Suzy Jacobson Cherry
Writer. Artist. Educator. Interspiritual Priestess. I write poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and thoughts on stuff I love.
Summer comes to the desert like the sudden entrance into a new world. Gone are the days when many of us stood in the lightly sun-kissed breeze and shared that “this is the reason I’ve stayed in Arizona.” Not so long ago there was the scent of spring upon the air – a memory of childhood anticipation of bright things to come. All of sudden, it seems, summer-time heat burst into our lives, turning cars into furnaces and rendering western kitchens unbearable when the evening sun streams in. All of a sudden, we find ourselves debating whether we love the heat or hate it; telling ourselves and everyone else, “Well, at least it’s a dry heat!” The conversation has turned to swimming pools and trips to the mountains even before school has let out the masses of young souls it has kept at bay these last nine months.
Mother's Day Thoughts
Today, we honor the gift of our mothers. We have so many kinds of mothers. The women who give birth to us, who give us our very first gift of life; the women who raise us, who sometimes are not the same person. If our birth mother is not ideal, and the gift of life is all she gives to us, perhaps there are others who step in and give us nurturing love. Perhaps they are the big sisters, the aunts, the cousins, the stepmothers, the neighbors, the teachers and the church ladies or female pastors or counselors who take our hands and guide us through our bumpy youth.
10 of My Favorite Childhood Books & Series
I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love books and stories. When I was a very little girl, my mother signed me up for the Dr. Seuss Book Club. My favorite was Red Fish Blue Fish. For a time, Mom would read us bedtime stories, but not the usual kind. Mom read us things like Poe’s “The Raven” and Coleridge’s “Rime of the Ancient Mariner” before bed. When she was not working, Mom always had her nose in a book, as she would say, and so did I.
10 Reasons Why Witches Love RenFaire
Any Renaissance Festival, Medieval Faire, Scottish Games, Viking Fest, or other gathering of that ilk will bring out the local Witches en masse. I’m not saying everyone who attends or works at these faires are Witches, nor am I saying all Witches enjoy said events. I’m just saying it’s a place beloved by practitioners of many magickal modes and mystical mythologies.
5 Things You Likely Won’t See at the Renaissance Festival
Renaissance Festivals are outdoor gatherings that provide entertainment, food, drink, and fun for visitors. The faires usually take place in imaginary Renaissance or Medieval villages, most often intended to be set in England, though there are some that are set in different eras and locations. There are many such events around the world.
7 Wild Creatures I’ve Seen in My Neighborhood
I don’t live in the country, but I don’t live in the city either. Our house is just about half a mile from the nearest freeway, so we have traffic noise. The housing in my neighborhood is mostly manufactured homes that were set here in the 1980s as winter homes for the snow birds from up north, so there’s a little space between us, but not as much as there would be if this were a rural area.
My "Medicare" Birthday
I turned 65 on Saturday, March 18, during this year's Arizona Renaissance Festival run. It turns out that there’s a birthday tradition among Rennies (i.e., RenFaire workers) that someone gives you a couple of dollars to pin to your garb so everyone knows it’s your birthday and maybe gives you a little more of the good green stuff.
House to Haven
It is just past midnight and the moon is not yet full. I am surrounded by houses in the small Maricopa County pocket that is considered East Mesa, Arizona. It’s a corner lot, yet there is no sharp turn, as the road gently passes in a rounded curve. In the not so far away distance, I can hear the rush of traffic on U.S. Highway 60. It is 2007, and I am but the toss of a stone away from my old modular home, yet I might as well be standing atop a Tor in ancient Briton.