Raised as a tomboy, I never intended to write romances. I never even read ‘em. Stocked by my cultured mother and paternal grandmother, the resort library contained no such pulp. My best friend and her family devoured precarious stacks of Harlequins® at her farm, but I despised the melodramatic cover art, writing and plot. Why…
Category: Relationships and community
Harvest of Memories
Crimson jewels my husband picked sit in white ice cream buckets on our kitchen table, facing me, challenging me. He pats me on the back, whispering sweet matrimonial-style nothings: “Honey, how about making fresh cranberry jelly?” I smile grimly and search for a recipe. I haven’t canned cranberries for years, not since my granny was…
The Secret of the Blueberry Patch
My genteel Southern grandma usually protected herself from our northern summer sun with a large-brimmed straw hat, tied under her chin with a big, colorful bow. When the wild berries ripened, she switched to a no-nonsense seed cap. Leading the march to the ditches or neighbors’ old cow pasture, she’d make us pick for hours….
The Good, the Bad and the Pink
Humanity can make you lose heart these days, which is why I treasure a 3” x 2.5” swatch of pink fabric given to me by a man I’ve never seen. When my decades-old sewing machine broke down, replacing it was low priority because I really only used it for mending or making mittens. The reason…
In Praise of Neighbors
“Are the kids still up?” my husband asked as our minivan turned down the driveway. I strained to see through the trees. “Everything looks black.” Our teenagers usually lit up the house, played loud music, watched movies and gorged on junk food during our rare absences. “Someone’s been here.” He pointed to tire tracks in…
Constance Colson-Clay 