We have brought many things from our old lives to our modest camper, the one we are calling home for a few months until we figure out life here in North Dakota. Our smaller duck mounts are hanging in the miniscule bedroom. The wooden signs that used to adorn our log walls now add some color to the otherwise mundane bathroom decor. The magnets, the ones that previously held documents to our lovely refrigerator, grip tightly to the stove hood, the only metal surface upon which they are able to cling. The table is home to my old reading lamp, a stack of napkins held down by weathered antlers from a North Carolina deer, and an equally-antlered picture frame. Underneath the glass frame stands a black-and-white picture of my grandparents on their wedding day.
The Writing huntress
I hunt. I write. I wear what some consider an unnecessary amount of camouflage face paint.