Through the years, I’ve remembered the hard parts about growing up in my family. Sometimes I think the good times are more private, too precious to share. Even before my…
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March 31, 2025 I walk into the cold, not dressed for it–no vest under my coat, my gloves mere calfskin. My hands are stiff and red by the time I…
Sometime Around March 18,2025 Two red wing blackbirds settled on twigs as I walked back towards the turn towards home. It’s good to see them again, to see them eyeing…
With the warnings about not rebelling like the children of Isreal at Meribah and Massah repeating in the Daily Office, I was caught by the following, words that caught me…
Saturday, March 15, 2025 I woke this morning to a hard wind and eerily hazy sky. The sun was blurred as if waxed paper was stretched over it. As I…
Monday, March 3, 2025 I stop at the neighbors’ mailbox. It marks a half mile where I turn to walk home. I’m not greedy about making more steps than a…
Notes from the Bitter Week I walk the dogs out into cold so frigid my face burns. My fingers burn if I didn’t curl them around to the handwarmers in…
I don’t know why I got to thinking about Del Logan. But it’s almost as though she came through the cloud of witnesses to sit beside me. This doesn’t happen….
I look to The Tree, an oak, multiple times a day. She draws my eyes to herself when I walk out to do chores or circle the dogs behind the…
Early, when angels and demons duel over their charges, I woke, my legs singing with electricity. Blondie’s song, “Call me, call me any day or night. Cover me with kisses,…