It’s pumpkin-carving time! But not everyone is adept with a carving knife … or scythe. (There are photos online with people using power tools …) Mom learned the hard way that unfinished business is not acceptable when it comes to Jack O’Lanterns: Unfinished Business I’m going to write this with a brushthe outraged pumpkin on the pagewith one eye only and half a moutha loaf by his sidewith the knife engaged Finish me up he crookedly criesan ample nose and…
Our siblings and cousins are checking in this afternoon, asking each other how the blizzard is treating them. Here in southern Indiana, we did not have snow in the forecast. Yet, yesterday and today, a few flakes managed to blow around. Very few. Connecticut and New York are getting hit hard, with heavy snow and high winds. True to form, Harry’s wife, Linda, good-naturedly grumbled about only getting a few inches in Maine. This doesn’t exactly meet the “historic proportions”…
Decades ago – before we were even engaged – I told Farmer Gary if I ever wrote a memoir, the title would be Kowzerout! We’d been dating for a few months, so Gary invited me to the farm for Sunday dinner. It felt like something out of a Laura Ingalls Wilder story, as his mom, Rita, put on a nice spread. After we finished dinner, Rita shooed us into the living room while she washed the dishes. (She refused my…
I was really hoping to find out “turnabout is fair play” was coined by William Shakespeare. Alas, its earliest application may be lost to history, but Abraham Lincoln was an early user of the phrase, so we’ll keep it in play with today’s story. As you may recall, my father‘s entire life of home ownership was tortured by squirrels (see Nuts to you! from 2019). He and Mom loved to feed the birds in their many backyards, from Massachusetts to…
As 2025 ends, the books of December are a mix of fable and fact. The first – a special treat – was read to me entirely by grandson Cam. He used a variety of excellent character voices, which never failed to delight me. He’s shares his thoughts in Book 1, below. Book 1: The BFG by Roald Dahl The BFG by Roald Dahl, in my opinion, is a great book to read. The story has Sophie, the main protagonist, and…
Quite an array of topics this month. And a guest blogger: Grandson Cam writes his thoughts about The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, which he read aloud to me this summer, complete with an entertainingly dramatic voice for each character. Book 1: The Fire of Liberty This may well have been my favorite book this month. Esmond Wright compiled letters and other writings primarily from 1775 and 1776 to let the soldiers and townspersons tell the story of America’s Revolutionary War….
“Oh Mom, he looks like you! Your great-grandson has your smile.” I couldn’t wait to tell Mom that baby Cameron had the same sweet smile as the one in her baby picture. I knew that portrait well. It hung in her parents’ living room for decades. It now hung in Mom and Dad’s bedroom. Today, I came across this poem Mom wrote in 1996. She was just a year younger than I am now. ‘The Good Child’ She is the…
Today is April 1. Apparently there was a bit of snowfall on this day 22 years ago outside Mom’s window in Madison, Connecticut: One Flake Falling With one flake fallingthe snow begets a garden for the moon So April One once greenis slowly overlaid with whitethe pussy willows pausethe school bus hurries children home Some forty years ago I wroteof such a prank on such a dayI hear the same sky laughter nowand spot the sunshy preening for her bow…
“Cam – come here! You’ve got to see this!” Our grandson was here for an overnight and his Papaw couldn’t wait to show him the traffic jam on our road. First I must share that Farmer Gary is fascinated by the concept of gridlock. The idea that traffic could come to a complete halt because the network of roads was full absolutely blows that country boy’s mind. So when the few cars on our rural road slowed down to a…
Been thinking a lot about my ancestors this week. We are, after all, a nation of immigrants. Three generations ago, the elders were born in Ireland and Canada. Mom wrote this poem in 1972, presumably after seeing a tragic story in the news about a man without a home found frozen in the snow. The Immigrant He looked an immigrant, forever homelessin his makeshift clothes, dead in the snow for days before the photograph was taken.His life had passed to…