Marriage carried this God fearing, high heel wearing, country-loving girl thirty miles south towards Atlanta, far away from the foothills she grew up in. Practical life in a subdivision, became a rewarding but exhausting race from car pool line to car pool line. 3 boys later, she’d forgotten who she really was. But sometimes fate has a funny way of stepping in when we need it most and giving us a second chance. That girl found herself back on five acres not far from the little house she grew up in. A few barefoot walks and simple conversations with local Appalachian craftsmen reminded her of a tomboy who used to spend her afternoons writing in her journal and drawing the things that made life special to her. An artist who was almost lost forever found herself again in the only place she ever really could have—home.
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