Sunday, July 20, 2014


     We went to the beach last week. It was a lovely blue day with big clouds and easy breezes. We ate fried chicken and cherries from the Piggly Wiggly then walked along the shingle shore.

     I stopped to pile stones on a driftwood log, and then put some in my pockets to carry home.

Short Stack

Sunnyside Up



    Pebbles are a sociable class of clast, so I put the extras together in a shallow stone bowl where they wouldn't be lonely.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Dancing in the Moonlight

     We went for a walk at dusk yesterday. It was a cool, quiet evening with a gibbous moon teasing shadows out of the twilight and fireflies winking across the lawns like fairies. As we walked, night strolled past trailing darkness in its wake. We spoke in hushed voices. Then, on the far side of the neighborhood, I noticed a thick piece of chalk some child had forgotten on the sidewalk. I picked it up and wrote:

Gossamer fairy was here dancing in the moonlight

     I wish I could have been hiding in the shrubbery this morning to see the expression on the chalk-child's face.

Monday, July 7, 2014


     Fribbles, the youngest of my grandchildren, was frightened by the fireworks on the Fourth of July, so I held her on my lap. She covered her eyes and peeked from between her fingers. Later, as her mother was tucking her into bed that night, she said, smiling, that the fireworks were scary and spicy but it was safe and hugs on Grandma's lap.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Not a Self-Portrait

     This is me, Grandma Nib of Nib's End. Girlybird made this portrait of me when she was a preschooler. A rather striking resemblance too. When I asked her why my left arm is so crooked, she said it is because I am getting ready to hit the mouse. Can you see the mouse? That black speck in the lower right-hand corner may look like an insect to you, but it is almost as big as my shoe. I am winding up like Popeye after he has eaten a can of spinach, and, despite the look of terror on my face, I am going to despatch that threatening rodent straightaway. Thwack!

     There are those scattered moments throughout your life when you are given the opportunity to see yourself through another's eyes. Sometimes those moments are flattering, sometimes they are not. I realize there is a measure of idealism in young children, but in their simplicity they are often the curators of the obvious. Perhaps my granddaughter sees me as more courageous than I see myself. It is nice to feel like someone's hero now and then.