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Several days ago I had the privilege of stumbling upon a nest of baby cottontails. Although having fur, the ears were short and they were blind.
Leaving them be, only checking their progress occasionally, we verified that the mother was feeding them during the night by leaving twig patterns on the nest. Over the days, she seemed to leave the yard later and later in the morning until one day she did not leave at all. . . .
After dropping off my husband Andrew at his work headquarters, I decided to drive the rental car to Central Park and check out the Japanese Garden. This was our first trip to San Mateo, California so I wanted to explore and had the luxury to do so on my husband's work trip. I felt grateful for such an experience. . . .
Things you don't want to see while driving at 100 kilometres per hour down a major highway in Tasmania: a humongous Huntsman spider running around the dashboard of your car.
I've been going to the Kruger Park for as long as I can remember (my mom still has some of my sightings lists in my round, baby handwriting and superbly creative spelling) but it's only recently that I've discovered its best kept secret.
This story expresses how I learned and taught about the cultures, traditions, music and religions of people from around the world. Through experiencing an unplanned event I made new friendships and came to realize that through modern technology, the world in which we live is truly a small world! . . .
My apprenticeship in cabinet making had included a fair few hours of learning the finishing side of the trade. Using and learning about stains, grain filler, linseed oil, shellac, and spraying lacquer were all part of my work week.
After working in a small country workshop for several years, I landed a position in a larger shop in Cambridge, not as a cabinetmaker as I had hoped, but as a finisher of the work of the other, more experienced, men in the shop. . . .
Although I seldom returned to the States in those days, a combination of events – a break from work and an anxious heart – found me in the Seattle airport in the late summer of 1973, passing through on my way east. Walking around the terminal between flights, taking in my first sight of America after a long spell away, filling my mind with impressions, thinking of anything but the reason that brought me back, I saw an old Korean woman standing in the middle of it all, perhaps lost and clearly distracted by the crowds hurrying past. . . .
In the 1950s farmer Grampa Albert in Zululand bought a Bull to be with his cows.
That Bull terrorized us children when we walked miles everyday across parts of five farms, on our way to school. All of us walked barefoot. All five farms were in our family. When we complained to family adults we were told to not take the shortcuts across the farms. . . .
You know how you feel when you receive an unexpected, sincere and from-the-heart compliment? And how the memory of it trickles down from your brain to create a warm place in your stomach any time you recall it? I received the first compliment of my life when I was eleven, and it was one of those. . . .
I've had many cats throughout my life and each one brought something special into our shared worlds. In many instances, they made my life better – or if not always better, do-able. . . .
"All set? Everything packed?" My husband Lee was always worried about being on time.
An Observation On Baby RabbitsLeaving The NestKelly Wionzek (c) Copyright 2024 by Kelly Wionzek  |
 Photo of baby cottontail courtesy of Wikimedia Commons. |
Several days ago I had the privilege of stumbling upon a nest of baby cottontails. Although having fur, the ears were short and they were blind.
Leaving them be, only checking their progress occasionally, we verified that the mother was feeding them during the night by leaving twig patterns on the nest. Over the days, she seemed to leave the yard later and later in the morning until one day she did not leave at all. . . .
Letter To Vanessa
Sarah Byron (c) Copyright 2025 byValerie Byron  |
|
My
late mother, Sarah Byron, was born in the East End of London in
1911. Her stories and memoirs are colorful and richly
embroidered with detail that I find amazing that she recalled so late
in life. Below is a "letter" - but more of a memoir -
that she sent to my 13 year old daughter, Vanessa, in 1985. . . .
| When
The Gods Are Paying Attention Bheka Pierce (c) Copyright 2025 by Bheka Pierce |
 Image by beauty_of_nature from Pixabay |
Did
the driver of
the oncoming SUV, an elderly man whose forehead barely cleared the
steering wheel, see the little girl in her yellow dress and matching
hair ribbons? He was coming at speed, perhaps hoping to beat the
light a block beyond.
