It’s the art of seeking good that is the art of seeking God for others. But without grace the search stifles. Grace is the stickler here. Admittedly,… Read more “Chiaroscuro – Thoughts on the Darkest Day of the Year”
Category: Memoir
Brian Wilson’s Songs Of My Life
“Are you going to the prom?” a high school friend asked me on a warm May afternoon in 1966. In the background, Brian Wilson’s perfect falsetto crooned,… Read more “Brian Wilson’s Songs Of My Life”
An Anniversary Card To Spouse
Serendipity introduced me to my first husband at age 17. A week after our meeting he promised that we would marry some day. I laughed out loud. … Read more “An Anniversary Card To Spouse”
429 Anti-Inflammatory Flames of Good
This floodgate of what I now call “sparks of light from the prism” amaze me. It is everywhere. I find good deeds in my newspaper’s letters to the editor, on Facebook, in books I’m given, and from random discoveries. A heightened awareness of good seems to foster more good. It also spins my Irish temper into an Irish toast. What would once have given me cause to jump all over some nincompoop now coerce me into smiles and humor.
An Ugly Box With A Beautiful Gift
Sparkling ribbons and paper swathed the holiday season with excitement, expectation and surprise. Tenderly, I removed each ribbon so that it could be reused–a sentimental and frugal habit.… Read more “An Ugly Box With A Beautiful Gift”
Top Chef Contestant Bucks Up–‘Cuz Mama Said
In other words, buck up. Deal with it. Take responsibility. I couldn’t do everything. Skid marks cut and scarred my own learning curve. It sounds hard-lined, but as mother, father, earner and guide, the options ranged between zero and nothing.
I Kept The Positive Door Opened And What A Result!
Once again, it proved to me that during these times of challenge and change, forward movement fueled by positive words and vision naturally shuns opposing wills draped in negativity and self-service.
Ant Conga Line Betrays My Obsession
I’ve obsessed so much that I’ve been off the blogosphere, and I just learned, off the tidysphere.
I woke up this morning to battalions of tiny black ants marching…
The yin and yang of writing
And that, perhaps, is the purpose of memoirs. Really, who gives three flying pigs about my life? Much more interesting tales have and will be told. But at the same time, the writer in me wishes to connect with her readers and render that commonality we share. You know, ring a bell, strike a chord, hit a nerve.
The Muse Pallet 