Years ago, when I was younger and learning that not everyone is like me, my college boyfriend and I went to a lake gathering with a friend of his from high school. The guy’s sister had a small, delicate butterfly tattoo on her ankle. In an aside to me, the boyfriend wondered if tattoos aren’t a bit questionable. I can’t remember the words he said, but it was clear that he seemed surprised to see a nice girl with whom he’d grown up sporting one. Sure, both of us had grown up i

The first time I contemplated a haven to myself was probably upon hearing the fairytale of Hansel and Gretel. True, there is an evil witch in the woods by herself, but that’s one heck of a she shed she’s got, trimmed in cake, icing, cookies and candy. Just don’t go knocking on her door. There’s something about playhouses and treehouses that make my heart sing. I never had either as a child, though I coveted both. The closest I ever came to having a quiet place of my own was m

I'm driving along in my car, minding my steering wheel, when purple fountain grass catches my eye. It’s waving like a spectacular part of a woman’s hat, plumes bobbing in an offhanded nod. That single, passing observation quickly takes me elsewhere. I discover I am once again twelve years old, and my green-thumb momma is on her knees in her bermuda shorts and sleeveless tank, the weekend uniform. She’s planting her beloved pampass grass near our driveway. The thriving grass b