“ Now I am shut up with his mother on Bramble farm and she is no better for conversation than prune whip ”
After all, a woman didn't leave much behind in the world to show she'd been there. Even the children she bore and raised got their father's name. But her quilts, now that was something she could pass on.
~ Sandra Dallas
You may hate being pregnant, but the minute the baby is born, she is God's precious child, given to you as a gift.
Stories were a living thing. They changed to suit the teller or the times.
She wasn't any bigger than a minute and had hair like wild gold, and she was always merry as a marriage bell.