I love all the pictures of my Mom in South America in the 1970s with what appear to be very chic caftans and muumuus. At least, that's how I'm going to glamorize them. I'll find some pictures to share. I have a couple of super cool (as in, not toasty) dresses that can go with or without straps, and they are my summer staples. I call them my house dresses, and only partly tongue in cheek. I loving something effortless to survive warm weather and chores around the house and garden that is at ... View Post
Grandmother’s Birdhouse
Around here, it has to be almost Wordless Wednesday, because I can't really live without words. I'm using these posts to share a few of the small but meaningful things around our home - the tattered remnants and found objects that make me smile. There is a massive tree in the front yard of my grandmother's old home in Texarkana, Arkansas. She cobbled together this birdhouse that hung on that tree for as long as I can remember. A few years ago, my Dad divided the entire item into three parts, ... View Post
1956 Handprints
Around here, it has to be almost Wordless Wednesday, because I can't really live without words. I'm using these posts to share a few of the small but meaningful things around our home - the tattered remnants and found objects that make me smile. This image is from the carport that was added decades ago to our 1905 home. I love thinking that the two kids who made those handprints are probably in their 60s. ... View Post
Idyll Summer
There is something about this painting, Summer Idyll c. 1889 by Charles Conder, that I love. It may speak to the idea of summer as it should be in my mind, or the hazy colors may simply shout at me. Regardless, I know that I approach most summers as a parent with equal parts enthusiasm and concern I'll waste any precious moment of their limited, carefree summer days. However, thanks to an absolutely fantastic post by one of my favorite authors and writing muses, Kyran Pittman, I'm pleased ... View Post
These. Are. The days.
I used to walk (ok, hustle) to school in Wenatchee, Washington. First, down Orchard Street to Orchard Middle School after we first moved to the U.S. (and after the kids recovered from their shock that I was the new girl from Jamaica and yet my skin didn't match their mental pictures). Then, from Utah Court over to Wenatchee High... but most memorably down the crazy driveway and back up the neighbor's horse access road to catch the bus in Sunnyslope. Like this*: It being the early 90s, I ... View Post
Thelma in a Red Frame
There is a tiny photo in my office in a weathered red wooden frame. It probably seems either unimportant to most, or self-indulgent. To me, it's one of the most evocative pieces of my past. Look at it, if you like, but let me try to more effectively capture it, if you are interested: Most centrally and most eye-catching, a slender black woman with pristine skin is holding a small white infant. That's Thelma, and that's me. The couch is yellow and scratchy-looking. A brown ... View Post
