A new telling of an old story… I have always loved stormy weather. As a little girl I would run outside and stand under the eaves at the first sign of rain, sticking a hand or foot out into the downpour despite my mother’s strict order to stay sheltered. The[…]
Last night the moon rose large and luminous over the pine trees behind the neighbor’s house. Always beautiful, whether showing a sliver of bare shoulder above a gown of star speckled black or staring down at us, full-figured and lovely, proudly flaunting the rich curving body of night. Body of[…]
I have not forgotten about Yemeni Journey…in fact I have been thinking about it a lot, as I start down the path of making it into an actual book, insh’Allaah. Mash’Allaah, though, there have been many distractions this month keeping me away from writing as I would like. Alhamdulillah, Allaah[…]
This weekend we made our first poetree. Ever tried it? Now’s the time to start. The children simply blossomed when we did ours. Curious? Read my post at Wide Earth.
There is a time of day, between waking and sleeping, between dream and reality, between one breath and the next, when I feel Yemen as close as my own heart’s blood. The years we spent in the mountains there, breathing ancient air, walking ancient paths, clasping the past and present[…]
When my husband and I began our first, tentative inquiries to each other when we were contemplating marriage, one of the things that came up and immediately bonded us was our desire to homestead. We wanted to get some land and raise our family away from the hustle and bustle[…]
You can’t imagine the joy I felt when our package from Pinetree Seeds arrived in the mail yesterday. After nine years of being unable to play in the dirt, unable to nourish little plant lives, unable to share with my family the goodness of home grown vegetables and herbs, the[…]
The sound of life here in America is almost deafening at times. Last night I found myself suddenly wide awake. The air had that middle of the night feeling, as if the world was holding its breath, waiting for some silent signal before it let its shoulders down with a[…]
Last evening as the girls cooked supper and my husband and I talked over plans, we heard the calls from various masaajid to come and pray the eclipse prayer. Mu’aadh, our eight year old, excitedly burst in and asked if he could go and pray. After my husband left I[…]
The shoreline here is littered with the refuse of a village; or perhaps, villages- I don’t know how much of what is on the shore is washed up from other places, perhaps miles and miles away. Walking along, one reads the stories in a ripped net, an antibiotic bottle, a[…]
