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The Advent of Wisdom

The key sits loosely in its lock, unturned, unnecessary.  In a neighborhood where children drift from one house to the next with the freedom of wind-tossed leaves and women freely borrow milk or sugar...

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A Blogosphere Blessing

With the corn half-grown and the rising heat of summer melting and bubbling the tarred-road boundaries of my world, our great migration began. From a secure and well-loved home eight blocks east and...

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The Corn Whisperer

In the depths of interminable winter, there was no sound. No words schussed across the silence, no song delighted the heart. No voice, mysterious and enthralling, beckoned willing and wary alike into...

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The Pleasures of Pelecanus Poeticus

Whether Eleanor Johnson had the pleasure of meeting a pelican during the course of her lifetime, I can’t say. What I know is that, had a pelican plummeted into our 5th grade classroom and perched atop...

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A Taste of Americana

  When it comes to American icons, I’m a traditionalist.  I love the Statue of Liberty, the Corn Palace, bluegrass and blue jeans.  And yes, I’m fond of Norman Rockwell’s illustrations, particularly...

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The Runaways

No, that isn’t me. And no, that isn’t my pet elephant. On the other hand, it could have been me and it could have been my elephant, or so I imagined as a toddler when a serious infatuation with Dumbo...

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Autumn Trilogy III – A Season of Unleaving

Colleen was our hand-waver, the slightly obnoxious one who bounced in her seat, caught up in the throes of enthusiasm. “Me! Me, Miss Hudepohl. Call on me!” On the other side of the room, shy Valerie...

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Tree Houses, Books, and the Joys of Reflection

To my parents’ chagrin, I was a climber. Long before I walked across a room, I was climbing stairs.  I clambered over picket fences as easily as those woven from wire. After I scaled Mt. Refrigerator,...

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Appreciating Small(s)

Victorian Tussie-Mussie, or Bouquet Holder Some of the best words in the world are fading away. Unless you’re lapidicolous (given to living under a rock), you know language is labile (unstable and...

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The Great Graham Cracker Miracle

First Methodist Church, Newton, Iowa What John and Charles Wesley would have thought of my youthful Methodism, I can’t say. To be frank, I’m not certain I knew during childhood that John Wesley had a...

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Wisdom: Gift-Wrapped and Waiting

The key sits loosely in its lock, unturned, unnecessary. In a neighborhood where children drift from one house to the next as freely as wind-tossed leaves, and women freely borrow milk or sugar from...

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Auntie T and Anti-T ~ Part I

Julia Child and friends The familiar voice — an absurd, bird-like trill of enthusiasm — pulled me toward the living room. Irrationally hoping that the doyenne of dough had raised herself from the dead...

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Followed by a Star

Perhaps she noticed my absence. More likely, she felt a draft from the partly-opened door and came out to investigate. Whatever drew my grandmother onto the porch that cold Christmas night, she...

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Learning to “Cowgirl Up”

Ready to Ride If that’s a “YeeeeeHaw!” echoing down the corridors of your Fortune 500 company, or the distinctive click of boot heels tapping across polished granite toward the exit, there’s no...

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Unwriting The Unwritten Rules

With a set of jacks, a hopscotch marker, and a jump rope in hand, entire afternoons could pass before anyone thought to say, “I’m bored.” While we envied the skill of the Double-Dutching older girls,...

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Santa, Virginia, and Me

Santa Comes to Visit Me  ~ Christmas Eve, c. 1952 From the time I was old enough to recognize him, until well past the time most children would have been done with such things, Santa visited our house...

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The Poets’ Birds: Robins

Proust had his madeleines. I have my robins. The murmuring of robins evokes for me a quieter, more gracious world: childhood summers filled with the soft, shallow breathing of curtains at the window;...

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Laundry Days

My maternal grandmother, c.1920 Every era defines its necessities differently. For my grandmother, a clothesline was as much a necessity as her twin aluminum wash tubs and the assortment of scrub...

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A Season to Celebrate Waiting

The key sits loosely in its lock: unturned, unnecessary. In a neighborhood where children drift from one house to the next as freely as wind-tossed leaves and women freely borrow milk or sugar from...

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Watching a Christmas Star

Daystar Like so many others, I sought out the Great Conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter in last night’s evening twilight. Less than a degree apart, their shining presence brought to mind a favorite...

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