What I Miss Most

I have been asked if it was a sacrifice to leave the classroom.  It was and it wasn't. You see, leaving the classroom to work in the library was an easy decision.  I begged a little for it and worked a little for it and couldn't be happier with my choice.  I love the books.  … Continue reading What I Miss Most

The Last Time

Graduation time. A perfect time to reblog this post.. With a few edits 🙂


person wearing black low top sneakers and black jeans Photo by Nicholas Githiri on Pexels.com

When my daughter was about eight, my husband said to me, “I don’t remember the last time she rode on my shoulders.” She was too big now. “I didn’t realize the last time I carried her would be the LASTtime.” There are a lot of things like that.  A lot of “last times” that sneak up on you.

The last time we brushed her teeth for her or helped her take a bath.  Monitoring her closely, making sure she didn’t A) drown and B) Neglect to wash the back of her neck.

The last time we held hands crossing the street or kept one eye on her in a large crowd.

The last time we rushed to school to bring a forgotten lunch or homework.

The last time we helped her zip her coat, tug on mittens or pull a hat down over…

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Sunday Football

It is Sunday, which means a family pancake breakfast, maybe even with bacon, always with orange juice.  After our breakfast off to church.  Sometimes, sometimes we don't bother, there were months and years that we didn't bother, instead, we laze around a bit, perhaps make a half-hearted attempt at the homework we have put off.  … Continue reading Sunday Football


Mist obscured mountains.  Shades of gray.  Pinpoints of treetops, water slate, sky slate.  This is home. A ferry cuts through the water, bright lights in the darkening sky. Trollers home from a long day at sea, headed for the marina, the dark shore across the narrows.  Lights from the docks beckon. It is time now … Continue reading Home


A few years ago a cousin of mine posted a meme of a vocabulary word on Facebook. Hiraeth: A homesickness for a home which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for lost places in your past. I almost didn't read it, but when I did, it … Continue reading Hiraeth


Afternoons with my grandmother were spent sipping tea.  Hot tea, no matter the weather. Tea from delicate, beautiful and oh-so-fragile teacups.  A cube or two of sugar, the lovely sound of metal ag… Source: Teacups