Because I'm an only child, I spent most of my early years creating story lines by myself. Sometimes I served as narrator of a tale. Other times I played a character in the action. One of my favorite stories involved the daffodil fields in my grandparents' chicken lot. I assume my grandmother planted the bulbs…
When Cliff and I first got together, he loved recounting his teenaged summers with friends, traveling across America to hear Janis Joplin, The Yardbirds, Jimi Hendrix, The Allman Brothers, Jefferson Airplane...The whole suede fringe set. He'd often ask: "Do you know who that is?" I listened politely. Every time. One day he told me again…
Easter happened one week ago with particularly cold, blustery weather. Our next-door neighbors rallied, nevertheless. Three generations shared games outdoors. Bundled up in coats, little girls ran with a big neon egg. Their pastel dress hems flapped in the wind. Indoors, candy-filled baskets delivered by the Easter Bunny undoubtedly lined the hearth. Easter, beyond the…
I went into motherhood thinking I'd create one treasured moment after another in Maggie's childhood. The house we bought in North Carolina was bordered by brilliant azaleas and pink and white dogwoods. It looked like a fairy squadron descended on us each spring. I decided we should establish beautiful gardens for an equivalent ground game.…
I grew up with powerful parents. Not because they were rich and famous, but because they knew the value of daydreaming. My father once brought home several huge empty boxes from his office and asked me to imagine what my perfect playhouse would look like. I drew it. He cut and taped boxes together in…
A story precedes every child. Some are happy. Some, horrific. Our daughter's first chapter was written in desperation. By four adults. On both sides of the ocean. After Cliff and I settled in Wisconsin, becoming parents was the hardest challenge we ever faced. In and out of medical offices for years, we were finally referred…
You have no idea what you'll learn during the first year of marriage. When I made a batch of chocolate chip cookies, Cliff commented, "The recipe says four dozen. That's not what you got." "I eat a lot of dough," I replied nonchalantly. When he made a cake, I noted, "It didn't rise much." He…
I woke up to overhead scratching outside at 5:25 am last week. From her pillow on the floor, Maria's head shot up, too.The noise moved along the eaves, followed by a persistent clawing at the wood. I knew this sound from two years ago when a snowy owl slept in our attic. When the carpenter…
August marked our second year in Milan, Ohio. To borrow one of my mother's chipper expressions, we are "right as rain" in this curious place. Cliff has become a gentleman farmer, planting tomatoes, asparagus, strawberries, and squash. (Read my post Ohio Gothic for clarification and pertinent picture.) He scouted for a volunteer opportunity and chose…
Because Christmas has a lot of moving parts, I begin holiday hamster wheeling in October. Where to set the tree? Same room in the corner? A different room? Color theme for the paper and ribbons? Depends on where I place the tree, of course. Cookie assortment? What goes in the new front porch flower pots?…
