My life now was so far removed from the life I had had growing up, from anyone else’s I knew, in fact, that I moved deeper and deeper into the memories of my grandparents and great-grandparents, to their stories of survival and perseverance and connectedness to the land. Their spirits guided me, provided me solace and wisdom, and they came to me at the oddest times, when I was folding laundry or frying an egg, when I was walking down to the barn with my dogs each morning or shutting the goats in their stalls. They came to me when I was cooking dinner, when the kitchen was close and sticky,
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