I wake up to a still darkened sky, illuminated by the moon as clouds shift through and around her.
The alarm doesn’t need to wake me. Instead, the sound of the surf and a tiny click click click alerts me to the fact that I want to be awake now.
Time to tend to my garden. Continue reading
I don’t like pot pie. Well, deep inside I do, since my blood is English – way back to my great-great grandparents. So sure, I like pot pie the same way I like rose gardens and floral wallpaper and hot tea with milk.
But I used to never eat pot pie because, to be honest, it’s fattening; all flour and butter in the crust; butter and flour in the gravy; and then a speck of chicken in there. With maybe a pea or two. Continue reading
As I sit in the car in utter fear and mortification, counting, counting, counting, I wonder: what has led me to this humiliating, horrible experience?
Is it because of some deep-seated hatred for my brother?
No. I shake my head vehemently as I whisper 77, 78, 79… I love my brother. Continue reading
Hanging ornaments on a Christmas tree is one of the finest pleasures of the Christmas season.
Because, of course, we’re not just hanging a silver glittery ball or a tiny red straw Santa.
We’re hanging memories.
Over the fall I made a book review sheet for each of my three grandsons who live on the other coast. These boys, ages 6-10, rarely stop moving enough to read. But of course I send them books every other month with hope in my heart.
I sweetened the book review deal with the promise of giving them a $5 Amazon gift card for each review they return. I sent them each three blank reviews. Continue reading
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