Welcome to my blog! There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My name is Sarah. I’ve lived my whole life in a beautiful hardwood forest in the foothills of South Carolina. It’s a small quiet life, in which the spawning of the baitfish is more important than the general election, and the drop in temperature than the drop of the Dow. I work sometimes as a birth doula and sometimes as a caretaker, but always as a gardener, and I still don’t know what Tik Tok is. I’m fond of English Roses, a long walk, a good story, afternoon tea and my husband Andrew, especially.
I’m a Christian. I love the Church. I love the Scriptures and I love what God has made, which is all things, and I love Jesus, because He first loved me.
Why Blind Mule? My grandfather was a man of colorful phraseology, and the saying Don’t worry about the mule being blind, just load the wagon was one of his favorites. Sometimes he used it in a proper context, meaning hey, just do your job, kid and sometimes he used it out of all logical context, just because he liked to mess with people.
Do you like my mule? Isn’t she grand? Annie drew her for me.
“I need a mule,” I told her in the church foyer, while the bells rang. “But just a simple one. It could even look like a donkey.” I like to say things like that to her, just to watch her face retain its serenity and composure.
Annie is something special. Besides being an artist, she’s also a mighty fine seamstress, specializing in authentic reproductions for reenactors, and she’s the proprietor of a rare and vintage bookshop. She speaks thoughtfully, walks quickly, loves patiently, reads avidly and if you need a knife, she’s got one. She’s also one of my very best friends.
You can write me at email@example.com if you wish, and I would love that.
For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
2 Corinthians 4:6