It strikes me that I have days like Sunday which seem to be a beautiful weaving of threads: red, blue, and all the other colors of the rainbow.
Groundhog Day
Today I’m celebrating something that happened several decades ago when Hopscotch House, belonging to the Kentucky Foundation for Women in Louisville, was just getting started and we needed an executive director.
No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
By an unfortunate coincidence, both of these houses are in danger of losing their primary purpose.
The Vanguard
I am looking forward to the rare opportunity that will be offered me, and I’m looking forward with even more interest to the fascinating variety of presentations that will make up the program.
Groundhog Pâté
I might have forgotten Groundhog Day entirely except for a box that’s just arrived from my dear friend, Wren Smith, in Kentucky.
In A Dark Time
How ironic and, yet, how strangely fitting, that this flying virus arrives at the middle of Women’s History month and just before the April 7 publication of The Silver Swan…
When a Great Woman Dies
When a great woman dies, we need to think about her again and again.
Wolf Pen at Twilight
A community limited to those who look like us will never be a community, which can only be formed through an amalgamation of differences and the necessary level of trust.
Spurring Us Forward
I believe there are young women, as well as older women and certainly some men, who are beginning to claim this noble, long-rooted word—feminism—that connects us to a heroic tradition as well as spurring us forward into the future.
Hopscotch House
Thirty years ago, it was a big plain farmhouse on a high rise of pasture when I first saw what would become Hopscotch House.