The Undertaker’s Rose My new friend wears a great expression Not sadness, anger, nor depression You’d have to offer your concession That ‘happy’ is her first impression She cares... Read More
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… on her pies and a golden tassel
Her pies. This conversation started out Friday night with Number One Son, Sam calling from New Orleans to let me know that he was feeling as if he was... Read More
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… a text from sam
I admit to being late to Facebook, but I was early to texting. I love it for the reason that, with busy kids, nieces, nephews (and other under 25... Read More
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… a poem on a weathered tree, for weathered humans
Weathered I stopped today beside the old tree, its branches peppered with fall’s last leaves. The ground beneath a carpet of gold, each fallen leaf a story untold. I... Read More
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… on loving football and being feminist peewee pervert
My nearly perfect husband had made me a roaring fire in the fireplace. Chicken corn chowdah (a Dingle Family fall staple) was on the stove. Gabe (one day into... Read More
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… on spousal literature and eye-rolling and the wizard of oz
This morning my nearly perfect – but wishing he identified more with murderous, sociopathic tendencies – husband was making my coffee. He was a little heavy on the cream... Read More
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… a poem because I walked into a falling leaf
Today I walked through a breeze of leaves swirling and whirling and dancing with trees, who bustled and leaned and reached and grasped, trying hard to catch them and... Read More
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… on freakin’ suicidal varmints
I’m not sure what’s going on. For the past week, every time I get in the car, my palms start to sweat. By the time I shift from ‘R’... Read More
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… on grampa’s many jobs and the ass who delivers our mail
Before he was a grandfather and before he was a Dad, Grampa had many jobs. A child of the Depression, he has told stories of earning nickels and dimes... Read More
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… on slippery slopes, prejudicial behavior, and being mayor
Oh hey. Listen, I grabbed a coffee on the way, don’t worry about me. I need to talk to you about something. Sigh. I just never thought it would... Read More
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… on a poem for fall with a little boston and maine tossed in
The trees are sayin’ “Let’s reti-yah” Their leaves are fallin’ from the sky, yah I’m lookin’ out the window, a yah Enjoyin’ my first kitchen fi-yah. Fred is whinin’,... Read More
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… on dead trees, post puppy depression, and a vacation
Today is tree-taker-downing day at the Dingle house and it’s just – because I want another ‘d’ word – dandy. Along the side of our house are a series... Read More