On My Mother’s Island
This is the island where my mother is still living. There is not a great deal of the “normal” here. We are just a bunch of hangers on. For those … Read More
Culture. Angst. Love
This is the island where my mother is still living. There is not a great deal of the “normal” here. We are just a bunch of hangers on. For those … Read More
I can remember one of the first really scary movies I saw. It was “The Giant Spider Invasion.” That classic 2-star fave came out in 1975. Which means someone in … Read More
This past weekend, I had the chance to return to a place I once considered home: Kansas City. By home, I mean it was the place where I became the … Read More
As I walked from home to the playground today to pick up the kids, it occurred to me that — perhaps — at some point in one’s life it is … Read More
I don’t remember what I did in the summer as a kid. Not specifically. I remember that I played outside with the neighbor kids and my siblings. We rode bikes … Read More
At the beginning of my parenting experience, I said “no” often. The noise and the mess was a lot to handle. Not to mention the plain issue of just keeping … Read More
A friend of mine posted a question of Facebook asking: Those of you who were elementary schoolers in the late 70s and 80s: Could you please share a few books … Read More
I submit to you this broken heart. A year ago, I (unintentionally!) kicked a little snowball down a snowy hill, and I discovered how cold and mean life can be. … Read More
Louis Bonaventure Chanez and Margaret Salome Urban Chanez Agnes Schebler Hiegel and Alois Hiegel — While I was at my parents place for their 50th, I got a little melancholy … Read More
A BIG QUESTION Guest Post by Krista Richards Mann — I love cooking. Starting in grade school, my mother let me make dinner for the family once a week. The … Read More
When I lived in Kansas City, I was single. This meant that I spent a great deal of my energy and mind space being frustrated and unhappy about my “alone”ness. … Read More
At the post office, the hated post office, where lines greet me and awful racks of greeting cards Line walls, ignored. The post office and its Perfume of desperation. The … Read More
I want things handmade. I want a life devoid of BPA-worries. I want the holidays decorated in popcorn strings and toes of knee-high socks filled with sticky penny candy and … Read More
December is the month of dreams, of nostalgia, of memories, expectations, hopes and disappointments. We were all little children once⦠dreaming our dreams of light and mystery, wide awake under … Read More
No matter where we fly, we are never free of memory.