My husband isn’t here to take care of me. I’m taking care of me now. I’m widowed and I’m treating myself to a bathroom for one. Read more.
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My Front Yard — It’s a Happening Place
My front yard — it’s a happening place. Life forms are shooting up all over it, greedily taking up their allotted space in the universe. Read more.
I’m Thanking People a Lot These Days. Why Is That?
I notice that I’ve been thanking people a lot lately. People — not God, not the Universe, not “the force that through the green fuse drives the flower.” Read more.
Scan Those Family Photos — Today!
I have a closet big enough to store 38 shoe boxes packed with photos and negatives. My kids do not. It’s time to scan those family photos. Read more.
Help! I Can’t Remember the Names of My Flowers
I love my new flower garden. But, for the life of me, I can’t remember the tongue-twister names of my flowers: Aquilegia? Armeria? Scabiosa? Read more.
There’s a Pollinator in My Pollinator Garden
The columbine, the statice and the armeria had been planted only a week earlier, but already there was a pollinator in my pollinator garden. Read more.
Widowed: A Love Letter From Jon Arrived This Week
I’m widowed and a love letter from Jon, my husband, arrived this week — in the form of the house we bought and built together. Read more.