It was only by chance that I was here on the sidewalk in Copenhagen. Hard rain during the night had drowned my plan to mow the backyard. Instead, I cycled to the bank to get a hundred-dollar bill for each of my kids back in America. I'd tell them--as always--not to spend it all in one place. . . .
The Black DressLoukia Janavaras (c) Copyright 2025 by Loukia Janavaras  |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
One
of my favorite photos from childhood is of my mom and me in Corinth,
Greece in the summer of 1971, the summer I turned two. She went back
to Ancient Corinth, her hometown to see her dying mother
my yiaya (grandma)
Vasiliki who was in her late 70s and took me along so I could meet
her for the first and last time. All the years I had seen this square
photo with its crisp white border tightly sealed inside an acrylic
photo cube, I never knew the secret it held. . . .
Guides In GardensLoukia Janavaras (c) Copyright 2025 by Loukia Janavaras |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
After dropping off my husband Andrew at his work headquarters, I decided to drive the rental car to Central Park and check out the Japanese Garden. This was our first trip to San Mateo, California so I wanted to explore and had the luxury to do so on my husband's work trip. I felt grateful for such an experience. . . .
Winter Days Of
Old
James L. Cowles (c)
Copyright 2025 by James L. Cowles |
|
A special time, one of a kind, a long, long time ago
A real tree, lights, tinsel bright, outside, the fluffy snow
Days of youth, the truest truth, with the world aglow
A real tree, lights, tinsel bright, outside, the fluffy snow
Days of youth, the truest truth, with the world aglow
Dear Mr. BluLoukia Janavaras (c) Copyright 2025 by Loukia Janavaras |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
How
is it possible that you've been gone seven months? Seven months
today, in fact. And every month on the anniversary I tell myself I am
going to write you a letter. But the muse has not been with me of
late. Well, that plus the little voice of reason in my head that
says, you aren't really going to write a letter to him, are
you? Come on, really?. . .
What's Happening?Bonnie Crandall (c) Copyright 2025 by Bonnie Crandall |
 Image by rony michaud from Pixabay |
What's happening? . . . Something weird. But what? . . . What do I do? . . . WHAT IS HAPPENING!
I had just returned home from leading a workshop and my PowerPoint overload was giving me a serious headache. So, I grabbed a bottle of over-the-counter pain meds and popped two into my mouth. A few minutes passed and I could feel the medication taking hold. But it wasn't what I expected! My eyes felt as like they were trying to push out of my head. My tongue was suddenly too big for my mouth. My throat was swelling, and breathing was becoming very stressful. I knew I was in trouble, but couldn't understand why! . . .
| We
Are Family Karen Radford Treanor
(c) Copyright 2025 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
 Photo of the house on Elm Street courtesy of the author. |
"Family"
is a fluid concept these days. Perhaps it always was, outside the
confines of the conservative media.
An
acquaintance recently became the father of an adorable and
much-wanted baby girl. The event should be an occasion of
congratulations and best wishes, and so it is, except for a sizeable
majority who don't think he deserved the chance to be a parent,
due to what they term his 'lifestyle' and 'ungodly
behaviour'. . . .
| ". . .And Sat Down Beside Her. . ." Karen Radford Treanor
(c) Copyright 2025 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
 Photo of spider and soup spoon courtesy of the author. |
Things you don't want to see while driving at 100 kilometres per hour down a major highway in Tasmania: a humongous Huntsman spider running around the dashboard of your car.
I had several adventures with these spiders when I was living in Western Australia, but had not expected to find them in Tasmania's cooler climes. I try not to kill them, because they are useful beasts that eat bugs, and if you whack them they leave blobs of spider nougat all over the place. They really are big; an adult female would cover a salad plate from toe to toe. They are interesting creatures--in the right place. . . .
