Idaho today. Gone tomorrow.
I came to Uganda the mother of one child and left a mother to many and Mama to Denis. I wasn’t expecting to have children at my age. I wasn’t expecting to have sons and daughters who look nothing like me, who are Ugandans, but I do. They chose me and I chose them. They call me Mama though I can’t take credit for the fine men and women they already are. No matter. These will all do big things in the future, things I hope to have a little hand in.
In many regions of Uganda, greeting visitors with singing and dancing is sign of welcome and respect. Returning the greeting in kind is good form.
In a country with such needs, such poverty and despair, for those inclined to compassionate service, Uganda can be overwhelming. Where do we start and
“They pray a lot in this country but nothing ever gets done.” Overheard (and purposely unatttributed) in Entebbe Someone once asked me what I’d like
A rancher’s daughter and former county supervisor (commissioner), I used to be among those suspicious of conservation easements. Not anymore. I love people, agriculture, and
The pansies outside the Embassy Suites in Lexington were toast Tuesday afternoon. At least I thought they were. Planted a week ago, said the gal
Dispatches From Out West 