Reading a memoir reminded this blogger of the power of pen and paper.
Even when one is many years past high school graduation, a class ring is a special thing. Even though I might only wear it to reunion parties, it holds a lot of memories. Terry the Piano Tuner came to my house this week, tuned my piano, listened, knew where to look, and found my class… Continue reading The Piano Tuner and the Missing Ring
Wishing you a happy 4th, with family stories of one grandmother's decorative toy, and the other grandmother's favorite song.
A Review of Patricia Johns' Her Twins' Cowboy Dad... This was a very enjoyable book, especially the twins, Micha and Suzie, just as cute as in the picture on the cover, whose antics will have you laughing every time they're on the page! The girls and their mother, Jane Marshall, have been summoned to the… Continue reading Love that Multiplies!
How does one tell a story about an old, blind, rambunctious dog like Dale? I guess we start at the beginning, at least, the beginning for us. Our "mini-Lab" Maggie was 12 & 1/2, and taking the stairs a little more slowly. Maggie enjoyed time with our recently married daughter's dog Ivy, so we thought… Continue reading A Tale of Dale
Maggie was an unusual variety of rescue dog--a puppy, only eight weeks old! Her mother was one of two black Labrador rescues, adopted by the same family, who had neglected to have both dogs spayed as required. There was a male black Lab in the neighborhood, who was presumed to have jumped the fence, but… Continue reading Maggie’s Story
Memorial Day, a day of remembering, going to parades, waving flags, applying and reapplying sunscreen, listening to speeches and quietly giggling when you notice the person next to you nodding off, maybe going to the pool... My favorite tradition is accompanying Mr. H. as he plays the tuba with Atlanta Concert Band at the National… Continue reading Happy Memorial Day!
Last year we joined a CSA, which stands for Community Supported Agriculture, joining with a bi-weekly plan. Every other week, starting in May, I go pick up a box in the next small town, the boxes gently tucked under an awning at a church to keep them cool. I often go with a neighbor, which… Continue reading Tomorrow I pick up my vegetable box…
Recently I was asked to be an early reader for this book, receiving an advanced copy from Kensingington books in a GoodReads give-away, but these opinions are all my own. On GoodReads, I did a regular book review, but if you're a regular reader, you know I usually tell a personal story here! I thoroughly… Continue reading Freedom, Faith and Community
We always had fig bushes at my parents’ house. Grandmother Irene and Mama both loved them, making more preserves than we could eat or give away. I would say, “Mama, could we please have some grape jelly from the store? Please?”
My friends and I all knew how to pick the best fresh figs for a healthy afternoon snack that didn’t spoil our dinners–we peeled them by pulling on the stem and ate them right by the bush. Mama didn’t know and we didn’t wash our hands! As an adult, I learned to enjoy figs with savory foods, like in a salad or on a cheese board, but Mama kept making and giving away her preserves…she even used them as a fund-raising project when she was “Queen” of her Eastern Star Chapter.
I agree with Sabra about covering your skin when picking them–those prickly leaves do make one itch! Today, I enjoy figs when I can get them…we’re trying to revive the old fig tree we cut back after moving here a few years ago. Hopefully this year, there will be enough figs for us and the birds!
looking through my kitchen window
I notice my fig bush has grown
several feet since last summer
I can no longer pull down the top limbs
to harvest the ripe, brown fruit
when contemplating my figs, I usually think of
Middle Eastern markets, hillsides, and biblical stories
but today, I think of my mother
and her two great fig bushes
she canned fig preserves
delicious on her homemade, buttered biscuits
even the butter was homemade
when we lived on the farm
but the fig bush I thought of today
was the one behind her well house
on the barren place we bought
after selling the farm
when lightning struck and killed her fig bush
she never planted another
to my surprise, she said she was allergic to the bush
and would get figs from friends
now it comes to me
I know what she meant
I’ve learned to suit-up with…
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