Winged and rooted things

A sunny January morning calls me outside. I take a ski pole and navigate our icy driveway. There, in my perennial island, a poor Hellebore whimpers for help. I inspect the damage. “Deer,” she says. “I’ll be back,” I promise. The sun’s melted the ice from our graded...

Mrs. Bradley’s field trip

Field trip: a visit to a place (such as a museum) made by students to learn about something. Webster Dictionary Just when I thought life couldn’t be any better than Hobo Pies and S’mores, Mrs. Bradley took my Brownie troop to a ballet. We followed her inside Ford...

Priorities and pancakes

My husband woke with pancakes on his mind this morning. “You thinking of Gram again?” I asked. He grinned like a boy. “She fed us grandkids pancakes with bottles of Log Cabin syrup every summer.” Bessie and Milton Underwood owned and operated the Presque Isle Lodge...

Home alone Christmases

I didn’t know what to do when Christmas Day first found me alone with my husband. As empty nesters, it wasn’t the least humorous like Hollywood’s Home Alone. My mother and mother-in law had modeled ideal parents with a houseful of children and grandchildren on...

Remembering Cousin Ronnie

The incoming call triggered my internal alarm. My Kentucky sister doesn’t typically phone during a workday. I assumed sad news. “Patty, what’s going on?” “Are you busy?” “Just making Quiche Lorraine for company. And you?” “I’m roosterin’ up,” she said. I envisioned...