Houston and New York and Budapest
I can’t say what took hold of us that Saturday. We made a strange decision.Read More »
For years, I did not think hairdos very important. My mother was always after me: “A little brushing would help,” she’d say.Read More »
“But who are you married to?” the older woman asked again.
“The German across the road,” I said for the third time.
She shook her head and frowned.
“He’s my husband,” I insisted.
She stared at me. “But . . .”
She just couldn’t believe that I, a white woman, was married to a German.*Read More »
“Are you ready to search for the blue heron?” I asked my daughter.
Thekla narrowed her eyes and looked warily out the open garage door.Read More »
Do you like to hear stories?
That’s what my blog is about.