the storytelling heart of Heart of Care
Stories from Survival to Stability
a living storybook — not a corporate blog
Welcome to Stories from Survival to Stability, the storytelling heart of Heart of Care. These are real-life stories of healing, resilience, creativity, recovery, caregiving, faith, grief, hope, and the lessons learned along the way.
Pull up a chair on the porch. The kettle's on.
what you'll find inside
Chapters as we live them.
recent chapters
From the porch, the coop, and the studio.
Being the Family Scapegoat
The one who got hit, and then was told she started it. A Honey Badger word for anyone in a family that quietly elected them to carry it.
Read the story →
Busy Hands at the Cat Nap Inn
Handmade magnets on the fridge, Soul Cloth cuttings in the basket, studio-table making, community work, and the Eight Dimensions getting written into the website one honest piece at a time.
Read the story →
The Red Bullet Takes a Hit on I-95
A shredded tire on the off-ramp coming home from McIntosh County, a piece of the Red Bullet hanging off near the fender well, and a quiet honey-badger word about taking a beating and still rolling.
Read the story →Surfing the Wave: A Mother's Experience with Ambiguous Grief
Another wave came today — chest, throat, behind the eyes. A mother cannot simply move on from her children. On riding the wave and making it safely back to shore.
Read the story →Recovery and Ambiguous Grief
Fourteen years of recovery, and the grief that recovery does not erase. On loving people who are still alive but absent, riding the wave, and choosing life anyway.
Read the story →
The Gift I Couldn't Make
Ambiguous grief hiding inside a piece of art. A friend, a sunshiny day with my son, and the little handmade book I finally made once I cried at the kitchen counter and figured out what I was actually trying to do.
Read the story →Glitter, Glue, and Tiny Books: Making as Medicine
A morning at the studio table with miniature books, glitter, and glue. Small, sparkly handmade things as a kind of therapy — quiet proof the hands still know how to make beauty.
Read the story →Sitting in the Red Bullet at the Cat Nap Inn
Heather came home. The sky opened up. I sat in the Red Bullet and let the rain do the talking — elephant ears drinking, cannas leaning, a Honey Badger learning to let the day be the day.
Read the story →
For Betty and Lucy: Heather Lives on the Porch Now
The raccoons came to the 99 Retreat. Heather, the last of the original Cluckshack crew, has moved herself onto the Soul Cloth Sanctuary porch. A small grief, told gently.
Read the story →
From Survival Mode to Stability — Where the Story Begins
The long road out of just-getting-through, and the small ordinary things that kept me upright along the way.
Coming soon →
The Cranford Heirloom Collection — My Mother's Hands
Glass beads, brass clasps, and years of quiet making. How a collection became part of my own healing.
Coming soon →
The Honey Badger and the Last Oreo
On stubbornness as a survival skill — with crumbs, evidence, and very little remorse.
Read the story →
Stitching the Grief You Can't Say Out Loud
Soul cloth, reliquaries, and the small private rituals that hold a heart together.
Coming soon →
What Sage Knows — Wisdom on the Days I Can't Find Mine
The gentler side of the Honey Badger, and the practice of speaking to myself like family.
Coming soon →Letters from the Cluckshack
Betty has opinions. Lucy keeps the books. Heather, Ethel, and Georgia supervise from the high perch.
Read the story →
What Jesse James Taught Me About Boundaries
A boundary is not a fight. Sometimes it's just my bullpei getting up and leaving the room.
Read the story →
Spring at the 99 Retreat
Garden beds, lettuce that survived the deer, and one rooster with a complicated personality.
Coming soon →
Mr. Whiskers' Field Guide to a Slow Morning
Step one: do nothing. Step two: keep doing nothing. Step three: tea.
Coming soon →your story matters too
Share a story idea or testimonial.
Got a story you'd like to read here? A testimonial about how Heart of Care has touched your life? Send it to Briana — gently, in your own words.
stay in the story
New chapters land in your inbox.
No spam, no funnel — just letters from the porch when there's something worth saying.