North Carolina

Our family in the hills, on a farm, chickens and sometimes cattle or a little donkey.  Two girls (seven years), one up and coming gentleman in a dollar bow-tie and two long-haired parents with a sense of humor.  Shouts and grins and home cooking and a flowering garden in a Blue Ridge Mountain frame.  We had such a good time and miss you already and are so happy for the spot you found and the life you’re making and all the dancing, fun, and frolic–and thanks for lending us your hat:

Busking for our daily bread in daily Asheville, rippling with street performers and they invite you to join their guild for one evening only and families are out wandering and the streets are lined with shops.

Visiting with Dana and Eric and Jocelyn in their intentional village where they live like Ewoks in the trees and up the hillside in round huts using ancient Mongolian technology and intentional innovations.  Stone steps set in the hills, bunnies hopping, shaped clay and clay-clad feet, a creek leading the way to their front door, beautiful wooden patterns in lattice like a pie, and a kitchen decked out with functional art:

Back to Waynesville for an evening gig in comfortable Blue Ridge Books, while attendees dine and candles flicker:

And a Waynesville tradition, the four times a year clog and dance and everyone joins in:

Lake Junaluska and the geese and ducks and swans and Porters:

Rose lined walk with my beautiful blossom, scent of Summer wafting over the lake, enticing bees:

Swinging way up in the children’s weeping willow:

And just because Waynesville is small enough to find your family at the lake on the way home from errands, you can sneak onto the path ahead of them and hide on the hillside to surprise them: