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No matter the storm, home stays a haven.

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Because nature's first green is gold . . .

. . . and some hues should always be hers to hold.

An ongoing conversation about life, God, and the battle for peace, as told by a country girl turned courtroom advocate.  Hope grounded in occasional humor and strengthened by years of service, these essays remain a homage to those who have shaped me, taught me, and strengthened me.

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Blue-green outline of a poppy.

Why Forty Acres
and a Dream?

Because every dream starts somewhere and mine, for as long as I can recall, has centered around returning home to forty acres, a couple of dogs, and back-porch sunsets where even the most grizzled Scrooge can still find a spark of magic.

The Foundation

Picture of puppy running across field at sunset.
Forty Acres
and a Dream

     The land bore scars like we all did: great gashes where a tornado fell century-old oaks, where a shed had once stood, and where a trailer had moved several yards east.

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Dog standing in river framed by a bluebonnet.
The Things
We Can't Forget

         I remember rain falling that Easter, cool, crystalline drops.  I remember racing, laughing, for the patio and shelter; I remember cheap, plastic eggs coloring the yard like wildflowers. 

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La Joie de Vivre

     I couldn’t shake the joy of wildflowers that spring. Bluebonnets, buttercups, Indian paintbrushes bloomed in abundance roadside, painting the world blue, pinkish white, and red-orange.  

Mountain lake with fir trees.

Healing Through Grounded Essays

While based on a very real place, Forty Acres and a Dream embodies that old adage "home is where the heart is."  From inner city streets to alpine lakes, deliberate reflection brings clarity to some of life's more difficult moments.  While experience may remain the best teacher, we offer free tidbits of wisdom so that the reader (unlike us) need not learn through trial and error exactly how hot that metaphorical stove is.

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