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“Hell, Stan, there are too many for a list?” Stan shook his head no, and whistled low. Greg oozed frustration. “Were you ever sure about anything?” “ I swear we’re here.” Stan jumped up and dunked on Greg. Steve dunked on both of them, then got serious. “We’ll never get a list like this right,”
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“I know what “Azure” means, why wouldn’t I know what happiness and tranquility mean? Just because you’re my Papa doesn’t mean you’re smart or anything.”
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“You better have the coffee ready before you get me out of bed.”
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The finest pie I’ve ever made screams Christmas.
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He loved nothing more than a roomful of people drinking and smoking and giving him his undivided devotion and attention.
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At least there would be no school.
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Never start a novel with the weather.
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“Don’t tell your mom I let you see a Ouija Board. They’re not toys,”
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In the Midnight Hour
In the midnight hour, when no one else is around or listening, the story I tell myself is that I didn’t fall off the turnip train yesterday. That the voice of Linda Ronstadt still rings true in my heart and head. I’m still the woman I was forty years ago even though I have silver Read more
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Long ago
I’m still not used to the Fourth of July without the indignity of the sumptuous feasts my mother concocted on her birthday. They had everything but bursting fireworks against the black sky. They weren’t necessary for her celebrations. Everyone was too tired for them by dark anyway. The family would have had to replenish its Read more
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Lasagne Night
“Do you remember when we had dinner in that old house in the woods on the farm?” Ruby asked as she took the pan of lasagne out of the oven. Alan smiled. “Yeah, you wore your prom dress and I wore my sport coat. Mom made lasagne for us. We took it to that little Read more
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School’s Out for Summer
Image generated with AI Being home in my forest among my flowers allows me to be me. The old people said “tending violets cures melancholy.” There’s something about digging in dirt to plant my begonias and impatiens that does the same thing. It restores my soul from working all fall and winter. Every morning of Read more
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Goulash
Image generated with AI. “I’m making goulash for dinner tonight. I’m going to use Mom’s recipe too.” said Janice. Mason hoped she remembered the recipe. Sometimes her memory of her Mom’s dishes were sketchy and turned out awful like the soup. He was skeptical of this goulash stuff. It had a weird name to it Read more
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“Hell, Stan, there are too many for a list?” Stan shook his head no, and whistled low. Greg oozed frustration. “Were you ever sure about anything?” “ I swear we’re here.” Stan jumped up and dunked on Greg. Steve dunked on both of them, then got serious. “We’ll never get a list like this right,”
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“I know what “Azure” means, why wouldn’t I know what happiness and tranquility mean? Just because you’re my Papa doesn’t mean you’re smart or anything.”
-
“You better have the coffee ready before you get me out of bed.”
-
The finest pie I’ve ever made screams Christmas.
-
He loved nothing more than a roomful of people drinking and smoking and giving him his undivided devotion and attention.
-
At least there would be no school.
-
Never start a novel with the weather.
-
“Don’t tell your mom I let you see a Ouija Board. They’re not toys,”
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Kinship
The artists couldn’t have been more different. One used a palette knife to sculpt landscapes of heaven. He caught the flickering glint of stars and swirling clouds of gas and light with oily pigments. He imprisoned the light and wonder of Orion, caught his bow in mid-aim. His kin captured the magnificence of the heavens…
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Ceraunophilia (n) loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful
“The lightning webbed and arced across the black sky. Thunder of a thousand sonic booms shook the whole house. It did it again and again and again. “I got it on my camera, look. It’s phenomenal. I bet it goes viral. “What do you think?” asked Sadie. “Look, here it comes again. James Weldon Johnson’s…
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Mommy’s Angel
I begged for a guitar for Christmas. I got down on my knees in supplication to Mom one Saturday morn when the snow was knee deep outside, I remember. That’s all she heard that year. I did every chore she gave me with glee, on the outside at least, three quarters my best instead of…
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Good King Wenceslas
“I love the way the full moon glistens on the snow when it’s deep and crisp and even like this, not a mark on it,” the good king said. It was St. Stephen’s Day, Boxing Day, the patron saint of stonemasons and bricklayers, the first martyr, stoned to death for blasphemy. He was also the…
Devonne Brown 