Grandmother’s Kitchen Sometimes I’m paralyzed by the idea that I can recall so few specifics about my grandmother. She was a cook undaunted by crowds lining up outside our church—serving three hundred or more in a night with her massive … Continue reading
Walking into the backyard this weekend, I was intrigued to see my thirteen-year-old kneeling under the grapefruit tree, digging. “What are you doing?” I asked. “I’m planting a time capsule,” she said. I smiled at the word “planting.” It seemed … Continue reading
“…[a]lluding to the snows of that season, the Germans say that “St Martin comes riding on a white horse.”[1] Mid-November marks one of my favorite adopted holidays. Why adopted? My husband is German. And while we Americans share many holidays … Continue reading
Then: Traveling East on Upper Mountain Road: Hope United Methodist Church. The stones used to build this church–known for many years as Pekin United Methodist Church–were cut from the Niagara escarpment, which runs through my family farm. Knowing this only … Continue reading
What is it about air travel that strips you of something of yourself? That allows you to open up with a passing stranger that otherwise wouldn’t happen? What is it? On a recent flight, I sat next to another woman … Continue reading
My eyes locked on the hot white streak in the sky in front of me. Saturday morning. Up before the birds, I was walking to the south. I couldn’t believe it: the streak grew into a fireball rimmed with brilliant … Continue reading
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