Rather than descending into crankiness, I decided on my last trip away from home to give it a try. So here goes…
Rose B. Simpson: Leaving Fingerprints Behind
I remember when I first met Rose at her booth in Santa Fe’s August Indian Market. She had hung an astonishing large color photograph on the front of her booth…
Snow
I think we women writers sometimes scant the snow, and the weather in general, in favor of the human characters that obsess us.