The Best Kept Secret of theKruger National ParkSarah Nash (c) Copyright 2024 by Sarah Nash  |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I've been going to the Kruger Park for as long as I can remember (my mom still has some of my sightings lists in my round, baby handwriting and superbly creative spelling) but it's only recently that I've discovered its best kept secret.
There are 11 bird hides in Kruger, but two of them are different. . . .
Road MomsThomas Turman (c) Copyright 2025 by Thomas Turman |
 Photo by Ramiro Pianarosa at Unsplash. |
We
left Southern California in 1949 to live in my parent's home
state of Colorado. Denver was nothing like the flashy Los Angeles I
was used to, so I was always looking for something to do. Nothing
worse than a bored spoiled kid.
Instead of working in the glorious and romantic aircraft industry, my dad now traveled the mid-west selling automotive testing equipment. During the summer between my seventh and eighth grades, I would get in our '39 Chevy with my dad and make the rounds of car dealers and auto garages in an endless trail of small but sturdy towns. . . .
Instead of working in the glorious and romantic aircraft industry, my dad now traveled the mid-west selling automotive testing equipment. During the summer between my seventh and eighth grades, I would get in our '39 Chevy with my dad and make the rounds of car dealers and auto garages in an endless trail of small but sturdy towns. . . .
My Three Dads: A Father's Day TributeAbbie Creed (c) Copyright 2025 by Abbie Creed |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I wrote
this as a Father's Day tribute for my
six adult children, five boys and one girl. Each of the men in this
story had already passed when I wrote it. I wanted them to know the
father's that they had become and were becoming were influenced by
the father's that came before them. And the gift goes on! . . .
A Likely StoryThomas Turman (c) Copyright 2025 by Thomas Turman |
 Photo by Ramin Talebi at Unsplash. |
Among
the many being disgorged from the Boston Municipal Bank was Dolan
Amory Stills. He lives with the parents who lumbered him with his
stilted name. Dolan is a middle manager in the bank and proud of his
success there. He has almost everything he wants, but not the one
thing he really needs. A girlfriend. . . .
My Global Birthday WishAbbie Creed (c) Copyright 2023 by Abbie Creed |
 Photo by Alexa at Pixabay. |
This story expresses how I learned and taught about the cultures, traditions, music and religions of people from around the world. Through experiencing an unplanned event I made new friendships and came to realize that through modern technology, the world in which we live is truly a small world! . . .
More...
|
Honeymoon In Paradise Henry Lansing Woodward (c) Copyright 2025 by Henry Lansing Woodward |
 Photo by Nico Smit on Unsplash |
After
about three bounces, the boy bounced out the window and
in
an instant, he was gone ten floors down.
It was another fabulous day in Paradise. One of those days that happens almost every day. This weather draws millions of visitors a year to our cluster of islands located over two thousand miles from any other land mass and is boringly wonderful, day after day after day. . . .
It was another fabulous day in Paradise. One of those days that happens almost every day. This weather draws millions of visitors a year to our cluster of islands located over two thousand miles from any other land mass and is boringly wonderful, day after day after day. . . .
| Pennies For Forgiveness Ezra Azra (c) Copyright 2025 by Ezra Azra |
 Photo by Sergio Arteaga at Pexels. |
Fire
walking barefoot is a ritual that was practiced in Ancient times in
Greece, Rome, The Middle East, India, and Africa. The ritual is
referred to, sometimes, as The Flower Ritual because the glowing hot
coals resemble orange-colored flowers.
A fire ritual is mentioned as a practice in the Bible: "Thou shalt not let any of thy seed pass through the fire to Molech."
Nowadays,
it is practiced by many cultures in many countries. The purpose
always has been atonement for sins against gods. . . .
Pennies From KJElizabeth Lopilato (c) Copyright 2025 by Elizabeth Lopilato |
 Photo courtesy of Pixabay. |
Most of us have dealt with the
expected loss of a parent, grandparent or anyone who has lived a full
life and is ready to go. It's a heartfelt loss and grieving
is a normal part of the circle of life. The loss of a child, no matter
what their age, is devastating to the parents. Parents are supposed
to go before their children in the normal pattern of life and
death. It's especially devastating when the loss is sudden
and tragic. . . .
| Amaxophobia Patricia M. Snell (c) Copyright 2025 by Patricia M. Snell |
 Photo of the author |
My
husband and I live in a rural area. It's at least a 30 minute
drive to get to places for shopping and other business. This is not a
good situation for someone with a fear of riding in a vehicle.
I suffer from amaxophobia. I fear riding in a vehicle. Amaxophobia prevents me from visiting my daughter in Baltimore, 374 miles away from where I live in New York. It prevents me from going to see my grandchildren, 368 miles away in Connecticut. My fear has gotten to the point that I can't even tolerate a 2 hour drive to Syracuse to see my son and daughter-in-law. My husband and I both suspect my fear is rooted in a fear of losing control. . . .
I suffer from amaxophobia. I fear riding in a vehicle. Amaxophobia prevents me from visiting my daughter in Baltimore, 374 miles away from where I live in New York. It prevents me from going to see my grandchildren, 368 miles away in Connecticut. My fear has gotten to the point that I can't even tolerate a 2 hour drive to Syracuse to see my son and daughter-in-law. My husband and I both suspect my fear is rooted in a fear of losing control. . . .
I'll Never Forget Her SmileFredrick Hudgin (c) Copyright 2025 by Fredrick Hudgin |
 Photo Reiner at Pexels. |
I was in a hurry. My wife wanted flour tortillas instead of the corn tortillas that the recipe called for in the Cowgirl Casserole I planned to make for dinner. The line at the checkout had three people in front of me. Slowly, those people collected their groceries, paid the tab, and walked their carts out to the parking lot.
The elderly woman in front of me had trouble with the credit card reader. It kept declining her card. I glanced at the total on the display--seventy dollars and change. . . .
More...| Home
For Christmas Karen Radford Treanor
(c) Copyright 2025 by Karen Radford Treanor
|
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
"We
just need to find the cow monument," I said as we drove through
the centre of the small New Hampshire town for the third time. "I'll
know where we are from there--although it's been over 20
years since the last time I was here."
"If
here is in fact where we are and not somewhere
else,"
grumbled my sister, who was driving. "Are you sure this is the
right town?"
Fifth Person in the RoomGeorge R. Frost (c) Copyright 2025 by George R. Frost |
 Photo by Michael Gil at Wikimedia Commons. |
The
pain in my chest started at one in the morning. It was so intense; it
woke me up from a deep sleep. Amy, my wife 9-1-1 dialed. In
minutes, I could hear sirens in the distance.
I felt like I was drifting away on a cloud between this world and the next. Everything got blurry.
"They're here." Amy told me as the doorbell rang. . . .
I felt like I was drifting away on a cloud between this world and the next. Everything got blurry.
"They're here." Amy told me as the doorbell rang. . . .
The Forgotten GlassesGene Treanor (c) Copyright 2025 by Gene Treanor |
 Photo from Wikimedia Commons. |
My apprenticeship in cabinet making had included a fair few hours of learning the finishing side of the trade. Using and learning about stains, grain filler, linseed oil, shellac, and spraying lacquer were all part of my work week.
After working in a small country workshop for several years, I landed a position in a larger shop in Cambridge, not as a cabinetmaker as I had hoped, but as a finisher of the work of the other, more experienced, men in the shop. . . .
|
Short Pants
(c) Copyright 2025 by James L. Cowles |
|
I
remember a time when life was much more of an adventure, and I was
much like a cat, very curious about so many things. It was a time
when the world was indeed, brand new to me, when in fact I, myself,
was also fairly new to the world. I am betting I am not alone in
this; that others remember that time in their life. In fact,maybe we
all were much the same. . . .
Ham and EggsFredrick Hudgin (c) Copyright 2025 by Fredrick Hudgin |
 Photo by by jeffreyw at Wikimedia Commons. |
When
I deployed to Vietnam in 1970, I had two MOSs (Military Occupational
Skill). One was as a fuel and electrical repairman. The other was a
truck driver. So, I was given a choice of which one would be used to
place me into a unit. I wanted to see the country and what the fuss
was all about, so I chose to be a truck driver.
Under WeighDoug Sherr (c) Copyright 2025 by Doug Sherr 2021 Winners Circle Contest Winner |
 Photo by Markos Mant on Unsplash |
The
Hawk swirled snow and debris down the alley knocking
over a
garbage can as I shoved the mattress into my station wagon. The Hawk
is Chicago's brutal winter wind that carries enough humidity to
cut though the best winter clothes causing your bones to ache. I
threw in my bags carrying clothes, foul weather gear, zero temp-rated
sleeping bag and the plastic box holding my sextant. . . .
Tutus and Toe ShoesValerie Forde-Galvin (c) Copyright 2025 by Valerie Forde-Galvin |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I'm
not a dancer but I do know a bit more about ballet than most, having
worn the tutu at the tender age of four. My performing career as a
toddler was brief and unmemorable: recitals where I pranced blithely
upon a stage applauded by adoring relatives. . . .
| Lucky
Jakkal Ezra Azra (c) Copyright 2025 by Ezra Azra
|
 Photo by Dfpindia at Wikimedia Commons. |
Normally,
there were many, many sounds of wild animals at night on our family
farm in Africa. I was born on that farm, and lived there my first
twenty-nine years.
| I'll
Be Seeing You Sara Etgen-Baker (c) Copyright 2025 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
 Photo of Winnie and Ed Etgen courtesy of the author |
My
mother grew up during the Depression in Liberal, Kansas. When the
Liberal Army Airfield was constructed during World War II she, like
so many American women of the era, felt compelled to serve her
country. So, she quit her teaching job and worked as a civil servant
at the Airfield where she met and later married my father. . . .
| The
Kaleidiscope Effect Sara Etgen-Baker (c) Copyright 2025 by Sara Etgen-Baker |
  Photos courtesy of the author.. |
. . . I stood at the altar
next to my husband-to-be and said, "I do," not fully
comprehending that I was also saying "I do" to two
ex-wives and three stepchildren, the youngest of which was 5 years
old. Although I was 31, I knew little about being a wife and even
less about being a stepmother. But I loved Bill and willingly
accepted the circumstances, confident I'd figure it out along
the way. . . .
|
Monadnock Giles Ryan (c) Copyright 2025 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo from the top of Mt. Monadnock courtesy of the author. |
Here
in New England, about forty of us, old friends, have come together
again to mark the fifty years since we all first gathered for Peace
Corps language training, a shared experience followed by another, our
time in Korea as school teachers, after which we were never the same. . . .
|
The
Armenian Church in Dhaka -1979 Giles Ryan (c) Copyright 2025 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
It
was a spring day in Dhaka, the monsoon still some weeks away. Ashraf
and I were having tea one day in my office, the usual strong brew –
the best leaf from Sylhet – to which he had added three spoons
of sugar for the taste that Bangladeshis considered the right,
true cha. My own cup made do with one
spoonful because,
after all, might not three spoons be – in the words of the
catechism – an occasion of sin?
But I put this thought aside and asked, "Do you know where I might get an old book rebound?" Ashraf had spent all his life in Dhaka, knew all its neighborhoods and was the best source for information. . . .
