What is your legacy? What did you inherit? What was handed down to you from someone in your past? A hefty bank account? A home? A prized possession? Or, was it something more intangible and even more precious? I like watching The Antiques Roadshow. It’s always heart-warming when an item is brought to the show […]
Sep 17, 2016
Ramblin’ Rose
By · Leave a Comment
Two More Days Until the Launch of Grave Heritage! I am pleased to announce this morning, that I am a guest on Janet K. Brown’s blog site. I hope you’ll drop in for a visit. Thanks, Janet, for the opportunity to guest on your blog. Yesterday was a little of this and a bit of […]
Sep 15, 2016
Though Storm Clouds Gathered, So Did We
By · Leave a Comment
When five women are talking, writing, reading, and giggling, it’s no wonder they don’t notice the afternoon has grown dark and storm clouds are gathering. However, rain held off until the Cozy Critters began climbing into their cars. Then, it rained! Poured! Deluged! (I don’t think there is such a word but that’s what it did.) Carolyn came back […]
Feb 9, 2016
Just Wondering Why
By · 4 Comments
How could a father just walk away from his child and abdicate his role as mentor and protector? Was Jasper’s habit of roaming the woods a result of searching for something to fill the void Walter left? — Darcy Campbell in Grave Heritage. Sometimes Darcy waxes philosophical but then, so does Flora. In this instance, […]
Oct 7, 2014
Does It Have to End?
By · Leave a Comment
The following guest blog is by my sister-in-law, Linda Day. Reading wasn’t always an enjoyable pastime. Being a tomboy and growing up in a rural area, more interesting adventures were found outside–riding bikes, wading in the creek, daydreaming under a shade tree, or trying to ride on of the calves kept in a corral. As […]
Oct 31, 2013
Cozy Critters Critique
By · Leave a Comment
Rain fell softly on leaves beginning to turn orange and gold. The day reminded me of a line from an old poem, “I like the fall, the mist and all.” It was the perfect day for a Cozy Critique. Seven of us sat around Mom’s hundred-year old table, drinking tea or coffee, munching on fudge […]
