Ragdoll Cat (Temporarily)

“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong … Continue reading Ragdoll Cat (Temporarily)

The Great Throwing-Away: Bob’s Grocery

I just packed the egg separator from Bob's Grocery in Fentress, Texas, ca. 1956. Why? Because it's from Bob's Grocery in Fentress, Texas, ca. 1956. Bob--really Rob Waller--was my father's first cousin. They grew up on neighboring farms on the Guadalupe County side of the San Marcos River. Nell, Rob's wife and partner in the … Continue reading The Great Throwing-Away: Bob’s Grocery

The Great Throwing-Away: Quilts

Today's Great Throwing-Away was more of a Great Packing-Away, but I'm stopping for a brief post. Anything to take me away from the task at hand. Like my mother's cookbook and her high school diploma, three quilts will stay with me. The first is a baby blanket my mother's mother, Mary Veazey Barrow, made for … Continue reading The Great Throwing-Away: Quilts

The Great Throwing-Away: Tomato Soup Cake

The Great Throwing-Away continues to unearth items I refuse to throw away. Today it's The Household Searchlight Recipe Book my mother acquired, according to the inside cover, in 1940. It's had a hard life. I referred to page 77 repeatedly during my Divinity Phase, when I was eleven. Every rainy weekend—and there were more of … Continue reading The Great Throwing-Away: Tomato Soup Cake

Score: Fifteen – Love

In less than an hour, David and I will have been married fifteen years and nine hours. Or slightly less; the wedding began at 2:00 p.m., but with all the singing and marching and reading and plighting, it was probably 2:30 before the minister told us we could leave. To me, it seems like we've … Continue reading Score: Fifteen – Love

S Is for a Sin & a Shame: #atozchallenge

  LONG before I wrote stories, I listened for stories. Listening for them is something more acute than listening to them. I suppose it's an early form of participation in what goes on. Listening children know stories are there. When their elders sit and begin, children are just waiting and hoping for one to come … Continue reading S Is for a Sin & a Shame: #atozchallenge

D Is for Stinky, Ruffy, and a Dollop of Muggs*: #atozchallenge

Probably no one man should have as many dogs in his life as I have had, but there was more pleasure than distress in them for me except in the case of an Airedale named Muggs. He gave me more trouble than all the other fifty-four or -five put together, although my moment of keenest … Continue reading D Is for Stinky, Ruffy, and a Dollop of Muggs*: #atozchallenge

Memories of July 19: Ros’nears

On June 19th, I wrote about the official Juneteenth holiday. Today I'm sharing a memory that surfaces every year when June 19 comes around. In my corner of the world, Juneteenth marks the time corn is ripe and ready to eat.  Although most people prefer sweet corn, my family ate field corn--roasting ears, commonly pronounced … Continue reading Memories of July 19: Ros’nears

#AtoZChallenge Day C: Contrariwise

I believe I've fallen behind. My Day B (April 2) post went online about five minutes before Day C started in my time zone. Now, less than four hours before Day D begins, I'm just starting on Day C. Technically, I'm okay--observing the letter of the law (take some time to chuckle over that before … Continue reading #AtoZChallenge Day C: Contrariwise

Sycamore

By this time tomorrow, the sycamore tree in my front yard will be gone. Sycamores need a lot of water, and over the past few years, Texas, like the rest of the Southwest, has suffered a severe drought. The tree was one of its casualties. So tomorrow it has to go. I'll be there when it … Continue reading Sycamore

Petting Zoos, Methodists, and Misbehavior

The petting zoo has come to BookPeople! Consequently, the average age in the coffee shop--aka my office--is considerably lower than usual. I estimate it at approximately two. Normally I filter out noise and activity to concentrate on writing. The ability to hyperfocus is a gift. Today, however, what's going on around me is more interesting than … Continue reading Petting Zoos, Methodists, and Misbehavior

The House

Only Day 2, and I'm already tempted to drop out of Writing 101. Yesterday I had all day. I started early, ignored the instructions and wrote what and how I wanted, and took my time doing it. Fine. Today I had both morning and afternoon meetings, and now I'm as tired as I was when … Continue reading The House

Billie

My father would have been ninety-nine years old today. In September, he'll have been gone for thirty-one years. It's easier to imagine him as the child in this picture than to imagine him at ninety-nine. Of two things, however, I'm certain: If here were here today, his blue eyes would still be twinkling, and  he … Continue reading Billie

Crystal

For my mother born in Martindale, Texas, 1917 In all her seventy-five years, she never grew old. * The courage that my mother had Went with her, and is with her still: Rock from New England quarried; Now granite in a granite hill. The golden brooch my mother wore She left behind for me to wear; I have no thing … Continue reading Crystal

Billie

My father would have been ninety-eight years old today. In September, he'll have been gone for thirty years. It's easier to imagine him as the child in this picture than to imagine him at ninety-eight. Of two things, however, I'm certain: If here were here today, his blue eyes would still be twinkling, and  he … Continue reading Billie