summer is done

It's time to move on. I could ramble on about summer vacation memories for a long time, but I'd rather not.  Don't want to be that online version of the friend who drags out their slides and shows you a million pictures every time you come for a visit. So here are a few last …

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the familiar place i’d never been…

Even though I studied geography in school like any other kid, and even though I have a quilted map of the United States of America hanging on the wall above my sewing machine (doesn't everyone?)... I always thought of Indiana as a way, way, way, north state. It felt odd to leave Kentucky (to me, …

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my favorite day

We spent eleven full days visiting our son and his family in North Carolina.  Any one of those days could easily be considered a favorite.  We're not hard to please... just sitting around drinking coffee qualifies.  Did the occasional afternoon nap qualify?  Yes.  Yes it did. Fortunately we share a fondness for haunting antique shops, …

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our yes and our no

I have said "no" when it was clearly the right thing.  I've also said "yes" to what should have been a clear "no" believing I could make it work anyway...with varying results. I've said "yes" when it was clearly the right thing.  I've also said "no" to what should have been a clear "yes" believing …

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Walter

When I make myself sit still long enough, I love to watch the wind in the tree tops.  It's peaceful and calming. There are people in life like that, like wind in tree tops. Walter was one. Thinking about him now, I'm a little embarrassed that I didn't know more facts of his life, like …

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the case for sensible shoes… and freedom

My mother is struggling to find comfortable shoes.  Therefore, I am struggling to help her find comfortable shoes.  Sore feet do not make for happy people.  And we need to find some happy around here! She finds shoes in catalogs.  I order them online.  We go shopping once a week and come home with more.  Sometimes …

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loving grown-up sons

Awhile back I wrote of the ease and sweet memories of loving little sons.  Loving grown-up sons is more complicated.  Maybe not so much the loving as the letting go. Their adult lives have been shaped by experiences I have not lived and do not understand.  They have wives and children, careers, friends and activities …

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