Willow Branches

reddirtlattes/ February 27, 2018

Deep within the dark Pacific Northwest winter I went to the island nursery to get some eucalyptus branches for my bathroom. It not being the season for eucalyptus branches the gentleman offered me some cut willow tree. I asked him if they would last long. He said you could actually stick a willow branch into dirt and it will grow

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The Island

reddirtlattes/ February 26, 2018

It all started with a kitchen.  While searching and gathering everything I could about Quebec and Ottawa, Vancouver and Toronto, learning about cities and schools and neighborhoods my husband sent me a link to a house for sale with a kitchen that stopped everything.  The house was nothing to look at, but this kitchen, THIS KITCHEN was everything. The kitchen was

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The In-between

reddirtlattes/ February 23, 2018

I almost became a goat cheese farmer.  When I crawled out from under the bed, once Canada was decided upon, the question became, okay, but where?  I’ve always been a foodie. I love to cook. Sicilian blood runs within me; I was reared in Southern hospitality. I really didn’t have a choice. It’s as much me as my breath. So

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Tell Me Your Life

reddirtlattes/ February 21, 2018

Drowning in Uganda I lay on blogs as my raft. Floating in words, pictures, I found hope and inspiration. I’ve always loved biographies, documentaries. Even as an actress, telling narrative tales, I devoured true stories. Tell me your life, your stumbles, your successes, your humiliations. Tell me how you did it, how you live it, how you survive it.  Even

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Red, White, and Guns

reddirtlattes/ February 18, 2018

I am from Florida. Most of my family still lives in Florida. I want my heart to break for the school victims, I want to cry and scream, and it did and I do, but my heart can’t break much more because it’s already broken. It broke with Sandy Hook. It gave up with Sandy Hook. If little children dying

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The Unraveling

reddirtlattes/ February 16, 2018

Uganda was familiar yet so much had changed. It still remains running in my blood, when I look at my daughter I am there, she wraps the county around me so I can still smell it and feel it, even long for it. I see in her the people I knew for 4 years, the people on the street, in

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Three years later…..

reddirtlattes/ February 12, 2018

Three years, or there about…I’ve lost track of time. We have been on a tiny island for so long now it seems as though time has stopped. We paused. We rested. We exhaled. So many stories to tell, so many stories to come.. …how we got to this island. …how we fled Uganda. …how to Africa we are about to

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