Saturday, July 27, 2019

Chenille Bedspread

 Why had she kept the old chenille bedspread when she bought so many other things new?  

She hesitates.  To throw it in the laundry might just be the end. Just let it happen, let it become torn and done with.  But her hand brushes down the tufted rows, like the rows of grain; like the corduroy that she used to make overalls for her toddlers; like wet combed hair showing the teeth of the comb.  The bedspread has been with her a long time, the care she had given made it last.

To remember or forget, that is the chenille question.    






Saturday, July 20, 2019

Kindle Confession

A woman’s recently purchased Kindle books disappear. Fix this, she tells herself. Don’t bring this to her husband’s attention, she adds. She keeps mum. She tries to Google the answer, she tries to restore the books. Days go by, and still her library is short $70 worth of books.
Then success. She’s a genius, is the report she gives her friend. But don’t mention it to her techno-phobic volatile husband.
The weight of this plan is considered.  It means stuffing another secret into the container of shame.
No more. She confesses what happened including why she kept quiet about it.


Saturday, July 13, 2019


I bet the sun shining has something to do with my mood but what else? I like to figure the recipe out, when I feel good, in case it can be duplicated. However, I’m afraid moods are like my soups, which evolve as recipients of leftovers added, ends of two soups mixed together and there is no real recipe.

Speaking of soups, I have the duck carcass in the soup pot. It will be ready by lunch, with leftovers for tomorrow guaranteed. Perhaps the soup is the secret. I’m becalmed by onions, tomatoes, celery.  Perhaps this is today’s recipe for happiness.

Saturday, July 6, 2019

Where is the Goose?

Our coffee time involved a historic review. How many years have we rented out the farm? Some memory work and dates are established. Why do you want to know this? I ask. It’s a simple question but I have to rephrase and guess at answers before my husband stops rambling around and answers my question.

He’s wondering about rental agreements and whether a three-year review is imminent. I find accurate dates in our records but inform him also that it’s our land - our choice. We don’t need dates to decide.
Thank you, I say, for initiating this wild goose chase