My So Charmed Life

Sweet Charlotte



Before reading this post, please know that Molly, age 8 at the time, took all of these gorgeous farm photos with a disposable camera.

Each Fall, we spend a day visiting with our rescued friends at Poplar Spring Animal Sanctuary–400 acres of heaven located a stone’s throw from the bustle of city life. We have our faces painted, roam the grounds, eat fabulous vegan food, and have all kinds of opportunities to snuggle up with the hogs, pet the goats and sheep, and (scroll down) hold a chicken… all while tens of thousands of dollars are being raised to support this dear place.


On those warm sunny days, I often think of one of my favorite childhood books, E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web, the first work of literature that that I remember touching me deeply with its terrors (Farmer Arable and his errant son Avery dispassionately wielding their axes and shotguns at the baby pig!), joys (much of the rest of the story) and sorrows (death, particularly) regarding love, friendship and the cycle of life.

Reading the book again with Molly, it resonated in newly profound ways… still about love and friendship and life and death, but also politically, as well as a treatise on the sheer power and potential salvation of the written word (um, not to mention advertising, which is essentially my chosen profession).

If you haven’t read this book don’t read this next pp. At the end, White writes of Wilbur the pig’s love for his dear friend Charlotte the spider (who essentially saves his life but does in fact die): “She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.”


Some pig! Terrific! Radiant!

No, I am not trying to work a radiantly pregnant-at-50 look in this photo. For goodness sake people, I’M HOLDING A CHICKEN. Even the boy behind me knows how alarmingly special this is. But, I really do look pregnant, don’t I? Trust me. I’m not. And if you’ve never held a chicken, it’s well worth looking pregnant for, so there.

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