The Flowers Are Out at Skylands Manor

Skylands Manor is the writer’s paradise. It is sprawling, rolling hills, is it decrepit fountains, it is aged stone statues styled for Artemis and Diana and Aphrodite, arms missing, moss coloring their feet. It is tucked away corners where rakish lords can seduce adventurous ladies, great lawns, perfect for early morning duels, the hope of ballrooms and back patios, where one escapes the oppressive heat but finds a new type of heat in the arms of a lover.

You Know Nothing, Holland Rae

In the great spectrum of history and the universe, my Bachelor’s degree does not hold up to the onslaught of information, facts, figures, and theories that make up all of humanity, nature, and what we do not know. And that’s awesome.