"'But if it’s to be a flower name, then I don’t trouble about the length: it must be a beautiful flower, because, you see, I think she is very beautiful, and is going to be beautifuller still.’ Frodo thought for a moment. ‘Well, Sam, what about Elanor, the sun-star, you remember the little golden flower … Continue reading A Little Light
I watch motherhood from the outside, surrounded by my books and garden and time to spend on them. I read Frog and Toad to the kids, but I don’t feed them, teach them, band-aid them, nurse them, shush them, spank them, birth them. I refuse to wash peanut butter off their faces, and even though … Continue reading The Moms I Know
I noticed the halls didn’t smell like green beans and urine like most other nursing homes I'd known. People smiled here. (Except for the secretary who yelled at us through the glass that the code was 1080, and that we’d have to let the cook know we wanted to share lunch with Ms. Louise, because … Continue reading Ms. Louise
The swingset oak is forty years old, taller than our maple, cedars, even its pin oak siblings. Mr. and Mrs. Adams planted it when our neighborhood was still a field and Mom was still a kid who ran through it. Early last fall, the tree started browning— far too early. By November, it was naked … Continue reading A Good Sign
“Well, do you think spring has sprung?” he asks, and I look up to see things from his view. His yard is a patchwork of green and yellow, the trees at the crest of Edgewood are leafless, two brand new tulips stand awkward and alone off his front porch. “I—I think it has. I hope … Continue reading Is Springing
It’s that time of year when I go hunting for spring, checking every corner for it the way Frog and Toad did in their Adventures. We have a patch of early bulb shoots, but our yard stands blank compared to Papa Larry’s. I worked in his front gardens yesterday afternoon, straightening up soil fencing with … Continue reading Destined to Rise
Service ended last Sunday and the balcony filled, hummed, then emptied as people found their classrooms. We’ve moved our ladies’ Sunday school class to the gym to leave gaps between tables— social distance. It makes things awkward, because our voices ring off the walls and ceiling and basketball backboards. But it’s good, because Mrs. Barb … Continue reading Lightdrops
I’ve called this place Bethany J’s Journal since it’s beginning, but I’ll admit it isn’t my journal— not my real, blue hardback with the exotic fish on the front and squatty cursive inside. Here, I draft, tweak, redraft, edit, polish, and find pretty pictures to match each article. My real journal is messier, and while … Continue reading Introducing “Sunday Sketches”
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