matter how carefully I attend their food-making needs. These observations mark mid-winter. We in the northern hemisphere are inching toward equinox, toward sprouting bulbs and passerine symphonies.
By Kay Strickland
I am a keeper of my family's lore, chasing after my ancestors' tales in south central New York, southwestern Pennsylvania and Southside Virginia. The stories and photographs that I share on this blog are my intellectual property. While I do my very best to provide well researched posts, I do not pretend to have reached genealogical proof standards. Therefore, much of this work is to generate conversation among interested parties. If you would like to share my work or my records, please contact me: dkaysdays (at) gmail (dot) com.View Archive →