I Can’t Not
I come from a family of writers. Preachers who write sermons. Pranksters who crack jokes. Poets who compose verse. Pickers who compose lyrics. Patriarchs…
Read MoreI come from a family of writers. Preachers who write sermons. Pranksters who crack jokes. Poets who compose verse. Pickers who compose lyrics. Patriarchs…
Read MoreGranny Garrard was a very important part of my life until her death on April 12, 1982. After that, the memories of her have…
Read MoreAn insignificant spec, repeatedly unnoticed, In a world where nature is usually considered beauty. Illustrating perseverance and craftsmanship, Floating without wings, Intertwining glistening strands…
Read More“Grandpa…I want to play with you.” This sound drifted up to me from the smiling face of my granddaughter, her deep brown eyes shining…
Read MoreIn the shady yard behind our modest brick home, three blond boys follow their father down furrows of rich soil. They toddle like golden…
Read MoreI come from a foot peddle beneath a whirring sewing machine and the first beneath Dad’s automotive fingernails the slopes of Ski Windham and…
Read MoreI have been a writer since first or second grade – since the day my teacher showed us the basket of books she made…
Read MoreFor me, the writing life consists of invitation, community, and outlet. We will explore each of these facets this month, beginning with “invitation.” As…
Read MoreI would be a person who “used to write” if it weren’t for resources like those I’ve discussed in previous posts. And, as I…
Read MoreToday was a very busy day at my job. It wasn’t stressful; it was just eventful, and while I took my normal lunch time…
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