But I put this thought aside and asked, "Do you know where I might get an old book rebound?" Ashraf had spent all his life in Dhaka, knew all its neighborhoods and was the best source for information. . . .
|
The Loneliness of the Long Distance Rucker K. S. Anthony (c) Copyright 2025 by K. S. Anthony |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
The
first three miles always suck. It's not that they're painful; it's
that they're uncomfortable. There's no amount of strap or waist belt
adjusting that helps. It's just a question of getting used to your
ruck digging into your shoulders and moving the weight –
your new weight
– and the rest of you forward, upward, outward... away from
conventional comfort and towards the quiet embrace of
discomfort. . . .
|
Although
Then A Stranger
K. S. Anthony © Copyright 2025 by K. S. Anthony |
 Photo by José Martín Ramírez Carrasco at Unsplash. |
"What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from." – T.S. Eliot
"I want the beginning of you and the ending of you to myself.". . .
|
Continuity
K. S. Anthony © Copyright 2025 by K. S. Anthony |
 |
J
left for two months, returned for a week, then left again. She was as
good at leaving me as she was at loving me, though after the first
few times, it no longer hurt the way it had the first. I missed her,
but I learned that missing her came with the territory and, as such,
I came to accept it. J's leaving was -- and
is -- simply part of how she loved me. . . .
|
Emily
Robert Flournoy © Copyright 2023 by Robert Flournoy |
 Photo by musicFactory lehmannsound at Pexels.
|
My
old truck started sputtering for no reason other than its' age, so I
pulled over to let it catch a breath. Out of boredom, and looking for
things past, I seek out dirt roads in my spare time, which is pretty
much all the time. Something now compelled me to walk back along the
hot dusty road for a hundred steps, picking some black berries out of
the drainage ditch along the way, their twisting tunnels of thorns
entwining with the rotten fence posts that had been there for
generations. When there came a break in the fence, the faint remnants
of an old wagon rutted road emerged for just a glance, its'
impression immediately lost in the decades of greenery that had over
run it. . . .
|
Seattle
1973 Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan
|
 Photo by Thom Milkovic on Unsplash |
Although I seldom returned to the States in those days, a combination of events – a break from work and an anxious heart – found me in the Seattle airport in the late summer of 1973, passing through on my way east. Walking around the terminal between flights, taking in my first sight of America after a long spell away, filling my mind with impressions, thinking of anything but the reason that brought me back, I saw an old Korean woman standing in the middle of it all, perhaps lost and clearly distracted by the crowds hurrying past. . . .
|
Tsuji-san Giles Ryan © Copyright 2024 by Giles Ryan
|
 Waiting at the Yasukuni Shrine. Photo courtesy of the author. |
Tsujiuchi
Shigeru was a friend and colleague. For many years beginning in 1984,
we worked together, mostly in Japan but also on occasion in Korea,
Taiwan and Hong Kong. In the Tokyo office his colleagues always
called him Tsuji-san, which is the kind of affectionate
name-shortening that is common among men in Japan, and he was
well-liked by all who knew him. His daily commute from the far
western suburbs of the city with a change of trains in Shinjuku
Station would have been a trial to a much younger person, but he
avoided the worst of it by coming in very early before the terrible
rush-hour crush. He opened the office each morning and when the rest
of us arrived we found the coffee already made. . . .
| The
Day We Children Decided There Be No More Bull Ezra Azra © Copyright 2025 by Ezra Azra |
 Photo by muhammed-zafer-yahsi-SASgyQxbOJs-on unsplash |
In the 1950s farmer Grampa Albert in Zululand bought a Bull to be with his cows.
That Bull terrorized us children when we walked miles everyday across parts of five farms, on our way to school. All of us walked barefoot. All five farms were in our family. When we complained to family adults we were told to not take the shortcuts across the farms. . . .
|
"I Am So Sorry, I Didn't Mean Any Harm"
©
Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles |
|
I
did some pretty crazy things in my youth, but I would guess I'm not
alone in that. When you are young, you mistakenly believe you will
never get caught, no matter how outrageous the prank you pull happens
to be.
