THE CHILD It was a whirl-wind romance fraught with complications. No one knows for sure because no one talked even though asked...but The Child could surmise the complication was a drunken night on the town with him shipping out the next day to fight the end of a war, and her rebounding from a heartbroken,... Continue Reading →
CHAIR WITH MAN A reunion of as many siblings who could make the journey. It wasn't as long-planned as it was necessary. For some, those left who could still journey, came in great anticipation of sibling camaraderie, retelling and reliving memories, softening sibling youthful blows and jabs, but mostly an attempt to tamp down... Continue Reading →
PICNIC: 3PEARS2FIGS If we started counting... The bus drivers who take your children to school, or you to work. The paper-people who deliver your morning read to your front porch, the bush next to your front porch, or miss entirely and hit the roof. The cab driver who doesn't ask questions and doesn't sing,... Continue Reading →
DH IMAGINED He asked when can I meet you? How about I deliver myself to you on my thirty-ninth birthday? Chuckle. Then, he said...perfect. Seems like forever ago when we walked up to each other for the very first time. He looked at me and I him. What I saw for the first time...my... Continue Reading →
IT'S A TOSS UP NO IT'S A COW Both of my kids have a picture of a framed cow that graces a wall in each of their respective homes. They were born on a family dairy farm and know the value of hard work. They also know the value of working together and of... Continue Reading →
CONVERSATION CUL-DE-SAC She wasn’t an easy person...understand not in the infamous being easy sense, she just wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Safely said, her glass was always less than half-empty. Who is kidding whom? It was empty. My Reader might think this a rather harsh and hard-to-tell recollection of The Mother. She was exactly what... Continue Reading →
A WORK IN PROGRESS... Note: My grand-daughter just celebrated her 13th birthday. I know, I know. I didn't think I was old enough to have a thirteen year old grand child...and I'm not. Not really. But while My Reader debates the above "not old enough" statement, please read the letter I sent to My... Continue Reading →
Grandmother’s house was always dark. That’s what I recall anyway. The heavy drapes were always pulled shut which swathed the living room in darkness. The living room became an unmistakable cave when you entered through the front door. Grandmother’s house was always dark, but it also always smelled of blackberry jam. The scent was pungent.... Continue Reading →
As those two memories go they are sharp and clear because they happened on the very same day. That is what cemented both. Into solid childhood ground. I think The Reader has, probably, had some incidents or events that they can almost smell because they’ve remembered them so well, and for so long? I’m hoping... Continue Reading →
Jots from a Small Apt. 