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...
View ArticleA 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...
View ArticleThe 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...
View ArticleThe 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...
View ArticleA 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...
View ArticleThe 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...
View ArticleAutumn 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...
View ArticleTree 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,...
View ArticleAppreciating 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...
View ArticleThe 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...
View ArticleWisdom: 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...
View ArticleAuntie 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...
View ArticleFollowed 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...
View ArticleLearning 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...
View ArticleUnwriting 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,...
View ArticleSanta, 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...
View ArticleThe 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;...
View ArticleLaundry 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...
View ArticleA 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...
View ArticleWatching 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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