I Can’t Not
I come from a family of writers. Preachers who write sermons. Pranksters who crack jokes. Poets who compose verse. Pickers who compose lyrics. Patriarchs…
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I come from a family of writers. Preachers who write sermons. Pranksters who crack jokes. Poets who compose verse. Pickers who compose lyrics. Patriarchs…
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Granny Garrard was a very important part of my life until her death on April 12, 1982. After that, the memories of her have…
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An insignificant spec, repeatedly unnoticed, In a world where nature is usually considered beauty. Illustrating perseverance and craftsmanship, Floating without wings, Intertwining glistening strands…
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“Grandpa…I want to play with you.” This sound drifted up to me from the smiling face of my granddaughter, her deep brown eyes shining…
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In the shady yard behind our modest brick home, three blond boys follow their father down furrows of rich soil. They toddle like golden…
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I come from a foot peddle beneath a whirring sewing machine and the first beneath Dad’s automotive fingernails the slopes of Ski Windham and…
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I have been a writer since first or second grade – since the day my teacher showed us the basket of books she made…
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For me, the writing life consists of invitation, community, and outlet. We will explore each of these facets this month, beginning with “invitation.” As…
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I would be a person who “used to write” if it weren’t for resources like those I’ve discussed in previous posts. And, as I…
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Today was a very busy day at my job. It wasn’t stressful; it was just eventful, and while I took my normal lunch time…
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