“Youth is our biological and physiological homeland.  There, we know our way.  And even if in our nostalgic memories the sun shines where it was actually dark, still we are familiar with the pitfalls and perils of youth.  We know... Read More

    I’m on the edge of my seat as I await the arrival of my cream tea in the ironically named sunroom at the Argyll Hotel. I have the room to my self, journal at hand, soundlessly, charcoal clouds... Read More

I think my superpower is listening. I am very quiet, patient, attentive. But sometimes I think I forget this is a superpower. In the past, I have been too quiet, too attentive. I forget to speak. So on occasion I... Read More

My father died April 13, 2018, 60 years to the day after he gave my mother a promise pin in the spring of ’58. She was 19. He was 24. Long marriage. Made good on the promise. Four kids. They... Read More

I am the mother of a beautiful girl who was born in Jiangxi Province, Peoples Republic of China. No doubt most of you are aware of the Chinese one child policy and its implications for Chinese girls. When we first... Read More

  Until about a year ago I had a secret belief Which the hyper-rational me hid Because she could not hold it. Growing up on the edge of a northern forest Abutting tall pines and peeling birches A place of... Read More

  I was made a dog person by my first chocolate lab, green eyes, anxious insistent tail, hot breath panting, toss after slobbery toss, she made me hers, she was mine.   My first true love, never critical or unkind,... Read More

And I thought Jesus would come before I turned 30! I’ve more than doubled that projected year, and the thought of Jesus’ return is no longer troubling for fear of my friends and loved ones (unrepentant and unsaved) missing the... Read More

I have a basket in my bathroom filled with make-up; 2 or 3 eyeliners, several shades of blush and too many to count colors and types of mascara.  I admit it, I am a make-up whore. No, I won’t perform... Read More

Ode to the Yellow House Both of my babies were born in front of a blue couch inside a little yellow house we named after the radical socialist Eugene V. Debs. Alice came in August the house still adjusting to... Read More