A True Story from Home Marilee and her sisters cooked up a storm in Aunt Emma’s kitchen— checkerboard cakes, popsicles made from fresh cow cream, and Aunt Emma’s squirrel dumplings. They’d haul vegetables in from the garden, eating the asparagus on their way back to the farmhouse. Marilee’s family lived in a Missouri suburb but … Continue reading Aunt Emma’s Kitchen
I met Darlene at the café on the first floor of the doctor’s building. And before I met her, I heard her ordering at the counter. The cashier had asked how she was doing, and she had answered with: Not wonderful. She had an elbow propped on the counter and her gray head in her … Continue reading Coffee and a Breakfast Wrap
I was surprised to meet Larry and Betty on my run yesterday, walking with their sticks down into the trees on Edgewood. Last winter, they hired me to fetch their mail and water their houseplants while they flew with the geese southward. Mrs. Betty is a gardener who does her best work in springtime, hedging … Continue reading Bunnies & Birds
A True Story from Home I remember Frank as an old man, always kneeling in some corner to measure or drill, always doing it quietly with trembly hands. I remember staring at the nub where I’d heard he’d lost a finger to a chop saw, and wondering if it was still lying in his shop … Continue reading The Man Who Built the Lord’s House
A Story of Christmas Present It’s that time of year when the trees go up in the church foyer, and the Operation Christmas Child shoeboxes get stacked, and I stand in the green fluorescence of Dollar Tree, and everything on the shelves is plastic and off-brand, and I wonder if the kid getting my box … Continue reading Glory in a Box
Ours is an old neighborhood. Old trees. Old houses. Old people, whose one surety in life is the six o’clock news. Wheel of Fortune comes on at seven. Postseason baseball airs after that, and since the Cardinals aren’t in the hunt, folks drift off in their recliners till the grandfather clock gongs 10. Daylight Savings … Continue reading Prime Time
I was out for a walk yesterday, brown leaves hurrying across the street, when I met my neighbor Mrs. Brenda. Before she asked it, I knew her question: "How's your book?" she called over the whir of a leaf blower. She's an author herself, and when I told her I was breaking ground on a … Continue reading Upon A Year Inside the Conservatory
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