Dandelion dent-de-lion lion's tooth Wreaths of golden courage cresting a milky stem surrounded by spring's first food Yellow face facing the yellow sun reaching with swift confidence Petals turn to puffs a magnetic sphere calling all to wish upon it Courage fuels desire of-heart becomes of-life imagination, reality.

  Maker post! I found a single hank of Hedgehog Fibres sock yarn on sale at Yarn Kandy that I needed something to do with, and Kandy suggested a Ranunculus   (link goes to Ravelry). I held the sock with a strand of Shibui Knits Silk Cloud for the body, and I enjoyed both the process and the finished product of this, to the extent that I'd like to make another. I'm beginning to like knits designed for layering, and the higher hemlines. It was a gratifying small wearable after spending a solid month working on this delicious monstrosity. I designed Affirmation  for Needlehook Fibers, and you can find the pattern (with the yarn!) on her website. It's meant to feel like a big hug (who doesn't need one of those right now?) and the lace panel down the center is memorizably geometric. Something I try to do is knit a Mother Bear Project bear  anytime someone I know has a baby - but, there's a lot of seaming involved, so it usually takes me awhile to make one, once I factor

I have observed a phenomenon in some people that I call "directional insecurity." It's when someone hears the GPS tell them "take the exit" and the exit sign says that is goes to the place they're trying to get to, but the person then doesn't take the exit and ends up calling for help from an intersection several miles away from where they should be. This baffled me for a long time - why can't people follow directions?  - until my husband (who is good to shift my black and white tendencies into the grey areas of nuance and empathy) pointed out that at its core it's a lack of confidence in ones own ability to follow directions. A constant questioning of ones own judgment and discernment. That is - how shall I put this? - not something I struggle with. Yes, I tend to do a lot of research before attempting something new, but then I apply my research in the field, with confidence. I knew how to get from where I would be living to where I would be wor

Honesty greets you at the door and shows you around The Green Corner Store. Located in a 120 year old building in the SoMa district of Little Rock, every element, from the items on the shelves to the reclaimed antique fixtures that hold them, is consistent with owner Shelley Green's goals for her business. "It really started as an educational thing," Shelley says, "but people were asking me where they could get supplies for green living, and I realized there was a need." And so, twelve years ago, The Green Corner Store opened its doors. The focus then, as now, was to be local supplier of (mostly) Arkansas-local goods, curated around the concept that what is good for you is good for the planet, too, and that our small choices about what we purchase and where we buy it from can collectively change the world for the better. Shelley chooses natural cleaning products, baby supplies, eco bath and body, and a great array of locally produced snacks, accessories, clothin

We lived across the country from my grandparents for much of my childhood. The trip to visit took a day, maybe two, depending on where we were coming from at the time, and as the only non driver in the family unit, I was handed a map and taught how to read it at the age of six, contributing as navigator. I'd get a directive like "we'll be hitting Nashville close to rush hour so I'd like to go around instead of through" and I'd give orders like "in two miles you'll be taking exit 147A on the left toward Lebanon so you should start getting over now" and the driver would actually do what I said. It was a very-confidence building experience. A map of my favorite place to write I still love maps, and I have a broad definition of what I consider a map. There's the traditional sort, of course - wide earth made flat, roads and river unimaginably long and broad now traceable with a fingertip. I'm not averse to using GPS, especially if I'm goin

I met Cathy Shaneyfelt at a letter writing workshop she held at Bella Vita Jewelry in January of 2020, but she'd founded the Little Rock Letter Writers League in February of 2017, and has been an advocate for the importance of snail mail since well before that. As a teen, she worked in a Hallmark store, and as an adult she and her mother corresponded across town. Cathy cherishes the memories those letters preserve - not only in their words, but also in the stationery and penmanship.  "She really was my mentor as far as doing the actual sending of mail," says Cathy. "All of the notes that were extra special to me I’ve kept. Someone’s handwriting is as unique as it gets." Pre-pandemic, the Little Rock Letter Writers League gathered monthly in a library meeting room - now they try to meet once a season, over Zoom. Either way, the format is the same. Everyone brings their paper, pens,  washi, stamps, and other supplies, and most importantly, a sense of intention. &

A phrase I used to say often was "where's your sense of adventure?!" usually in response to pushback against one of my ideas. Multiple people have affectionately threatened to put it on a T-shirt for me. Gradually though I began to crumble under the weight of being repeatedly outvoted and stopped presenting my ideas since it seemed no one wanted them. And at last I stopped asking myself where my own sense of adventure had gone. I knew that Helen Keller wrote, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing," but I wasn't familiar with the rest of the quote until I looked that part up: "To keep our faces toward change and behave like free spirits in the presence of fate is strength undefeatable." I've faced a lot of change, and I've generally done so with denial, whining, or a bulldozer approach. Those haven't proven particularly effective. I am fairly reasonable about changing myself - altering outdated beliefs, and integrating new inform