Roamin’ Holiday: No Place Like Home

The third and final part of my series on a recent trip to Rome, why it’s important to travel, and how we can appreciate our homes when we return. I did my best to express my gratitude for the patience shown to us when we had no idea what we were reading on labels in […]

Sprung

I have to admit, this is the first time I’ve put serious effort into starting plants indoors. Previously my initiative was haphazard. Along the lines of “Oh well if they don’t make it, we can just sow seeds or buy plants later.” It has occurred to me that this is not only really inefficient, it can actually be expensive if you don’t pay attention to what you’re doing. 

Roamin’ Holiday: Breaking the Bubble

In my previous piece I mentioned the difference between cruising several countries in a week, and actually walking past the docks into the city you’re supposed to be visiting. I’ve never been on a cruise, so I suppose you have to consider my opinion as biased. But the reality is, there is a stark difference between […]

Winter House: Chapter 4

The next chapter of my serial novel takes a turn, discovering unforeseen origins, for better or for worse.   August 13th, 1812 As assigned by General Harrison, I have taken command of Fort Harrison along the Wabash River. My accomplishments at Tippecanoe have warranted my promotion. I shall see to it that I serve well. […]

Who Will Speak for the Threes?!

A woman that worked there, knew I was going to be sitting there for some time. As she left for lunch, she kindly offered to bring me back some coffee or a snack. Too overwhelmed, I politely declined and thanked her. A couple of hours later she offered again, on her way out to pick up her kids from school. I sheepishly thanked her, and declined her kind offer. Unwilling to relent, she approached me a short while later to give me a Coke and a Planter’s protein pack with assorted snacks. It was all I could do not to burst into tears.

Winter House: Chapter 3

Bobby walked down to peek over Jerry’s shoulder. Trina’s room was drowning in pink. The curtains on the windows were pink with polkadots. The sheets on her bed were pink with flowers. There was even a rug that was pink and white swirling in circles. Bobby shuddered, thankful he didn’t have an eight year old sister. Trina was sitting on her bed, brushing the hair of a baby doll. She looked pale.