I have a short bookshelf where I put my “small” books. I’ve gathered quite a number of these gems and most are ones I will read again, and again. They are delightful, moving,
I’m sitting in the garden. It’s Saturday morning. I made it halfway out to my office, which is in my garage, out back. I’m weeping. I’m weeping because my heart is spilling over.
My mom celebrates her 88th birthday this coming week. No, she is not a vibrant can’t-believe-she’s-88 kinda gal. She has advanced dementia and cannot communicate with words any more. But, her eyes light
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away; Lengthen night and shorten day; Every leaf speaks bliss to me Fluttering from the autumn tree. ….. – Emily Bronte I’ve always loved this poem. Particularly the
I revel in the earlier daylight, in spring, in the hint of warmth in the air. Now that I’m able to wake up around sunrise, instead of crawling out of bed in the