I am in here.
My mother was a beautiful woman. Everyone says so — both now and at the time. Hell, I said so, both now and at the time. We could all agree on that. And that was comforting, in a time of open warfare between us. But I have looked at many photo albums that are in … Continue reading Beauty
The warblers convinced me to go out and simply be outside, even though I knew that by the time I got there, the birds would be having their midday nap. I heard a fairly busy red-bellied woodpecker, but that was it. And one turtle, a red-eared slider, sunning itself on the shore of the pond. … Continue reading No birds.
I take pictures at lunch. Because I got me a new camera, that’s why. And if you click on it, it gets bigger.
I sit in my mother’s den at her phone, typing. The people from Christie’s are here, as are the lawyer and the financial adviser, wonderful people all. They go about their business of processing my mother into the appropriate lines on the different papers that are necessary, all of which will be translated from English … Continue reading Books. Papers.
white pebble 