Plastered On The Refrigerator Door… — I’ve been thinking about refrigerators lately, maybe because it’s hot outside, and they’re sort of “cool.” As a writer, I believe you can tell a lot about a person by what they post on the outside of their refrigerator. I’m serious. …

I love when life slows down enough to match the flow of my fingers on the keyboard, when I can ease into a memory, turn it gently over in my mind, and lance that sucker as if a boil. No one died. That’s all I can say about our 1,400-mile…

And while the white rabbit is scampering about yelling, “Oh my fur and whiskers! I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!” I am late with my blog. I am late in responding to your comments. I am late in reading your posts. Forgive me. It appears things might get worse before…

Retirement. — It is disorienting. This much I will admit. Jesus tried using this same technique with his followers, continually provoking disorientation, in order to widen their narrow views on life. And can we all agree it was a fatal mission? Which makes me think God might be back to Her old…

Wait Until You Meet The Cousins — “Compared to everything else going on in the house, my cousin drinking chocolate milk in the shower almost seemed ordinary.” Cassie Beasley There is no one crazier than the cousins on your mother’s side. Right? That might be why it took us decades to organize a simple reunion with my…

“ I live two blocks from where I grew up” Flamingo Drive was actually a spacious culdesac formed by a semi-circle of unique houses, built in the fifties, landscaped with birds of paradise, red bottle-brush bushes, and roses. Giant magnolia, pine, and palm trees shaded the yards. As if fringe…

Opening my suitcase on the tranquil tile floor of the bathroom, the dust of my recent journey floats in the frigid morning air. I breathe in every gritty detail, rifling through the stories that are bound to be inflated over time, tales that will no doubt, inform our lives for…

In a few weeks, I’m going to celebrate my 60th birthday for the third time. I think it’s worth repeating because sixty is considered the far edge of middle age, anything over and above leaves you teetering on the brink of elderdom, and that province can be ruthless. My eyesight…

Photo Credit: Kat Wilson from Pexels I’m feeling the weight of my humanness. You know what I mean? Maybe it’s because we recently celebrated the crucifixion of an innocent man, or all the suffering splashed across our television screens, or the simple fact that wearing masks has morphed into a…