by Darcy Wiley | May 21, 2012 | Pocket Change, Sweet Tea
My husband may as well have been driving us through the construction lane, dodging orange barrels and steamrollers, quaking the tires over unfinished asphalt, and slamming the brakes every 30 seconds, because that’s what my brain felt like it was doing with the...
by Darcy Wiley | May 17, 2012 | Buttons & Thread, Sweet Tea
Her dress stretched taut over her belly like fabric tightened across a needlepoint hoop. It was her third hiding in there, a girl after two boys. But no matter how many times I had seen it happen (or felt it happen), it could never get old, the chance to witness this...
by Darcy Wiley | May 9, 2012 | Pocket Change, Sweet Tea
Danger is not my middle name. Mine rings of safety– ”Lee,” the one whose feet tread nice and slow through grassy meadows. I am the cautious firstborn who once trembled at the thought of removing the Huffy training wheels, who accidentally did the splits the...
by Darcy Wiley | May 1, 2012 | Sweet Tea
In little droplets we give and get. 140 characters or less do their best to articulate the everyday mercy, the wide-eyed wonder, the treasure in the earthen vessel @thismoment. Maybe an instagr.am is like a thousand words; or maybe it’s more like a cave drawing, a...
by Darcy Wiley | Mar 6, 2012 | Sweet Tea
Tonight it’s the same as every night. We finish up the bedtime games, then let loose as a family quartet, the little ones singing so off melody that it becomes an accidental harmony. After bedtime prayer, we head toward the door to leave Elliot alone in the dark....
by Darcy Wiley | Feb 20, 2012 | Sweet Tea
Through the hunter green door, life as I knew it ran down the halls into history. Our firstborn squirmed in our arms, determined to put his feet to the wood where Washington once stood, and I’m sure he had plans for the porcelain dishes as well. The take-me-anywhere...