Meredith Harmon
Bio
Mix equal parts anthropologist, biologist, geologist, and artisan, stir and heat in the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country, sprinkle with a heaping pile of odd life experiences. Half-baked.
Achievements (24)
Stories (442)
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The Muses of Song
I’ve wandered around quite a lot over the years. No, I no longer have a corporeal body. I haven’t had one in millennia, though the poets still ascribe one to me. And please don’t get me started on those Eros-struck painters and their lascivious paintings! Really, guys, go take a cold bath. A long one. My cousin Boreas will supply you with lots and lots of ice.
By Meredith Harmonabout a year ago in Fiction
Quilting a Nation. Top Story - February 2025.
I cried as I sewed the latest patch into the quilt. My tears stained the delicate fabric, and neither I nor the others gathered around the frame made a move to wipe them clean. I heard, much later, that one of the little embroidery girls stitched gossamer threads around each splash.
By Meredith Harmonabout a year ago in Fiction
A Sharp Spoke of the Wheel
As far as we know, the social cycle theory goes back at least as far as ancient Greece. Heck, even the word cycle comes from the ancient Greek word kyklos, which implies that they were looking back at other cultures and civilizations we don’t know much of anything about, and coming to the same conclusions.
By Meredith Harmonabout a year ago in The Swamp
The Case of the Disappearing Lard Bucket
I may be going to hell for this one, but if I go, at least you’ll all know why. Let’s just say my grandfather was what they called “a piece of work.” Definitely a product of his time – a bit racist, a bit homophobic, thought he knew what was right and proper for his family at all times, and got completely baffled when he was inevitably ignored by subsequent generations.
By Meredith Harmonabout a year ago in Families
Saving a Life
I don’t like to brag. I like telling stories, and I like entertaining my audience. Or making them think, or making them uncomfortable in ways that will galvanize them to positive social action. I wouldn’t say I’m the hero of the stories I tell about myself, because I don’t see myself as one. I’m a human trying to be the best human I can be, without getting burned by the not-humans out there that walk around on two feet. Makes them hard to tell apart from the real people, for sure.
By Meredith Harmonabout a year ago in Photography
Proof of Life
I know it’s tiny and hard to see, but can you guess what this is? Though there are water droplets on the back side of this leaf, that biggest drop-looking thing is an empty, clear, egg case. The black spots are the eyes, and the yellow smudge behind it is the caterpillar body.
By Meredith Harmonabout a year ago in Photography
