Writings by Catherine Babbitt
Hetty’s mind slipped to the few hours priors. She could feel the bright winter sun on her skin, a reminder of the past days of warmth when autumn had reigned and bestowed its easy days and cool nights.
Read More PARTICLES OF BLOOD: The UndergroundHetty stared at her hands splayed on her lap, covered in blood. She studied the blood’s different life stages—wet, sticky, dry, flaky—and blew warm breath onto her raised hand. Minute particles of blood floated into the air.
Read More PARTICLES OF BLOODThere are twice as many knitters as golfers in North America. Still, if you walk into any airport in North America, you can find a golf magazine but not a knitting magazine, even though you can’t golf on a plane. – Stephanie Pearl-McPhee This is pretty funny if it’s true, but I couldn’t verify. I […]
Read More The Curious Hands that KnitMasks and frightening costumes,
scaring friend and stranger alike.
Stringed glow sticks, bulbous spiders,
spindly legs, warped goblin heads,
rotten teeth, foul breath.
A life filled with living creates many memories, sometimes not so readily remembered, at least not all that accurately. When I was a small child, I started a journal, my attempt at anchoring my life, though I know I wouldn’t have called it that then.
Read More ANCHORING LIFEHorizontal winds blow, invisible,
scissoring through trees and yellowing grasses.
Weathered Well 