of self love, vulnerability, and of course, donkeys
When you wake up, do you feel a balloon in your throat, too? Or maybe it's a corset: too small and too snug, cinched up tighter than poor Kate Winslet's mom did to her in 'Titanic.' "Hold still," I think she said before she yanked again. Or is it that feeling of having had too... Continue Reading →
For the third day in a row, it’s pouring. My grumpy donkeys huddle together in the barn as the rain batters the tin roof so loud that it rattles my bones---it must be deafening to their large ears. After piling their feeders with extra hay in lieu of typical grazing time, I pull the hood... Continue Reading →
A Donkumentary 