Posts Tagged ‘writers life’

Legacies of Love

Sometimes the years shift forward abruptly, like an earthquake: so much changes in the space of a second. This last Friday I was caught up short as I sat down at my desk and opened my computer.  Nestled in my inbox was an email from the son of my best friend, Myrna, who died from…

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The Bounty Of Family

What a joyous holiday our family had this Thanksgiving just past–four full days of wonder. Here is my little grandson, who sat at Nana’s holiday table for the first time, built trucks and trains and Duplo houses with me, went hand-in-hand to the playground, and drifted off to his parents singing my childhood lullaby. And now onward, into…

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Waterfalls of the Sun

I haven’t been a devotee of poetry for over forty-five years now. My mother’s death did me in as a reader and writer of this often-enigmatic genre, making it impossible for me to enjoy the short mysterious lines studded with similes and its exacting attention to language. Poetry became too painful; too much of a…

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A Chink In The Armor

Hope seemed out of the question. As we returned home from Long Island, where we had celebrated my grandson’s first birthday, we were mired in non-stop traffic when my cell phone rang. The call was from the dog sitter. While vying for a tennis ball thrown up high, Mac and Cody had collided mid-air, and…

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Coast To Coast

Last week, I went back to California for the first time since we moved to Maryland in September. The Bay Area south of San Francisco remains unchanged: still beautiful with its sunlight and winter green hills; still frustrating with its traffic and congestion; still costly to live and wine and dine in. Nevertheless, as the…

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Building A Nest In Maryland

For the first time in a long time, children dressed in costumes and shrieking “Trick or Treat” will clamor at the stoop of my house on October 31st. In California, we lived at the end of a long and dark street where no child ever ventured; over the course of the past sixteen years, I…

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The Siege Of The Wine Country

Here in Maryland, in the backyard of my new home, the leaves are just beginning to fire up with color. Back in California, in the yard of the home I’ve left behind and haven’t sold yet, a thick layer of smoke obscures the view of the mountains from my living room windows. In the mornings,…

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Eastward Ho!

Last week, I received many responses to my last newsletter essay, the one about losing the ones we love. Many people agreed that we all need to pay more attention to the way we try and help those we care about as they grieve.  This week, I find myself dealing with a strong sort of…

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Give The Boy A Dog This Summer

When I was a child, my parents held out to me the example of an excellent and dedicated writer, my great-grandfather, Arthur Gray Staples. My mother, a Pulitzer-Prize winning poet herself, told me many stories of his life in Maine, in the early 1900’s, as the editor-in-chief of the Lewiston Evening Journal, which was considered…

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