The Morning After… it’s so quiet. A friend noted, in a comment last night, that this might be due to a certain missing heartbeat.... Read More
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… on the ghosting of judgement
One night years ago, the long table filled with the remnants of dessert and wine glasses filled to varying heights, a group of us... Read More
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… on pre-grief, posthumously
I’ve found myself thinking a lot about Granny and Grampa (a.k.a., the Old Yankee Man) lately. Anniversaries often bring such thoughts to the forefront,... Read More
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… on being silly putty
I Want to be Silly Putty Old photographs, From an old box Tucked into the loft Of an old barn How long since I’ve... Read More
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… on a movie with granny
The other morning woke me up early, lured me outside, and easily convinced me it was worth it. I stepped out of bed and... Read More
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… on what is handed down
When Mom died And those who loved her Went back to their everydays When the dishes were washed And put away in the same... Read More
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… on grief, the invitation
I opened the front door slowly After knockings barely heard No one stood there on the porch No one said a word My gaze... Read More
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… on gardening in the shade
That’s a hellebore. They are funky and strangely mysterious and I love them. Here are some more… Very cool. There are oodles of myths... Read More
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… on the temporary puppy
He was… Yeah. Was. Marshal Dillon Dingle was supposed to be a temporary puppy. We were supposed to take him in for a night,... Read More
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… on an awakening
There is something wondrously cool about Wait. Just to be all kinds of honest and authentic, that – up there ^ – is not... Read More
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… on the hat
When the kids were much less tall than they are today, we often read a book by Jan Brett, called The Mitten. It was… well,... Read More
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… on christmas beacons
Oh yes. The day after Thanksgiving was, as it always is, Decorating Day. Decorating Day is a National Holiday for Dingles (no, seriously, it... Read More