Window Over The Sink

by Margie Senechal I have come to the conclusion that baking is my love language--which is why I was late getting this post to Liz in time to get it posted. Okay, back to me and baking. Just for the record, I'm not a happy cook and consider it my nemesis that I have to conquer a few times a week in order to feed my family.  But, baking--   As the daughter of a professional cook and baker, you'd think I would've garnered many a tip. And you'd be wrong. My dad was an instinctua

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy "One of our family traditions is to collect special ornaments as keepsakes. One of my first ornaments was also my first doll, gifted to me by my grandmother. The star dates back to my dad's childhood in the 1940's." He wore a blue mailman’s uniform, not the classic red suit and fur-trimmed hat but my Uncle Roy filled the shoes of Santa Claus as well as anyone I’ve ever known. In 1972, he made one little girl’s Christmas both bright and memorable w

by Donna Cronk I’m not talking about a holiday table where everyone talks at once, anticipating the turkey and dressing. The family members filling my dining room table of late came from afar: from not only the previous century but the one before that.  They were around when horses and buggies were the only local public transportation. They butchered their own meat, raised their own chickens, and the ladies wore long-sleeved floor-length dresses daily as they canned food and

Look for the helpers. - Fred Rogers It's November, so I'm all about gratitude and holidays and food (don't those go together great?) So on Wednesday, someone on Facebook asked if any of her friends were involved with "the cheese ball sorority." That would be Psi Iota Xi sorority. I didn't know much, although I'd bought a few cheese balls and eaten parts of several more. By yesterday I had learned that they make a lot of cheese balls. A lot. I don't have exact numbers. I don't

"October air is sweet and cold and clear; it cleans the mind and lifts the spirit." - Faith Baldwn I'm looking for that, what Faith Baldwin promises in that quote. I like my mind as it is, because it's open and welcoming and confident in what it learns, but my spirit is suffering. It flinches a lot these days. I'm grateful this week, for the late-night drone of combines and the people who drive them. I like the wide-openness of the fields being empty, of being able to look bo

I apologize for my almost-absence last week. Like everyone else I know, I was battered and bruised by the grief of what has happened...

Our wedding anniversary was Thursday. "How many?" said my sister-in-law in disbelief when I answered the annual question. Fifty-four...

by Pamela S. Thibodeaux This was the question I asked myself when I considered the hours of time and creative energy I’d put into nearly...

In my novel Her Best Man , Sarah and Will find themselves sharing a cabin on a cruise ship. The forced closeness hastens their romance,...