by Byron Ballard | Dec 3, 2017
As usual. As always. I grew up in west Buncombe on what was once a pretty little farmstead, with a lovely orchard, a root cellar, a springhead. My parents were not active stewards, shall we say, and the whole place was run-down by the time I was old enough to remember...
by Byron Ballard | Nov 14, 2017
I volunteered for a few hours today at a local historic home, the Smith-McDowell House. It is set up with rooms indicative of the history of the family—a local and prominent one—and they decorate lavishly for Christmas. My young friend Jenna and I had the 1870s...
by Byron Ballard | Jun 12, 2017
o dear… So…today I had brunch with my friends Mia and John, and my work-wife, Star. Mia asked me if I had posted where I’ll be appearing for the rest of the year and I looked at her blankly. Recovering what passes for my composure these days,...
by Byron Ballard | Mar 21, 2017
Gosh, I wish this was about me spinning all that pretty wool into yarn. Yeah, all that wool in the bag just over there–wool that came from my sheep-friend, Monkey Boy. Well, maybe it did. It’s been in that bag since shearing season last year. To be...
by My Village Witch | Jun 14, 2016
I’ve written rather a lot about Tower Time. For Cassandra figures like me, there is nothing satisfying about seeing visions come to fruition. We are experiencing the roiling change, the fear, the uncertainty that is almost programmatic in this enormous shift....
by ashevillewitch | Aug 22, 2014
Working in the gardens I tend is excellent exercise, provides healthy fresh food and affords me more opportunities to touch the sacred soil. I came away this morning from a general clean-out of beds in the Summer garden and was a sweaty, stinky mess. The wheel barrow...
