ostensible planter of daffodil bulbs Last weekend I went in search of some historical documents, any I could find, for a young cousin doing some research on our family genealogy. I didn't turn up much that will be helpful insofar as the particular thing she was looking for. But I did come across an envelope … Continue reading Sunday Serendipity: I Show My Hand
Publishing over on LinkedIn today about what classical ballet has to teach about ritual and ceremony, and what those notions can add to a full-time remote work paradigm.
Harper Lee and Truman Capote; New York Public Library Digital Collection Early this morning I finally opened the pages of my beautiful 1993 edition of To Kill A Mockingbird, the one Chef David so lovingly sought and then finally found in hardcover and gifted to me this past Christmas. It has been stacked atop the … Continue reading The Coming-of-Age Story of Stories: Oh, Harper
Her figure still had substance, however slight. Standing fully erect, she measured four feet nine and a half inches, head to toe. Seated, she melted into a chair or sofa as an understuffed toss pillow might, owing to the pronounced curvature that had come in her neck and upper spine; her shoulders had also collapsed … Continue reading Afternoon Miniature 4.18.21
Yesterday I put on my professional writing cap and posted this piece over on LinkedIn. It's chock-full of advice for any SEO copywriter seeking work right now; please have a read if this describes you.
Cecily returned home after a long day in the service of others, thoroughly spent and ready for it to end, but the faintest streak of pinkish-azure light lingered on the western horizon still, almost mockingly; she could not appreciate the beauty of the moment in her tired-out condition. Later on, she would slide down into … Continue reading Evening Miniature 2.7.21
How peculiar the small things one remembers from an important or somber occasion, years or decades later. Cecily had long reflected on this curiosity in the intervening years between her father Cecil’s funeral and now, at age twenty-three. She had been thirteen at the time, mindful enough of the goings-on around her, impelled forward by … Continue reading Evening Miniature 1.3.21
From The Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax, by Dorothy Gillman, 1966 I can still see the dog-eared paperback clear as day on the guest bedroom nightstand in my childhood home in Memphis: a mystery novel by Dorothy Gillman titled The Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax, my great-grandmother Gracie’s reading selection on that visit. On the book jacket a woman … Continue reading A Family Memory: Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax and Surprise Connections
The darkness would have compelled any visitor to stand quietly for a moment and adjust to it before finally getting his bearings, after crossing the threshold of this cottage, if it were only just: More precisely, this was but a room of four rough-hewn paneled walls, unfinished, with a shed-style roof fashioned of standing-seam metal, … Continue reading Evening Miniature 11.22.20
Lucy tugged at her skirt, which had ridden up over her bent knees in a funny way, and now its satiny lining had shifted, allowing the wool fibers to rub her skin uncomfortably. Her head swam with obtuse and acute angles, theorems and axioms. She glanced down at her open notebook and saw where her … Continue reading Afternoon Miniature 11.8.20