Stories With Heart And Soul 
This week, rain dripped from gutters with the steady pace of a metronome. It was soothing but also slightly sinister like the rhythm in an Alfred Hitchcock film just before the murder. Under the charcoal rubbed sky, trees were black and arthritic with branches bent in pain, and the grass was drowning. Far worse, the
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Home alone in the morning, I made pancakes served on handmade ceramics. Even a tiny clay pitcher for the maple syrup. I added a handcrafted juice cup and napkin just because. Perfection. I adore a handmade table setting.Table set and pancake done, I sat at the kitchen counter with the newspaper and took the first
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