The pictures on our bedroom wall each contain at least one memory—a captured spirit or ghost, if you will.

The pictures on our bedroom wall each contain at least one memory—a captured spirit or ghost, if you will.
I can still recall the vision, Bob’s dream of 25 years ago. It was golden hour, and we were loping side by side across a field of grass so tall that the bottom of our stirrups brushed against the seed heads. A gentle New Zealand breeze kissed the prairie, sculpting a sea of undulating waves. […]
You might not notice to look at me that I’ve got a lot going on. Or then again, you might. You might catch me losing my balance. Or I may seem less compassionate, somewhat detached, distracted, and a little less patient. And for good reason. My Mom and Dad are at a cross roads in […]
Dear Santa I’d like a pony this year, and world peace for Bob, please. Again, I know. It seems silly to ask for the same things every year, but old habits are hard to break. Both Bob and I were very well behaved this year. We didn’t fight much, we kept the house clean, and […]
Widowmaker [wid·ow-mak·er] noun – A dead branch caught precariously high in a tree which may fall on a person below. Oxford Dictionary Jesse, a.k.a. Lena’s Sweet Rum, was my golden boy until he became Bob’s golden boy and later Julie’s. Never mind that he was a bay. Bob and I had him for ten years […]