One
that I personally remember vividly, involved a saber sword and a
large piece of construction equipment. I can't recall why I had that
saber with me that night, but I do remember it being used to puncture
a very large tire on a tractor that was being used in highway
construction in Louisville, Ky. . . .
| Eurydice
and Orpheus Ezra Azra © Copyright 2024 by Ezra Azra |
 Painting by Edward Poynter (1836–1919) at Wikimedia Commons. |
Orpheus
fell in love with Eurydice, and she with him. They decided to get
married. They were in their twenties.
Eurydice
was an orphan. Nobody knew anything about her parents or other
family, or where she had come from.
Orpheus
first saw Eurydice at a concert. She was among the cheering fans of
his singing, and playing the Kithara and the Lyre.
Orpheus's Mother, Princess Calliope, was not happy her son wanted to marry someone who had no traceable family heritage. After all, Calliope could trace her own ancestry countless generations back all the way to Zeus, almighty god democratically elected by the countless other almighty gods to be king of gods, forever. . . .
Orpheus's Mother, Princess Calliope, was not happy her son wanted to marry someone who had no traceable family heritage. After all, Calliope could trace her own ancestry countless generations back all the way to Zeus, almighty god democratically elected by the countless other almighty gods to be king of gods, forever. . . .
A Complement of ComplimentsJudith Nakken © Copyright 2024 by Judith Nakken |
 Photo by mart production at Pexels. |
You know how you feel when you receive an unexpected, sincere and from-the-heart compliment? And how the memory of it trickles down from your brain to create a warm place in your stomach any time you recall it? I received the first compliment of my life when I was eleven, and it was one of those. . . .
|
Regrets, I've had a few (2012) ~with apologies to Frank Sinatra Leigh M. O'Brien © Copyright 2024 by Leigh M. O'Brien |
 Image by Aline Ponce from Pixabay |
For
this reason and that, I didn't get pregnant with my daughter,
my only child, until I was 38, and she was born shortly after I
turned 39. As a late-in-life (and more-than-a-little anxious)
mother-to-be, I did all the "right" things during my
pregnancy: I stopped ingesting alcohol and caffeine two months before
I even started trying to get pregnant and took all the recommended
vitamins; I ate right, exercised moderately, and gained the
prescribed amount of weight. I had excellent medical care, my husband
and I dutifully attended weekly childbirth classes, and I had a "picture-perfect" pregnancy according to my ob-gyn. . . .
|
Extended Family
©
Copyright 2024 by James L. Cowles |
|
My
wife and I recently arrived home after an afternoon, and evening,
family Thanksgiving dinner, and it got me thinking about something I
call, "extended family." Actually, the host and hostess
from our dinner are not all direct family, but they seem like it.
They are the sister and her husband of our sister-in-law, the wife of
Teresa's brother. We have been invited, first because they like us
(and we, them), but more importantly, they know we would otherwise be
eating our dinner alone. . . .
|
The Comfort of Cats Leigh M. O'Brien © Copyright 2024 by Leigh M. O'Brien |
 Photo courtesy of the author. |
I've had many cats throughout my life and each one brought something special into our shared worlds. In many instances, they made my life better – or if not always better, do-able. . . .
When You Wish Upon A StarSherri J. Bale © Copyright 2024 by Sherri J. Bale |
 Image by Pfüderi from Pixabay |
Starlight,
star bright
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight.
I whispered to my pre-teen self, as I gazed out my bedroom window beyond the street lights.
I recited that poem religiously. My wish was always the same. . . .
First star I see tonight
I wish I may, I wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight.
I whispered to my pre-teen self, as I gazed out my bedroom window beyond the street lights.
I recited that poem religiously. My wish was always the same. . . .
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One
Day In London Town Ruth Truman Image by wal_172619 from Pixabay© Copyright 2024 by Ruth Truman |
"All set? Everything packed?" My husband Lee was always worried about being on time.
Later, innocently, we picked up our travel bags and stepped onto the inter-airport bus. Two great weeks in London had come to an end…a tear ran down my cheek. So quickly the time had gone. . . .