I sit at my great-grandmother’s knee on the porch of her old farmhouse. A tangle of wool sheared from her Cheviots sheep, dyed a bright yellow from sedge grass I gathered last fall, is wound loosely around my hands. She lifts the wool from my outstretched arms, twisting the yarn into a small ball of … Continue reading Spinning yarns
A diet of lemon water and rice cakes holds the promise of svelte limbs and a flat stomach. Faux curls and a touch of rouge only add to the fleeting illusion of youth.