Welcome!
Lashley Lane, or parts of it, has been a pen name of mine over the years. I treasured my life on that little street. I was safe and cherished and nurtured, imprinted with good memories. We are way Beyond that now but the influence of those early years is embedded deeply.
I’ll be remembering real life and musing about this and that from the past, present, and future. I remain fiercely loyal to the ideal of family and friends being redeemable just as you and I are redeemable, so you’ll just have to trust me with occasional details as I honor privacy. Above all, please realize my Christian point of view. I only hope it will be obvious.
Be sure to click on the navigation bar to find your way around. Happy reading!
LATEST POSTS
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Hidden Pictures
On a strangely quiet Monday I took a photo of where I sat. It’s my desk in my “office.” It’s not really just an office. And it’s not really just mine. We’ll call it multifunctional. Jointly owned. In here I read, write, research, organize, study, pray, ponder, water plants, stitch, search the file cabinet for…
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Pen Pal Marty
When color TV came to our basement in the late 60s, it brought with it the bloody reality of the nightly news of Vietnam. The war had been safely gray up to that point. In 1968 I was just seven and in 2nd grade but “Hanoi” and “Saigon” were familiar words to me, though without…
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The End of Coco’s Tail
It begins long before the tale of Coco’s tail, way before my boyfriend introduced me to his own actual family. We start here. On 1st Street in Nampa, Idaho. In this old house. Once upon a time there was a skinny college boy who needed a place to stay during the summer. The boy had…
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Dominick and the Duck
Far far away, many many years ago in a Kindergarten classroom on the last day of school, five-year old Dominick gave me a little clay duck. Well, I’ve always called it a duck but truthfully its identity is a bit vague. You decide. To reveal the immediate thought that ran through my head might paint…
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A Whittled Goodbye
There were a lot of words on this page just a few minutes ago. It felt a little silly when all I really want to say is, “thank you.” So I whittled a tree down to a toothpick. Writing an occasional word to you has been a unique journey for me, a steep learning curve…
Beyond Lashley Lane 