The morning is dark and gray. A silent, shivery mist hovers among the trees, settling onto the ground, bringing back the cold of winter. I pour my first cup of Folgers and ask Nemo if he’d like a cup, but he declines. He will come and sit with me while I write, but he […]
Feb 26, 2019
Storm Warning
By · Leave a Comment
The weather this morning holds no hint of winter’s re-entry; no notice that a cold, frigid storm is in the near future. Some of the maples sport tentative buds and a few bushes hint of green. Squirrels are gathering fluff for their nests and birds are looking at tree branches with an eye to building. […]
Feb 24, 2019
A Wild, Willful, Windy Day
By · Leave a Comment
Yesterday was just that kind of day. March hadn’t arrived yet; didn’t the wind know that? Was it just practicing for a really Big Blow? Whatever the reason, it was a windy day. Sunny, chilly, windy. It was a Baking Carrot Cupcakes and Picking Jonquils kind of day. So, that’s what I did–baked cupcakes, picked […]
Feb 19, 2019
Eeriness, Weirdness, and Invisibility
By · Leave a Comment
This is a strange tale of someone we’ll call Penelope Pennybroke. You may believe it or not, as you choose. Penelope, quiet, gray-haired woman of a certain number of years, was on her daily walk, minding her own business, keeping an eye out. She always did this–kept an eye out. One time she […]
Feb 18, 2019
Frosty Roofs, Warm Hearths
By · Leave a Comment
The sun shines on white, frosty roofs this morning. No matter the color of the shingles, they all look the same–cold! But, under the frigid rooftops, inside the house, I hope there is warmth and love and comfort. Just in case we have forgotten, this is Presidents’ Day, but it isn’t the birthday of […]
Feb 17, 2019
A Pocket Full of Mysteries
By · Leave a Comment
Where do they come from, those words that mystery writers spin into stories? Do we catch them like butterflies netted as they fly through the air? Do we snatch them from conversations of friends or winnow them from long ago memories? And then, with a pocket full of words, how can they be spun into […]
