Yesterday someone asked me, “Mary, what would you do if you weren’t afraid?” What would I do? I was reminded of a conversation that I had with my Grandma Farnum the year before she died. That was about 18 years ago. I was worried about a lot of things in my life back then. Not … Who’s afraid?
I just spent three weeks away: away from the phone, the television, my cell-phone. I spent it away from easy internet access. I just spent three weeks with: with my husband, with friends, with art-galleries and historical sites, with great food and beautiful scenery. I spent them enjoying a cup of coffee in a quite … Does anybody know what time it really is?
Science has never really been my thing. I got through 9th grade basic science, did better in 10th grade biology, and managed to pass 11th grade chemistry. Thankfully, I didn’t have to take physics to graduate. For college I headed off to a tiny but wonderful liberal arts college in western Podunk PA where I … Mom was right
Three days ago my husband and I drove to our favorite Christmas Tree Farm to search out the “perfect” tree for this year. As we drove I was reminded of years past with a backseat full of excited children singing along to the Bruce Cockburn Christmas cd we’d play. The saw, the ropes, the old … It’s beginning to look a bit like Christmas…
It’s not often one finds brightly colored finger-nail polish bottles awaiting one at a funeral. Or the special request to paint one nail, just one, in honor of the deceased. But this was not just any funeral. It was a celebration. A party as a last request of the delightful woman for whom we’d gathered … A single painted finger-nail
Okay, I admit it. I have become a Le Tour de France junkie. Cadel, Andy, Frank….people who do not know that I exist and yet I know by first name. I have watched them for weeks now as they race their hearts out for the honor of a colored jersey. White = best young rider … Yellow, Green, White or Polka Dot?
The diary is old and worn. Much like its writer now. In its early days, it was much like its writer then: young, vibrant, fresh, many white pages ahead to be filled in with “life!” The diary lay two-thirds of the way through the box, covered with papers, crumbled bits of flower petals saved from … All things old …
The voice on the other end of the line said, “would you be in Follies this year?” I felt the word slip between my lips before I could even think about it much…”yes.” Two moments after that the doubts and fears started to creep out of the crevices where they’ve been safely hiding for the … Upon Returning to the Stage