People thought we were out of our minds. Eight kids. Two adults. One rusty trailer full of mismatched boots, worn-out baby toys, and a sourdough starter I barely knew how to use. We had no real plan—just a chunk of land out past nowhere and a shared dream that maybe, just maybe, we could build something real. We weren’t farmers. I’d barely kept a houseplant alive. But life in the city was squeezing the soul out of us. My partner was working double shifts, I was drowning in laundry and noise, and the kids… man, they were growing up in…
Author: World Wide
He didn’t say much on the drive out. Just stared out the window, his hand resting lightly on the armrest like it was holding onto something I couldn’t see. I asked him a few things—half-hearted questions about the old place, about what he expected to find—but he just gave this small, quiet smile. The kind people wear when they’ve packed too many words into a suitcase they haven’t opened in a long time. We hadn’t talked much before this. Not really. He was my biological father, but we met just a few months ago. I was 24 when I found…
So that’s her—Maple. Yeah, I named her after syrup. She’s got that warm, sweet, everything’s-gonna-be-okay kind of energy. I found her tied to a cart return outside Walgreens, just sitting there like she was waiting for someone who clearly wasn’t coming back. I brought her home without thinking twice. She didn’t even bark—just curled up on my living room rug like it was the first time she’d felt safe in months. I bought her toys, treats, a ridiculous pink teddy bear Cassie dropped off. She loves that bear like it’s her job. And honestly? It’s the first time my apartment…
I don’t even remember walking into the restaurant. I just needed to sit. Somewhere with lights and noise and people who wouldn’t ask questions. My hands were shaking so bad I spilled half the drink before I could even open the lid. I must’ve looked like a mess—makeup smudged, coat half zipped, hair tangled from the wind and the crying and the panic. I couldn’t touch the food. Just stared at it like it belonged to someone else. Then she walked in. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. Not someone I’d call a friend. Not someone who should’ve…
He came into the shop every Thursday morning. Always with a smile, always smelling faintly of sawdust and motor oil. But today, there was something different. Today, his jacket was zipped halfway up, and a tiny paw was sticking out of it. Fast asleep, tucked right against his chest, was a kitten. Cream-colored fur, ears twitching like she was dreaming about a world with no hunger or fear. I asked him where she came from. He scratched his neck, looking sheepish. “Found her in a ditch behind the lumber yard,” he said. “Cold and crying. Didn’t have the heart to…
Looking stunning as usual, Miley Cyrus turned some heads with her all-black ensemble at the 2025 Met Gala in New York City. The “Flowers” hitmaker donned a custom Alaïa by Pieter Mulier outfit with jewelry from Cartier. She kept her hair simple with a slick-back style. While at the famous event, Miley stated the “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style” theme meant ‘celebrating identity and uniqueness” and “challenging what’s expected of you and going beyond.” “Really being proud of yourself and how you show up,” she pointed out. “I think of these gowns as, like, armor. It’s a representation of power and…
So last night, I did the whole bedtime routine—bath, stories, lullabies, the usual bribes about extra pancakes if they actually stayed in their own beds. My daughter, Lira, has her room decked out in unicorns and twinkle lights, and my son, Cyrus, is across the hall with his dinosaur sheets and every stuffed animal he owns. I tucked them in, did the final round of hugs, and closed their doors thinking I’d finally get a few hours of peace. Cut to about 2 a.m.—I wake up to an eerie quiet. Not even the usual shuffling sounds from the baby monitor.…
We were halfway through the fourth inning, and honestly, I was more focused on keeping Baxter cool than watching the score. It was Bark at the Park night, and my golden retriever was loving every minute of it—ears perked, tail thumping, nose working overtime. People kept stopping to pet him, and he soaked it all up like he was the mayor of the stadium. I turned for maybe thirty seconds to grab my drink. That’s all it took. When I looked back, Baxter was sitting proudly in the aisle, wagging like a maniac… with a fully loaded hot dog hanging…
He was up before me that morning, fully dressed, both shoes on the wrong feet, waiting by the door like he was about to board a rocket ship. “Ready?” I asked, trying to keep it together. First day of kindergarten. Big stuff. He nodded, clutching his new red Lightning McQueen backpack like it held the secrets of the universe. But then he turned around and grabbed another one—same character, smaller, clearly overstuffed. “Why do you need two bags, buddy?” He looked up at me, calm and serious in that way only five-year-olds can be when they think they know everything.…
