Tag: Nazarene
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All the Apple Pies
Even a brand new S.O.S. pad can have trouble scrubbing off certain greebage (a wonderful word coined by my beloved) from oven racks. The baked-on crud doesn’t want to give up. I am woman though. Hear me roar. In classic early morning style, as I bent over the kitchen sink at 4:45 a.m. doing chores…
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Trees of Life
To plant a tree is to begin a memory. I’m a big believer in the power of growing plants along with growing the family. A measure of a kid or two or three or four can be marked right along with the rings of a tree I’ve left here and there across our pathway. And…
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Turbulence, T-Shirt Tags, and Trains
International air travel. An acquired taste. The few places I’ve ventured to out of my home country can be counted on one hand — at least I think they can. Let’s see. England, Scotland, France, Monaco, Italy, Ukraine, and Ecuador. Oh, wait. Mexico and Canada. And I did not fly to those two. And clearly…
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Donkey Kong New Year
Back when social media was more fun and frolic than politics and pandemic, there were a few words written by a younger me (subtract 10 from what you think I am now) on straight-up Facebook, not buried in a blog. I’ll put them here just for fun but you’re excused to skip over and go…
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This Is Now
Around the time that first memories were becoming solid and not just fleeting images of grandmas and old houses and smells and scenes, I can remember a Thanksgiving in Houston, Texas at my Great Uncle Clyde and Aunt Juanita’s house. We’d traveled there from Colorado and when I crawled into my lovingly prepared cot at…
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What Makes Them Tropical?
Several years ago, before COVID temporarily wrecked summer camp for kids, I was the Snack Shack Lady at junior camp in the woods of western Oregon. In case you’ve never been in contention for that job, it is a highly coveted position, especially if your husband is the camp R.N. and you get to sleep…
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A Chickahominy Dream Come True
Dear boys and girls, Maybe you recall the very first post on this blog was about Chickahominy Reservoir in eastern Oregon and my weird unfulfilled curiosity about that place. You’ve probably been wondering if that long-standing dream was ever realized. Well, wonder no more. Here’s Bob representing our mutual enthusiasm on the day we finally…
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One Thread
Written in black sharpie on the back inside cover of my 8th grade yearbook is this: I have tears in my ears from lying on my back in my bed while I cry over you. Now if those words are not poetry I do not know what is. And ohhh, I loved the boy who…
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A Twist — Not a Knot
Confession time. Since the stay-at-home order I’ve been cross stitching like a mad man. I’m not sure exactly how many mad men actually cross stitch, but you get the idea. It’s a little weird. I’ve read about so many folks taking care of their families in such admirable, practical ways — canning, baking, sewing, hunting,…
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Real Estate Bird
Right in the middle of writing a different blog post (a pretty dreary and potentially depressing one) I thought, “Hey, let’s lighten things up a bit.” We’ll start with the basics. Parakeets can talk. And fly. Twelve-year old girls aren’t always smart. But they mean well. The summer of 1974 was monumental. We, our giant…
