I received an email from my brother with the subject line of “Overture.” It was written entirely in verse, and I could not resist making it today’s blog. I’d like to say this writing ability runs in our family, but after reading “Overture” I believe my brother has all the talent and I have just … More Overture: a blog from my brother regarding elderberries.
Spoiler alert: The Spirit of Qatar wins. I’m not a reporter. I’m a writer who allows herself to focus on a few small things and tell you my observations, my interactions, my thoughts. So it was with the 2012 Lucas Oil Madison Regatta. Except for a few lucky gentleman’s bets on my favorite, Miss Madison, … More Marla dreams of stealing a hydroplane. Madison Regatta, Part 3 of 3.
If you prefer your Marla in a box of sunshine, this post is not for you. Close the window and return tomorrow. There will be a new rainbow, or fluffy kittens and plenty of sunshine when you come back, and our relationship will be none the worse for it. But today I’m lonely. I’m sad. … More Heritage Trail Day 2: Grief and Loneliness…and one more wipeout.
This was my husband’s reply, trailing off in a fit of laughter, after I told him of my morning encounter. I went through the list of characters I’ve met in the last few days of watching the Madison-Milton Bridge Project on the Ohio River. I try my best to give a character sketch and, more … More “It’s a good thing you’re already married…”
Happy Summer Solstice! I’ve been celebrating summer for a few days already by picking my ripe black raspberries and making jam. I wanted to share a delicious mix with you, as well as a taste of what I did last night. I suppose the title of this blog should be Summer Solstice, Poetry, Jam…and Clowns, … More Summer Solstice Poetry Jam…and Clowns
I was sixteen when my dad had his final, fatal heart attack. I was spending my summer with him at his home in Las Vegas. It was a strange summer, full of the awful and the awfully humorous as Dad tried to teach me how to drive his stick-shift VW bus in the middle of … More To my Late Father on his 70th Birthday: Tiny Colossus; Conquering Giant
My friend Dottie died. It happened the day I was mailing her a postcard from Viet Nam. I didn’t find out about her death until a couple days ago, when an email bounced back. I immediately sent another, thinking maybe a spam filter didn’t like my links. It also returned “Undeliverable.” I hoped maybe she … More Remembering Dottie Grossman (1937-2012)
I will probably be disgusted with myself for this post longer than you can hate me for typing it, for thinking it, for sharing it. But these murders so close to where we grew up have left us all sick, or confused, or angry, or hateful, vengeful, feeling everything and nothing, and knotted at each … More Murder and Compassion. Am I rising above, or failing the victims?
Ashes of my late mother and father rest in a sealed locket around my neck. Each of their children and grandchildren has a locket. Some don’t wear it. Others, like me, wear it only when traveling to places my mom or dad never went. Mine is a butterfly, now a little worn and scuffed. It … More Traveling with Mom and Dad in Viet Nam
Do any of you have strange dreams when you’re sick? I’m battling the latest installment of pass-the-flu, our yearly, sometimes semi-annual tradition here in the wintry northeast. When I’m sick, my dreams, already the product of a somewhat unconventional mind, get even more strange. Take, for example, last night’s dream about McSweeney’s. Well, it wasn’t … More Unconscious McSweeneying
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