My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Because I adore her and want to grow up to be her, I agreed to join Melisa’s NaBloPoMo game. (“Agreed” is a misnomer. I got called out.) If you’re unfamiliar with NaBlo… hell, National Blog Posting Month, the gist is that you write every day of November, and post those musings either to your blog … Continue reading Zombie Tree
When my grandfather died, he was buried in a small country cemetery in rural Ohio. His long funeral procession wended its way down two-lane roads on its path from the church. That was almost 40 years ago but I can still remember how other motorists pulled over to let us pass. Even today, recalling that … Continue reading 100 Word Challenge: Respect
They bicker like a couple of old magpies, harping at each other over their back fence. Myrtle fusses over her Corgi, Angus, eating the acorns that drop from Hester’s white oak tree, and Hester complains about the syrupy blooms from Myrtle’s ruby honeysuckle vines staining her white patio chairs a neon pink. On cold days, they … Continue reading Acorns and honeysuckle
When I was a small child, I would pull one of my father’s white T-shirts over my head just so my face was showing, the sleeves and my hair tucked inside to make it look like I was wearing an ecclesiastical wimple. I would tell my devout, Southern Baptist mother that I was going to … Continue reading Do unto others
The morning regulars are out early, up before the sun. Some habitués are jogging, a few are on bikes, but most are walking, moving briskly through our quiet neighborhood. After months of daily perambulation, I’ve come to recognize my fellow ramblers. On the curve along the marina, I pass Julia and Carol. We have our own … Continue reading Where everyone knows your name
Rosemary lived alone in a crude shack at the end of a neighborless dirt road, on a tiny scrub acre of rocky soil. Each spring, she worked her meager garden, breaking up dry earth with her broken-handled hoe, leaving meandering furrows in uneven rows. Her apron pockets filled with dried seeds and kernels from last … Continue reading Uncultivated simplicity
Thin spiral notebook 