“If they never stain, and your cans don’t have sharp edges, how do they wear out?” Naïve smile, unfeigned readiness to accept all the wonders of the world.
Today my friendships feel rich, though sometimes spread too thin. But these are the stories I think of when I hear yours.
He was my first baby – now thirteen months old. His hair was brown, his eyes were striking, his grin was quick. I thought he was perfect.
If you thought that story was odd, here’s another even less explicable. Confession: Once upon a time, I noticed a beautiful plant in a loosely monitored location. It may or may not have been the windowsill of my grandpa’s nursing home. Okay, it was. I made sure the plant was hearty enough to withstand a little […]
I think of this story around this time of year, when our bushes hang heavy with berries. Once upon a time when I was a little girl, we went to stay in the home of some friends in Virginia. When we arrived, our hosts showed us around and made us comfortable, in true Valley style. […]
Some time ago I complained heartily about the fault lines running thickly through the story of Rumpelstiltskin. Remember? “If anyone can hand me a better version that actually makes sense of the key elements in the story, be it a paragraph or a page, I will publish it here. Put on your thinking cap; ask […]
We had a lot of drama this summer. You wouldn’t think it, since the walls are still standing and the sunlight is slanting gently down on the goats’ pen. But we did, in our small way. Once in our yard we found an unfortunate starling—as Dickens would say, dead as a doornail. We trust he […]