The Balsa Wood Plane, The Big Tree and Me
“I’ll give you twenty-five cents but if you want fifty cents, you’ll need to find a way to earn it.” This was my dad’s reply to my request for money to purchase a balsawood plane with a rubber band when I was eight years old. The twirling of the propeller that twisted...
When Story Becomes A Magic Carpet Ride
The ability to craft a good story was seen as a strength growing up as the eldest of my parent’s four children. Telling a good story to keep the younger three siblings entertained, so mom could get something done, was the job of the firstborn daughter. Stories of...
The Night We Uprooted Fear
“I’m too sick to drive.” She cried. “I don’t care if you have to drive with a garbage can beside you! “ I snapped at her. If I could have grabbed her through the phone and forced my daughter, Megan, into the car I would have. “ You get your cat, and a...
Songbird In The Night
From somewhere deep in the pines a songbird sings. As the stars end their evening song, the bird begins her’s, continuing the perpetual praise. Up and down the scale her voice serenades in the dark, singing promises of morning light. Black as ink are the...
More Than A Chick-Stock Life
She sat on the stool at my kitchen island and helped me make chicken chowder while sipping on sweet iced tea. I gave her an old butcher-block cutting board, a bunch of carrots and my favorite knife. The iron skillet sizzles with onions, garlic and celery as the...
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